On Tuesday, during its cruise show in Biarritz, Chanel introduced a creation that was not so much a shoe as a sh—. Not a sandal but a san—. Just small bits of leather cupping the model’s heels, held in place by angel-hair straps tied over the instep. The model’s feet, from about mid-arch to the toes, were left naked to feel the plush ivory carpet on which they walked. I am sure they were thankful it was not a stark cement floor.
Chanel said the designer Matthieu Blazy “wanted to evoke the down-to-earth feeling of a woman coming out of the beach or the sea.” The result was, it said, “shoes that almost look like jewelry.”
Indeed, this design is gossamer to the point of becoming a metaphysical paradox. (I believe it was Freud who went mad positing when does a shoe stop being a shoe, right?) But really, these heel caps represent irrational, nonsensical luxury at the highest tier — shoes made for feet that never touch the ground. Maaaaybe these are for your private spread in Capri, not the lowly public beaches of Delaware. Also, these shoes — if they are produced, of course — provide the rich with a chance to show off their Chanel-caliber wealth, even while barefoot.
As stunty as these shoes are, it’s worth pointing out the extent to which fashion brands are reconsidering what a shoe can be and how to charge money for less and less coverage.
What is the success of Margiela’s cloven Tabi boots if not a testament to the fact that people want to turn their lower extremities into an alien form? We’re in the shadow of the Row’s $890 jellies and Alaïa’s $990 fishnet flats. It goes on. This spring, JW Anderson is selling flip-flops shaped like a Monstera leaf, and Balenciaga’s got a platform thong in satin.
Chanel has deduced that you can’t add to a shoe to make it extraordinary anymore. To cut through, you have to strip it all away. Or, I guess, strip it half away.
Fashion’s Most Insatiable Collector
A retrospective is opening today at the Design Museum in London on the A Bathing Ape founder, current Kenzo designer and world champion collector of stuff: the Japanese designer Nigo. When the museum first contacted me about the exhibition, which encompasses more than 700 artifacts, largely from the designer’s archive, I thought how could that be? Over the years, Nigo has had several highly publicized auctions of his holdings. Turns out, there was always more. Here are a few highlights from the show, which runs until October.
The custom denim jacket was made by Levi’s for Bing Crosby. As the story goes, Crosby was turned away at the Vancouver Hotel in 1951 for wearing denim, which was deemed déclassé. Smelling a PR opportunity, Levi’s made him a denim tux, which Nigo later bought and wore.
Growing up in Japan, Nigo was smitten by American musicians like Buddy Holly. He would later remake his version of Holly’s blocky-block eyeglasses and purchase a signed copy of the singer’s high school yearbook.
What’s notable about this 30ish-year-old sweatshirt, an early design for Nigo’s Bape label, is that it’s produced by Camber, a manufacturer in Pennsylvania. It’s a testament to how Japanese designers often hold American-made clothes in higher regard than many Americans do.
Ask Vanessa
Does my handbag need to match my shoes, my coat or what? Does that rule even matter anymore, and if so, where and when does it apply? — Madeleine, New York
The “matchy-matchy rule” — which is to say, the idea that you should match the color of your handbag to your shoes or your outfit — is a sort of postwar, midcentury-modern (or not-so-modern) trope, originally sold as an easy hack to demonstrate sophistication and attention to detail. Read more.
The Japanese T-shirts so many of you wanted to know about are …
A number of you have written to ask about the T-shirt in the photo illustration at the top of my article on Japanese designers. Unfortunately, that was just an illustration. Sorry!
If you are looking for something similar — a heavyweight tee with a sturdy neckline — the Uniqlo U T-shirts are close. As are those from Lady White Co. and Velva Sheen. My advice. though: Try eBay. I’ve found the bulk of my shirts by searching “vintage deadstock white T-shirt.” Simple white tees are ones of those things that were made better back in the day.
