The four stacked mattresses from which the first model popped down to begin her slow walk on Yuhan Wang’s runway telegraphed the hypnagogic daze in which this show was set. Wang said in her notes that the collection reflected the “strangeness to the moments before sleep,” which gave her license to roam through the catalog of boudoir attire while adding surrealistic touches to suggest the uneasiness of a waking dream.
These distortional twists, in turn, enabled the designer to offer crowd-pleasing convention spiked with little jolts of disorder. There were dresses constructed to resemble open bureau drawers from which tumbled comprehensive underwear options. One model in a cherry-print flyaway-skirt mini slip walked past the phone-filming audience while regarding her reflection in a hand mirror. The corsetry of an off-the-shoulder, lace-lined camisole was twisted at an irregular angle above the French knickers below. A cup and saucer were tied to the belted waist of a puff-sleeve, lace-yoked satin blouse and matching skirt: The crockery clinked as the wearer walked. Compacts, combs, and other nightstand staples migrated onto the body.
The distortions intensified as this late show slowly wended its way toward bedtime. Wadding at the right shoulder and left hip of a black lace slip threw the garment into decoratively wonky asymmetry. “Don’t look at me,” commanded a woozy narrator as a baby blue lace nightgown fitted with dislocated-hip panniers passed. Appropriate for anything from snooze button to rude awakening, this Wang collection was a hazily skewed reverie on oneiric dressing.