Right Hyères, Right Now

The last time I was at Hyères was exactly a decade ago.  Back then on the blog 1.0 I enthused and gushed about this annual celebration of grassroots fashion and creativity, nestled in the Robert Mallet-Stevens designed Villa Noailles.  It was the novelty of seeing seeds of young graduates in fashion and photography flourish quietly away from fashion’s epicentres in an environment so convivial (the sun! the palm trees! The copious amounts of rose!) that seduced me and yet somehow it’s taken me this long to return.

Hyères International Festival of Fashion and Photography in its 33rd edition in 2018 has of course grown whilst retaining much of its charm.  The people “headlining” the festival as it were, are still an impressive mix of fashion OG’s and luminaries with this year’s fashion jury presided once again by Haider Ackermann, and flanked by likeminded cohorts such as Tilda Swinton, Jefferson Hack, Delfina Delettrez and Ben Gorham of Byredo.  The sponsors though have become more numerous and illustrious and with that, comes bigger crowds and more people from the highest echelons of the industry convening down in Hyères.  Chanel is the grand partenaire but created its presence at the Villa Noailles, with the help of its Métiers d’Arts – this time a public participatory workshop courtesy of Lemarie, where you can try your hand at constructing a feather bee or flower.  Other partnerships such as an award given by Chloé, as well as sums of money from Première Vision, Petit Bateau, Swarovski and more means the cash prizes at stake makes this competition not just prestigious because of the calibre of the jury, but also a much-needed financial boost for any young designer or photographer at the start of their career.

Photographed by Daragh Soden (winner of last year’s Hyères Festival Grand Prix Photography prize) from his “Toulon” series

The cutting table of Maison Lemarié’s workshop at Villa Noailles for the Hyères 33rd Festival of Fashion and Photography

What thankfully hasn’t changed is that South of France relaxedness and the feeling that you’re happing onto fashion moments  rather than being hell bent on seeking it out.  Where you waft from one part of the villa to the other, catching Haider Ackermann’s curated “Vanishing Act” in the piscine and then saunter off to a wall of photographs of local lads in Toulon beautifully captured by last year’s Hyères Grand Photography Prize Daragh Soden.

But the broader takeaway from this year’s edition of the festival is the shift from ten years ago when awe-inspiring techniques and silhouettes were king, to today’s generation of young designers, eager to use fashion as a platform to say something more with their designs and articulate ideas around identity.

These were the designers that ultimately were the winners in the end.  Because sure, we can admire say the beauty of dried pressed flowers trapped in silicone created by German designer Regina Weber or the highly technical and precise woven nylons and coppers of Spanish designer Jef Montes but the question this year seemed to be, how can the youth of fashion go beyond their realm and say something bigger and more impactful about society at large.

Haider Ackermann’s exhibition ” A Vanishing Act” installed in the covered swimming pool of the Villa Noailles.  An assembly of his own work, Rick Owens, Madame Grès, Undercover and more.  

Sarah Bruylant (Belgium) who won the Public Prize of this year’s Hyères Festival with her collection “Meet me in another world”

Regina Weber (Germany) ‘s collection “Fleur Invader” which utilised real dried pressed flowers captured in silicone


And so to the grand prize winner, who people will already be familiar with as a finalist of this year’s LVMH Prize.  Rushemy Botter with the help of his partner Lisi Herrebrugh’s presented his MA collection “Fish or Fight” at Royal Academy of Antwerp in 2017 but has since launched their collective brand Botter with this powerful starting point.  It’s a love letter to Carribbean style but also articulates something deeper about the uprooting of one’s culture as an immigrant.  Botter’s roots in Curacao and Herrebrugh’s in the Dominican Republic (her mother is from there), and their travels to these islands meant they were able to observe a mingling of styles from these former Dutch colonies.  The resulting collection is a cultural to-and-fro conversation that both celebrates and probes.

“Whether I am at home or traveling, I can often pick out of the crowd who’s from Curaçao or the Dominican Republic. They just dress differently.  I specifically wanted to focus on the cultural clash they experience. A lot of young people come to Europe for what they think and hope will be a better life, but adapting or fitting in is very difficult and oftentimes they end up in trouble.  Clothing and appearance become sort of an armour to look like you’re better-off than you actually are,” said Botter in an interview with Another Something.  

The stacking of caps and layering of jackets represents an indecisive Sunday Best attire worn all at once, accented by table cloth lurid florals and a tangle of fisherman’s nets, inflateables and knitted plastic bags.  Those accoutrements  comment on the harm of plastics on the shores of his home island with a more pertinent remark on corporates like Shell (with the “S” omitted) on the eco-system of the coral reefs and the impact they have on the fishing livelihoods of the islands.  Recycled materials turn up in the form of Nike’s own plastic bottle-recycled Vapor Max shoes stacked on to leather shoes, as fresh kicks melding with old school elegance.

But beyond the war on plastics, Botter really represents a strand of conversation in fashion that I’m particularly interested in – what happens when culture is displaced, transported and returns to its roots?  The work of Botter and Herrebrugh is the product of migration, from their island lives on Curaçao and the Dominican Republic to Amsterdam and then subsequently to Antwerp, where their label is based.  There’s no explicit criticism in Botter and Herrebrugh’s collection but rather an open-ended question of what happens when people want to use dress to communicate their heritage in lands far from their homes.  More impressively, the actual clothes stand up to scrutiny,  Botter will getto present a collection at next year’s festival made in partnership with one of Chanel’s Metiers d’Art, as last year’s winner Vanessa Schindler did, and will also be going on to present this collection at the final of the LVMH Prize later in May.  No doubt, we’ll be hearing more of Botter in the future.

Vanessa Schindler’s collection made with the employment of Maison Lesage embroidery and jewels from Maison Goosens


Ester Manas was my other definite pick to win the Grand Prize but instead, like fellow La Cambre graduate Marine Serre in last year’s edition of the festival (and we all know what SHE has gone on to do…),she won the Galeries Lafayette award to design a capsule collection that will be sold next year.  I hesitate to use the word “ size” and so does Manas but evidently, her collection “Big Again” presented on a carefully casted group of atypical models of all sizes will be framed within that problematic terminology.  In fact, Manas wants to design for the breadth of FR34 all the way to 50.  And she can do so with her contrasting layers of tailoring, shirting and tulle flou that exposes the body, amplifies the bust/hips and deliberately exaggerates the waist and thighs.  There’s nothing more self-explanatory and powerful than the statement on Manas’ website.

“My collection is a testimony. It’s the result of a discussion I had with 12 girls. I was touched because everybody should have the right to dream and see oneself in a look that defines them. A piece of clothing can change a person’s behaviour. When you buy clothes, you want to give a message about yourself, to be part of a group but also to feel good. Every type of body should be allowed to expect this feeling from clothes.  All the fabrics are related with the skin and body, showing elasticity, brilliance, cracks and flaws. Sometimes the outfit is skin only, sometimes the skin expands, creates new volumes in interaction with the rigidity of what’s left of the armor. For me, this collection is for everybody.  Women’s skin and body exist more than ever.”

In this portfolio of images, Manas’ group of women tower over you, in an imposing combo of flesh and fabric.  Within the folds of a woman’s elastic skin, jewels shine.  What are perceived and deemed by society to be flaws are made beautiful in the hands of Manas and overall her designs open up a whole can of worms of questioning where larger sizes in fashion are concerned – why are there still oversized tents and tunics that persist as the limited options, why is the default strategy to cover, obscure and flatter so that slimness is the primary objective?  Here, flesh in all shapes and forms is as much a part of the collection as the clothes are and I cannot wait to see what Manas does to take her work further.

In another thesis of beauty ideal probing, Eva O’Leary won the Grand Prix in the Photography category, selected by a jury presided by Bettina Rheims.   Her series “Spitting Image” of 15 year old girls reacting to their reflections in a two-way mirror is a compelling one.


One of the overriding themes, particularly in the Accessories prize category, which was only introduced last year at the Hyères Festival, sponsored by Swarovski, was that of course of sustainability and in particular, upcycled and recycled materials.  This made its way into the fashion competition as Marie-Ève Lecavalier utilised sur leather from factories to create interlocking vests and dresses as well as trims on upcycled Levi’s denim that had been unstitched and repurposed.  Other finalists such as bag designer Ludovic Leger, who is currently working for a house, is trying to combat the waste of his field by physically gathering up leather offcuts from his jobs to create a line of bags.

Marie-Ève Lecavalier’s collection “Come Get Trippy With Us”.  Her design was the winner of the Chloé prize made out of interlocking leather that comes from sur scraps. 

Marina Chedel, winner of last year’s inaugural Swarovski Accessories prize presents her latest collection “A Raised Line That Moves Across the Surface”

Inès Bressand’s collection of bags made by artisan weavers from Ghana

Ludovic Leger’s bags made out of off-cuts and materials accumulated from his time working at houses such as Dior and Burberry 

But perhaps the project that captured the zeitgeist of a competition that sees designers more conscious and inclusive than ever was that of Flora Fixy and Julia Dessirer, and their collaborative collection of hearing aid jewellery for their friend photographer Kate Fichard, who is hard of hearing.  Fixy and Dessirer are product designers and thus their approach towards jewellery is less about flights of fancy but more about real needs.  The hearing aid normally disguised in “skin” colours (that are inevitably not actually close to any real skin colour) becomes a sculptural object in itself, accentuated by gold accents and resin pieces.  “The aid is emphasied, extended, thickened, exaggerated.  It shines, and becomes remarkable.”  For Fichard, this collection fulfils a personal desire to make her impairment beautiful and visible.  It was an outstanding project that again, opens up conversations beyond the jewellery itself.

Diversity and inclusivity can feel like throwaway buzzwords when fashion is busy trying to tick every box and cater to a “woke” public but when they come at you in a genuine and heartfelt way, you think about the real impact on the industry that could take place further down the line when this generation becomes, “agents of change” (my own buzzphrase that has stuck with me since Hannah Jones’ wonderful talk at the V&A last week as part of their Fashioned from Nature exhibition).  At Hyères, this year, we saw those young agents of change, making themselves heard, loud and clear.

Familiar Odyssey

I’ve emerged from the newborn hell and fash-un is calling.  In between the thankfully reduced night feeds, I’ve been dreaming that I was having imaginary conversation about Edward Enninful’s new era at British Vogue or how insane/funny the queues are going to be for Supreme’s collaboration with Louis Vuitton.  Not a lie.  I did indeed wake up one morning thinking I had had a chummy frow-worthy chortle, and was then brought back down to earth by the rhythmic beat of Ewan the sheep and the milky scent of leaking boobs.

And so I’ve decided to throw myself into the deep end of the cruise show diving pool.  I’m doing all of ‘em.  As in all the biggie houses that take you around the world, serving up experiences as well as clothes so that whatever far flung location seeps into your brain.  The freezer is full of blocks of my boob juice.  The other half has been schooled on the art of Milton cold water sterilisation.  Timer alerts have been set for FaceTime sessions with Nico and five minute bouts of breast pumping.

To start the cruise journey off, there was an easy one-day jaunt to Paris on Wednesday for Chanel’s cruise 2018 show.  Chanel may have been one of the first houses to pioneer the extravagant travelling cruise show but such is their might, that the move to bring it all back to home turf in Paris, following their Metiers D’arts show at the Ritz, was a compelling  one.  Especially as we entered the Grand Palais under the angsty pre-election vibes of a drizzly Paris and found ourselves bathed in the warming hues of terracotta stuccoed walls and the ombre light of a sun setting over the Aegean.  The scent of real olive trees planted in amongst the meticulously crafted Doric column ruins was authentic enough, as was the wafts of burning charcoal roasting sticks of gyros at the after show cocktail (was I the only one who found it really great that we ate meat on a stick at a Chanel party?).  We didn’t physically go to Greece but in ambiance and mood it came to us.

And it doesn’t take a plane journey to make sense of the clothes in a collection Karl Lagerfeld called “The Antiquity of Modernity.”   This was perhaps one of Chanel’s most straightforward, easy-to-decipher collections of late.  You couldn’t possibly apply the phrase ‘It’s all Greek to me’ in this instance.  Because the collection was the opposite of unintelligible, which isn’t to say that the clothes are simple.  “Reality is of no interest to me. I use what I like. My Greece is an idea.”  That was the bold assertion from Lagerfeld in the press notes and indeed it’s not quite the reality of the country today, marred by economic woes.  Instead, it’s the mythical Greece of not just Lagerfeld’s imagining but a collective one.  This Grecian jaunt ran the gamut from Madame Grés-esque pleated and draped gowns, to amped up Halston vibes in caped printed chiffon dresses and then to modern day chiton mini robes for those Insta-friendly holidays in Santorini and Mykonos.  Gabrielle Chanel provided the starting point with her costumes for Jean Cocteau’s 1922 staging of Antigone and her marble Venus statue that still sits in her Rue Cambon apartment.  From there, it was every tried-and-tested Grecian-inspired dress trope for Lagerfeld’s taking.  Chanel’s tweeds were roughed up and frayed for rugged coastal climates.  Knife-cut pleats were moulded into amphora-shaped dresses, tightened in with embellished corsets.  The King Midas touch of gold was scattered all over a recurring laurel leaf print motif, an owl of Athena on a double CC purse and the gentle jingle of hammered coin embroidery.  For the lover of a memorable kitsch Chanel shoe, gladiator sandals come with ionic column heels.

The familiarity of it all works in the context of a cruise collection.  Type in beachwear into MatchesFashion.com and ye shall find the holiday friendly fashion category, burgeoning and bursting as a sector in its own right.  The monied and jetsetting community of the world who can afford to look to Chanel for their poolside and yacht-sunning needs will find that these toga-lite silhouettes and sun-friendly shades of terracotta, midnight blue and white fit that functional bill.  And for something more fanciful that mirrored Michel Gaubert’s 21st century Greek soundtrack consisting of Aphrodite’s Child and Iannis Xenakis?  How about those black ankle Daria-esque boots with criss-cross straps?  Or a transparent swiss dot-decorated kimono in thin plastic.  Or a crackled marble waist cinching corset rendered in sequins.  In the end it was proof again that Kaiser Karl could apply just about place Chanel codes amidst any era, civilisation or universe.

Disobedient Bodies

The first bit of physical fashion I’ve seen since emerging from my postpartum haze wasn’t even on a human being.  In fact, I’m not sure I’d even categorise it as fashion.  Jonathan Anderson has taken me to some unexpected non-obvious venues.  Places where art and design live and breathe and when his clothes are presented in those contexts, they feel believable.  One time, it was the The Millinery Works, a wonderful arts and craft furniture dealer in London, for a Loewe dinner celebrating a collaboration with the textile artist John Allen.  Another time, it was up to Cambridge for a J.W. Anderson resort presentation at Kettle’s Yard, where former Tate curator Jim Ede’s 20th century collection was a backdrop for the zany mix of metallic knee-high boots and polka dotty frills.  With a very very kind offer to take Nico in tow with us, Steve and I journeyed up to Wakefield last weekend to the opening of Disobedient Bodies, an exhibition curated by Anderson at the Hepworth Gallery, the first of its kind as the gallery invites creatives from outside of the art world to come and present their perspective on the gallery’s modern British art collection.

Anderson’s starting point was that problematic quandary of “Is fashion art?”, a question that he admits was something that irked him.  Then two years ago, invited by the Hepworth to come and curate its collection, and embarking on a collaborative process of selecting pieces to converse with one another, Anderson became a convert to the idea of fashion sitting alongside art, sculpture and design on an equal and almost indistinguishable footing.  The result is Disobedient Bodies, gathering together over a hundred pieces by artists, sculptors, choreographers, furniture designers, fashion creators and even ceramicists, who have all looked at the body in a rebellious manner.  In most instances, the body is absent, altered or abstracted in some way and together it’s an extraordinary assembly of aesthetics.

Henry Moore’s wooden sculpture, the “Reclining Figure” from 1936 marks the beginning of this fluid and unconventional exhibition, where a Madame Grès pleated dress is draped haphazardly on an Eileen Gray Transat chair.  Or where a Christian Dior haute couture dress from A/W 1952 with architectured jutting out and undulating hips stands like a totem next to Jean Arp’s S’élevant (Rising Up) sculpture or indeed, Barbara Hepworth’s white marble Totem, both conceived in 1962.  One of the central anchor pieces of the exhibition sees a Jean Paul Gaultier jersey dress pulled tautly over a specially made mannequin body where the conical breasts are exaggerated to mimic Moore’s curvaceous figure.

“Can Helmut Lang be seen as powerful as Louise Bourgeois or a Giacometti?” was another hypothetical question that Anderson posed and so Lang’s iconic harnesses and holsters hang behind the spindly Standing Woman by Alberto Giacometti.  Aesthetic similarities are drawn in a deliberate bold fashion as the flat steel planes of Naum Gabo’s Head No. 2 are paired with the felt brilliance of Rei Kawakubo’s “2D” A/W 12 Comme des Garćons collection.  The padded out fabric tubes of Kawakubo’s “Monster” collection is seen on parity with Sarah Lucas’ “Bunny” works made out of stuffed flesh-coloured tights.

Anderson doesn’t shy away from calling out his heroes and references in his own work.  Kawakubo is one of course as is Issey Miyake, whose pleated garments hang next to the lamps of Isamu Noguchi.  Other fashion design purists such as Yohji Yamamoto and Rick Owens also feature in the exhibition.  Anderson’s own work isn’t necessarily the main focal point, but is present where it feels necessary and significant.  For instance, a grouping of clear plastic Loewe garments stand next to the only bit of natural light in the exhibition, with Wakefield’s old factory buildings looming in the background.

Housing all of these conversations are curtain-esque partitions made out of sur fabric from Anderson’s studio, devised by 6a architects in London.  It’s an intentional nod at domesticity as are the tables for displaying some of the pieces.  You almost trip over the gingham ‘lumps and bumps’ of the infamous Comme des Garcons S/S 97 ‘Body Meets Dress, Dress Meets Body’ collection as they lay on the floor like casually placed boulders.  The tangibility is something that Anderson wanted to convey even if it isn’t quite possible to maul our hands over the art works on display.  Hence why the central room of the exhibition has been filled with an installation of twenty eight floor-to-ceiling elongated jumpers, drawing from Anderson’s love of knitwear.  Here you can twist and interact with yarn, forming your own tactile ties.  Much like the local kids of three schools in Wakefield, who were photographed wearing the exhibition’s fashion pieces by Anderson’s longtime collaborator Jamie Hawkesworth.

That acknowledgement of the Hepworth’s out-of-London location was one of the primary reasons why Anderson was drawn to the project.  “London is an island,” said Anderson at the dinner feting the exhibition on Friday night, “We don’t end up sharing or seeing outside of our bubbles.”  That’s of course a valid sentiment cited as one of the primary driving forces behind people voting for Brexit.  By placing Disobedient Bodies at the Hepworth, Anderson is keen on empathising with this sentiment, by wanting to share creativity across the whole country, and not just within the M25.  It’s an attitude that makes sense coming from the Northern Irish Anderson, who once told me he never really identified himself as a “London” designer.

It seems appropriate that for my first work outing, after my own personal life-change, that the fashion that I did see was placed in a context that makes you really think about its true value.  Can fashion matter or make a difference?  Is it worthy of a similar stature of say, the work of Louise Bourgeois or of course, Barbara Hepworth?  Can it comment on our times and the significant world beyond the hyper-glam and privileged surfaces that whirs past us during fashion month?  Why yes is the answer which is why when the time comes I’ll gingerly attempt to enthuse Nico about it all.  Even if she doth protests.

Loewe Land

“Welcome to Loewe Land”  I *think* Jonathan Anderson was saying this in jest, as he waved his hands over the “Past, Present, Future” exhibition that is currently open to the public at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Madrid.  But over a compact two day trip to the city where the Spanish leather goods house is rooted to, it really did feel like an excursion to a Loewe Land of sorts.  One that crazily, has really only been in existence for two years since Anderson became creative director.  The word ‘past’ in the title of the exhibition lingers in the background, and yes, we saw traces of Loewe’s 170 year history embedded here and there – but there can be no doubt that what you took away was the here, the now and the yet-to-come from Anderson’s creative direction.

Case in point, there was a stark difference between when I last visited Loewe’s factory in Getafe, on the outskirts of Madrid back in 2012 when Stuart Vevers was still heading up the house to the factory visit I undertook this time round.  Everything looked different.  The physical layout and decor.  That M/M Paris reconfigured logo embroidered on all the craftspeople’s uniforms.  A snazzy canteen that looks more than fit to feed what looked to be an increased workforce.  Above all, the processes looked completely different.  More machinery in rooms where alas, I wasn’t allowed to enter due to my advanced pregnancy.  Peering in through the window, I could hear the hum drum of vast laser cutting machines programmed to cut all those wonderful skins.

The leathers had broadened out.  The super soft Spanish entrefino lambskins, sturdier calfskins and marble-rubbed suedes were all still there and obviously take centre stage in the key bags that Anderson has since introduced into the Loewe bag fold – the Puzzle, the Hammock and the Barcelona to add to the existing Flamenco and Amazona styles.  On a crazier rail in the leather research room though are bonded leathers, pleated finishes and bold patterns as well as swatches of hand-painted leathers.  It’s a balance between the traditional and the experimental that the Loewe craftsmen have taken onboard and you see an excited glint in their eyes when they recall creating objects such as the leather-clad giant cat necklaces of the AW16 collection or being tasked to take the material of a trainer recontextualise it into bags.  And yet, at the same time, Anderson still has the appreciation of leather that is “like a lady with very little make-up on”.

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Perhaps the biggest change I saw was in the production line of the factory.  You can always tell demand for a brand’s bag is up when there are target sheets pinned onto the line.  Production of the hit Puzzle bag was in full force and I finally got to see the beginning-to-end of the assembly of what is a complicated bit of leather pattern cutting, where forty pieces of leather come together.  Around ten craftsmen work in tandem with one another to bring the components of structured last, the canvas lining, handle and of course the distinctly cut and sewn Puzzle configuration in leather together.  It’s perhaps a more efficient process to what I saw last time I was at the factory when they were making the old style Flamenco bags.  This paced up production is required of course to meet the customer demand that Anderson’s transformation of Loewe now engenders.  And yet, despite the sped up hands and lean manufacturing processes, the quality control that goes into a Loewe bag isn’t lost.  That’s evident in the final product itself as well as the numerous checks put in place to ensure stitch, seam and component meets the exacting standards of the house.

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The main purpose of my being in Madrid though was the opening of Casa Loewe, officially now the largest Loewe store in the world and the first in Spain that reflects the new direction of the house.  In bricks and mortar form, Anderson’s indelible mark can be seen everywhere.  Again, I’m comparing and contrasting against the last time I was in Madrid with Loewe.  Back then I visited the historic but small Gran Via store.  The newly revamped Casa Loewe is a different beast altogether, occupying an entire corner of Calle Goya and Serrano in the Salamanca district.  When we were there, that famous Madrid golden light in the late afternoon was hitting the impressive facade.  And inside that light flooded into the double height space of over a thousand square meters that accommodate specially chosen pieces of artwork such as Sir Howard Hodgkin’s giant aquatint entitled ‘As Time Goes By (Orange)’ that stretches across the ground floor wall.  Keeping Casa Loewe specific to Madrid is a wall installation of handmade ceramic tiles by Spanish-Americna artist Glora Garcia Lorca.  Their earthiness complements the Valencian clay floors and Camparspero stone of the central staircase as well as the organic craft-led textures of Anderson’s most recent ready to wear collections for the house.  Cleverly, amidst rough-hewn tweeds, shades of calico and veg-tan leather though is product.  Plenty of it.  Anderson has never shied away from the P word and so elephant bags, abstract brooches, interiors-led blankets and now a his ‘n’ her house perfume are now recognisable signifiers of Anderson’s Loewe, in addition to the stable of bag styles.  They take pride of place in Casa Loewe.

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To the side on 4 Calle Goya is an unexpected addition to the store that will draw in most non-fashion folk with a florist that ties in with Anderson’s latest collaborative imagery with Steven Meisel, inspired by British educator and florist Constance Spry.  Her books on flower arranging are floristry classics and so her ethos flourishes both in this Loewe florist and in the set of stunning colour photographs, that look almost like painterly Dutch still lifes.  This “Flowers” series is also on display at the Royal Botanical Gardens.  The spontaneity of the arrangements and their exuberant palette is an irresistible combination.  They simultaneously have everything and nothing to do with what Loewe are outputting.  That’s Anderson again asserting his unpredictable respect for the past, which just so happens to feel right for the present.

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In the other part of the ‘Past, Present, Future’ exhibition you can see the taxonomy of Loewe laid out before you in the form of collaged walls and floors as well as a clear perspex display of objects from Loewe’s archives, current product as well as antiques that configure into this architected brand map of the house, conjured up by Anderson.  In other words, Loewe Land.  One that feels like it has been around forever but scarily, has only been in fruition for just over two years.  Which leaves the question of where Loewe and Anderson can go in the future.  You couldn’t but wonder about where else this exacting vision, curation and precision of aesthetics could be applied to.

Casa Loewe now open at Calle Serrano 34 in Madrid. Loewe ‘Past, Present, Future’ exhibition on at the Villanueva Pavilion inside the Real Jardín Botánico in Madrid until the 9th December 

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P.S. Yes the blog has been lying dormant for a while.  Hormones, hospital visits that involve a “bleed bag” and extreme fatigue somehow don’t make you want to HIP-HIP-HURRAH about fashion.  My fash-mojo will be making its way back onto the site now though…