With Kane's collections, there's always so much left unsaid; just a little bit of wonderment left to linger. He plays hard to get with me. He pulls me in with beautiful clothes but pushes me away with something conceptual i can't quite see, but still fight for.
This season, his quaint manipulation of shift dresses, with origami folds, took the collection out of time; as if it could exist anywhere. The sleek material seemed dense but moved fluidly and was compromised with lucent metallics. Despite appearing effortless, as the clothes moved through light they became iridescent and warranted further inspection. With a closer look, barely there brocade embellishment became visible; rained upon pieces to form a glistening film of gold and silver, mindful of spiders' webs on frosty school mornings.
With graduation, the twinkling pattern became more prominent before transfiguring into a fine-art flower impressions, outlined with glitter. The flower prints garnered elaborate entanglements, giving a ghostly illusion as they disappeared through phases of almost invisibility. They then grew clearer again as different types of flowers, from daisies to pansies, bunched themselves in a disorganised patch across grey tone sheers, which sat underneath as an ethereal mist.
Intricate beading was punctuated with rigid austerity across tops, skirts and sheer blouses, unfolding the exact symmetry of shimmering snowflakes. The encrusting was heavily laden; not a bead out of place, but still exhaled softly and let the garments glide past on mute.
You know how when you're so in love with someone, that all faults fade away and they can do no wrong? Yeah, it's kind of like that with me and Christopher Kane. For him, I'm an agreeable sheep and would gladly write a good review before even seeing the collection but, please Chris, just one thing - those orthopaedic shoes have no place in society.
This season, his quaint manipulation of shift dresses, with origami folds, took the collection out of time; as if it could exist anywhere. The sleek material seemed dense but moved fluidly and was compromised with lucent metallics. Despite appearing effortless, as the clothes moved through light they became iridescent and warranted further inspection. With a closer look, barely there brocade embellishment became visible; rained upon pieces to form a glistening film of gold and silver, mindful of spiders' webs on frosty school mornings.
With graduation, the twinkling pattern became more prominent before transfiguring into a fine-art flower impressions, outlined with glitter. The flower prints garnered elaborate entanglements, giving a ghostly illusion as they disappeared through phases of almost invisibility. They then grew clearer again as different types of flowers, from daisies to pansies, bunched themselves in a disorganised patch across grey tone sheers, which sat underneath as an ethereal mist.
Intricate beading was punctuated with rigid austerity across tops, skirts and sheer blouses, unfolding the exact symmetry of shimmering snowflakes. The encrusting was heavily laden; not a bead out of place, but still exhaled softly and let the garments glide past on mute.
You know how when you're so in love with someone, that all faults fade away and they can do no wrong? Yeah, it's kind of like that with me and Christopher Kane. For him, I'm an agreeable sheep and would gladly write a good review before even seeing the collection but, please Chris, just one thing - those orthopaedic shoes have no place in society.
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