Colour coded

It’s well known that colour affects our mood. In light of the bold outlook seen at the spring/ summer ’20 shows, we reconsider the positive power of happy hues. By Jen Nurick.

dress in spectacular colour. At least that’s what Francesco Risso resolved when he presented Marni’s kaleidoscopic spring/summer ’20 show late last year. He had been visiting Brazil when the Amazon rainforests were on fire, and told Vogue he’d wanted to stage a “joyous protest” in response. Saffron yellow and cerise wildflowers bloomed from brushstrokes onto organic cotton dresses, as leafy stems grew tall on jackets made of repurposed leather. A similar spirit of activism bubbled at Gucci and Valentino. Alessandro Michele and Pierpaolo Piccioli filtered their collections through opening looks in snow white, as if to cleanse the mind in preparation for something new. And then Piccioli delivered gowns in highlighter hues of chartreuse, tangerine and lime green, while Michele used lilac and peach. Had their colour choices been calculated or emotional? Religious or nostalgic? Certainly not indifferent. As designers across the board took inspiration from the colours of the rainbow, fronting up to the start of a decade fraught with anxiety about our health, the state of the environment and the future, their collections prompted a rethink about how the colours we wear come to bear meaning. So what had they tried to say?

“Things feel dark and scary,” explains writer and colour authority Katy Kelleher, who regularly ponders colour for The Paris Review, and for whom the season signified fashion’s potential as a vehicle for escape. “Our future feels apocalyptic. We’re in an era of climate change and political unrest. Why not wear something because it’s funny and ugly and weirdly cool?” Her attitude echoes the unadulterated optimism channelled at Marc Jacobs, where grassgreen capes and peony-embroidered gowns gestured to the preciousness of the planet, but also to the fun of dressing up. “When you wear a colour we traditionally associate with childhood, you’re sending a message: I’m playful, I’m fun, I’m friendly,” she says, reflecting the ways in which colour may generate social cues to help us identify each other. “At least that’s how many people will read it.”

But cobalt blue and shocking pink (Marc Jacobs), burnt orange (Salvatore Ferragamo, Stella McCartney) and rose red (Balenciaga) are not only the preserve of school playgrounds. Jenny Clark, head of colour at trend forecasting company WGSN, identifies that consumers today crave feel-good fashion. They want to wear colours known to induce happiness (yellow) and calm and relief (blue). “We are living in very challenging times,” she says. “Consumers are looking for their mood to be elevated with the inclusion of happy, uplifting brights.” Call it the return of dopamine dressing, a term that gained traction in fashion thanks to colour-heavy collections in 2017. In 2020, this has meant broad-shouldered lavender blouses and leather skirts in forest green at Givenchy, and banana-yellow crinkle jacquard evening gowns and plissé coral dresses at Christopher Kane.

But colour can be subversive. At Marine Serre, certain connotations associated with black (power, sophistication) were upended, while others (funerary dress, mourning) held up. Titled Marée Noire (oil spill in English, or literally ‘black tide’), Serre’s collection politicised the colour to highlight the grim realities of a world reeling from the repercussions of climate change, albeit using recycled materials. “Every colour carries an emotional cue, and colour in clothing is often a statement of one’s feelings,” explains Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of Pantone Color Institute.

If this is the case, can we infer romance from Molly Goddard’s daffodil tulle skirts, or sensuality from Khaite’s jackets and trousers

IN UNCERTAIN TIMES,

in candy-red suede? Perhaps, but Eiseman and Kelleher point out, fabrication may alter meaning. As Kelleher explains: “The way we experience colour is all about light, and light reflects differently on different surfaces.” Skin tone, colour blocking and accessories all play a part. She continues: “Safety orange looks shocking when it’s printed onto plastic. It sears your eyes … But when you put it on leather, you get Hermès. It needs that pebbling, the texture, to feel approachable.”

In a new decade where the industry is concerned with sustainability – and charges of greenwashing abound – the meaning of a colour may be affected by the fabric from which it is made, or whether its dye is naturally derived. This can be shaped by cultural coding (as Kelleher wonders: “Will we ever be able to see certain shades of pink without thinking of the colour as somehow feminine?”). Dr Ian Stephens, associate professor of psychology at Macquarie University, explains that the colours we wear do not ascribe value to our clothing alone, but are caught up in a web of factors that help us fashion meaning. He says there are several questions to consider: “Is our clothing fashionable? How much skin/ body shape does it show? How formal is it? How expensive is it? Is it appropriate for the event? All of these things are processed automatically when we look at someone’s clothes.”

That’s why for Sara Crampton, founder of online boutique The Undone (which sells clothing in black, white or beige almost exclusively), her style is dictated by gut. “Once I realised my clothes were having an impact on how I felt, and that colour was making me self-conscious, removing colour made me feel like I could be myself.” Daniel Lee at Bottega Veneta and the Olsens at The Row have tapped into a like-minded audience whose self-expression is quieter and driven not by colour but by detail. Both brands recognise real-life commercial demands for neutral fashion, tailoring their runway shows accordingly.

“During our buying process I ask for certain styles to be made in black, white or beige,” Crampton adds. Her approach is reminiscent of couture, where the dresses sent down the runway are but a springboard for the client’s imagination, and are also not limited to one season. As Eiseman reflects: “These supportive, quieter colours provide the perfect backdrop for brighter tones; they help temper the heat of the bright, yet still allow for the use of vivifying pops of colour.” For proof, look to Miuccia Prada, who seamlessly balanced linen white with clownfish orange, and chocolate brown with teal blue.

“We’re living in a world that is increasingly visually literate,” says Kelleher. “We’re becoming better at reading images quickly, thanks to mediums like Snapchat and Instagram.” This has meant a broadening of the meanings historically signified by colours. No matter what the shade, as celebrity stylist Annabelle Harron reflects: “Colour is a beautiful way to emote and be creative if we choose to.” For Kelleher, it is essential, “a survival mechanism, and a tool for social connection”. Perhaps now more than ever, colour is a handy antidote to feeling flat. We can always dress differently tomorrow.

“We are living in very challenging times. Consumers are looking for their mood to be elevated with the inclusion of happy, uplifting brights”