Bright, garish prints are big this autumn-winter. Rarely has a nascent fashion trend had such potential for disaster. In the wrong hands, the worst is a certainty. The wearer’s confidence – or lack thereof – can be a razor-thin marker between a ridiculous outfit or a stylish, sublime one. One moment of self-doubt and the bearer looks self-conscious and silly.
It’s as close as you will get to the emperor’s new clothes without actually taking your clothes off, but that shouldn’t stop the brave among you from trying. If nothing else, these bold new prints are nothing but pure, uncut joy and should be worn with the sense of fun that they embody.
The currents have shifted and, like the North Atlantic Drift hitting the coast of Ireland, otherwise frigid fashion spots are heating up and bursting with moments of lush tropicalia. In London, Paris, New York and Milan, bold, graphic prints in paintbox colours brought to mind the Op artists of the 1950s and 1960s. Bright, swirling colours on dresses, blouses and coats conjured up an air of in-your-face maximalism.
At Christian Dior, Raf Simons’s carefully constructed image of the floral, reserved Dior girl was unceremoniously dumped at the altar for a more psychedelic but no less chic muse.
Boxy, long overcoats in shades of acid-bright greens and yellows were worn with thigh-high, skintight vinyl boots and unitards splashed with lava-like, creeping blobs of orange and olive green.
At Loewe, Irish designer JW Anderson took his love of the 1980s to a whole new level with deconstructed power-suit checks. Sober blacks and grey woollens and tweeds were cut across with overlapping squares and rectangles of red and green, layer upon layer of which were employed to dizzying, almost hallucinogenic effect.
Optical illusions
Meanwhile, Christopher Kane took optical illusions to a whole new level with an array of dresses that were sex on legs. Dresses panelled with layers of Swiss lace were revealed, upon closer inspection, to be representations of anatomically correct, writhing nudes; an actual orgy of colour that would be worn later that year by FKA Twigs at the Met Ball in New York. The marriage of sex and pattern didn’t end there. A series of coats punctuated with stark zig-zags were supposed to represent what Kane called “an electric orgasm”, and a true sexual undercurrent defined his collection.
Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli had a different vision at Valentino, which used pattern to represent its more demure, romantic underpinnings.
Dizzying black-and-white stripes, checks and triangles were used on coats and dresses. Decadent gold and silver lace was overlaid in dresses that might have been worn by the subject of a Gustav Klimt painting. Bold red and blue poppies stood out on flowing black dresses. The prints were especially evocative of the 1960s and 1970s. Textile designer Celia Birtwell, who was responsible for the original prints, is a frequent Valentino collaborator and muse.
The glut of patterns, colours and themes can border on overwhelming. The deconstructed checks, crazy-angled stripes and zig-zags and the duotone flowers might not be so easily replicated on the high street, but the spirit can be easily captured. They are surprisingly easy to wear, so long as you know what colours suit you.
The focus is on big and bright. Cool-toned skin will look good with sea shades of green and blue, berry reds and crisp silvery greys, while warm tones will suit golds and brick-reds with earthy greens. These prints harken back to previous decades , so vintage or thrift shopping is a cost-effective way to get the look for much less.
Away from the runway, it’s best to keep shapes and accessories simple in the face of these multicoloured swirls. Stick to one large, complicated piece and try to avoid clashing different prints.
