THE BEAUTIFUL AND DAMNED
Historical theatre clashed with trash Hollywood in the ghouliest of places for Gucci’s mystical Cruise ’19. By Natasha Kraal.
“The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain”—Dante Alighieri’s “Divine Comedy” cast the script; the scene, an Inferno of fireballs, haunting church bells, and creeping fog, as candles melted on tombs of a thousand years. This could be Alessandro Michele’s staging of heaven and hell, in the ancient Roman necropolis of Alyscamps, at the cultural city of Arles in the south of France, where sweet angels in neo-Victoriana silk floral tiers, beautiful widows in dramatic black velvet, and gorgeous ghouls in tiger-headed Guccy satin bombers wandered down a flame-lit runway, smoke stinging their eyes, to the haunting soundtrack of Claudio Monteverdi’s “Vespers for the Blessed Virgin”. “It’s a place that belongs to everyone,” said Michele, on the choice of this UNESCO World Heritage site that is not only a cemetery, but was once a fashionable promenade during the Roman occupancy in 1700 AD that, with its glamorous Gothic vibe resonating with Michele’s fascination with death, made for an extraordinary mise-en-scène. Amor fati—love of fate—impassions Michele’s mind, as he flits between death, life, and the afterlife, with inexhaustible ecstatic creativity. For Gucci Cruise ’19, the penultimate act in his trilogy tribute to France, the play in continuous characterisation made every page of his spectral fashion fairy tale of 114 looks, each distinctively styled to the other. One can’t finger-point the exact themes and, god forbid, trend them, but imagine the vivid layering of embellished silks, decorative tweeds, jewel-tone velvets, pastel puffers, GG-print jersey, and watercolour florals, in a fashionable dramatis personae Michele described as “a mix of widows attending grave sites, kids playing rock stars, ladies who aren’t ladies.” The references were historically European and curiously collaborative, where a trio of heritage conservators and graduates of the National Institute of Cultural Heritage and the Sorbonne, who formed artisanal wallpaper company À Paris chez Antoinette Poisson, worked on the watercolour florals and embellished prints. The licking gold flames on bags were inspired by the medieval Aberdeen Bestiary, while Freemason symbols from the age of Voltaire made motifs on leather duffels. Crosses and cameos accessorised swishy velvet robes and oversized quilted jackets, while tiger heads inspired by vintage Hattie Carnegie jewellery combined with the Gucci horsebit and GG logo as the logo trifecta on the latest Rajah bag. But what’s Gucci without conspicuously creative pop culture references? Michele continued his play with Disney toons; this time, the three little pigs from the 1933 cartoon danced gleefully on a candy-striped tee and tote. The Sega-fied Gucci logo continued its reign on sneaker-sandal hybrids; Major League Baseball logos were patched on backpacks and bombers; and Chateau Marmont shifted attention with a tongue-in-cheek trip of the hotel’s Pan-stamped laundry bags and souvenir T-shirts, all poised to be the next anti-fashion fashion statement. Blindly impassioned—to paraphrase Michele’s “Aveuglé par l’amour” motto—the creative director has yet again carved an opus of tumultuous romances. It’s maddening to even try to pause on a single magical costume as a recollection of the collection; the oeuvre is what makes its mysterious beauty. Take what you will, even a sliver of this with operatic collection, be it the pimped-out sandals, the vintage snakeskin pumps, or the new-style Arli bag—named after, what else, Arles. Then behold, the happy ending to the dark fairy tale: the perfect white bride in the likeness of Stevie Nicks in billowing, shimmering white taffeta and a Frank Olive feathered hat, fashioned by the artist as the myth, the soul of this divine comedy.