“When royal life and real life become one.” When Rei Kawakubo issued this clue to the meaning of her spring show, it raised many questions. Was she being satirical, politically cutting, or personal?
We could take the last first: Kawakubo most certainly is the Queen of avant-garde fashion. More like an empress, in fact. She’s a designer and retailer with a global empire, and is the inspiration to other designers, young and not so young. However, how likely is it that the ever-reserved Kawakubo would symbolically be crowning herself in this show? Not at all.
Then what can she mean by the abstract padded cotton and wired crowns that topped every look, except those of the last segment, which appeared to be a project in denim? If monarchy is a bad thing, does it also stand in for the giant tech barons who are now far more globally powerful than any royal family and imperiling democracy into the bargain?
Perhaps. When you looked into the smothering 3D abstract sculptures her models were carrying, it seemed as though nothing good was breaking through the cracks. The first, a spherical denim skirt, seemed to resemble a giant Halloween pumpkin, with red-rose tissue appearing behind the jagged cut-out teeth.
Perhaps it was the dark, fairytale, bestial nature of autocratic rule Kawakubo was showing when a cascade of fake hair sprouted over a kind of crinoline and feathers broke out on royal ledges. Palatial visuals were apparently playing out in the furnishing fabrics that kept appearing in shapes that might resemble collapsed upholstery: Ticking stripes, exploded gingham checks, antique lookalike brocade and polka dots.
But are there monsters within the throne-room, or is there a trapped princess somewhere in there? It seemed poignant when one look carried a curtain of blonde hair with ceremonial golden curtain tassels hanging within it. A young female presence without a face.
Things did not go so well for the power of the crowned heads later on. The patches of red ruching, gushes of red tape, an encasing exoskeleton and finally, a clear evocation of bloody entrails was a reminder, perhaps, of how France, where Kawakubo has been showing for decades, did away with its royal family a very long time ago.
Or was she also just annoyed with the situation that pertains to the Japanese royal family? It’s been in the news recently that although Emperor Naruhito has one child, his popular 24-year-old daughter, Princess Aiko, she’s still barred from succeeding to the Chrysanthemum Throne because she is female. A reform bill cementing this male-emperors-only law was passed as recently as July.
Still, at the great risk of laying thoughts onto Kawakubo’s constructs, perhaps it’s more a case of her warning to all would-be royalty to be careful what you wish for. It could be great fun to wear one of her crowns for a day, but when it comes to the real lives of today’s queens and princesses around the world, maybe not so much.