Yohji Yamamoto

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According to his interview in WWD today, Yohji Yamamoto craves schism. That might explain why his catwalk was crowded with ragtag revolutionaries who looked liked the cast of Les Miz on a shoestring budget. The resolute drabness of the clothes felt like an up-yours to the 1 percent. So did the overt militarism of the khakis, even though they'll probably sell for a price that only 1 percent of the 1 percent would consider justifiable. (The khaki nod to the Dior Bar jacket might pass muster.)

Longtime Yohji signatures such as asymmetry and androgyny were intact, but they were more tattered and worn than usual. The sense of life after wartime was compounded by veiled women in black, like widows. But they were quickly followed by a model in a lurid pink sheer skirt wrapped over bright blue panties, which suggested a different mood. Same with the "jewelry," which looked like either repurposed Christmas decorations or bits of driftwood.

In the search for interesting pieces that honored Yohji's design legacy, you might settle on a pair of trousers with a shirred, multi-tied waist, or a white biker jacket with elegant tails, or maybe even the ratted tweeds threaded with Lurex. Otherwise, the burst of Iggy Pop on the soundtrack was a reminder that, just the other day, Yohji's daughter Limi Feu was 'fessing up to her horror that Dad had never heard of the king Stooge. At least he now knows Iggy, so Yohji is catching up in some respects. In others? Not so much.

All Seasons

Yohji Yamamoto

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