Marc Jacobs and Balenciaga launch politics on the runway
Article by Rebecca Holmes
Edited by Grace Kennedy
Fashion occupies a different sphere from political debate. We can consider runway fashion a scene of uniformity and accentuation; of makeup, material, colour and pouted emotionless faces but at what point can we blur the lines and include politics? Can fashion even have a say in politics and structural changes of society or is it simply a place for materialism? It begs the question: Should fashion be political? We typically view politics as more hard-lined; geared towards creating policy and changing real-life affairs but last month. Marc Jacobs’ closing show of the New York Fashion Week was both exciting and novel and although imbued with eccentricity, he also engaged in political and social circles.
Jacob’s show went further than just attire. Firstly, the arrangement of the models and audience was not stereotypically uniform. Instead, a row of white chairs of different designs and sizes were horizontally organised, which allowed for a sense of individuality of the audience members themselves to be introduced to the show. The audience therefore, were not just a uniform body as one would expect, but personalities part of a performance.
To enhance this effect, the 61 models entered, horizontally lined up before the chairs, then marched directly on the audience and past them. This borders on and revives body art, most popular in 1970s-80s. This social engagement of the audience and models felt like a rally to protect individual identity, aparticularly poignant portrayal in the face of the country’s recent populist threats to individual freedoms.
A particularly memorable piece from Jacob’s closing show was the so-called ‘flower child’. The blooming lilac, yellow and white petal frock paired with knit fluorescent yellow stockings retained a sensory atmosphere for the audience. This reminisced on the media attention in 1970s given to the so-called “flower child movement”, who also dressed in hippie, extravagant attire. They were an activist group which sought to display their opposition to civil rights strife and the Vietnam war. Jacobs is directly invoking this image to memorialise and resurrect this counterculture of unity and peace in the present day, where racial inequalities are still prominent and very much part of American culture.
Marc Jacobs, New York Fashion Week
Recently too, Paris Fashion week has further highlighted this political partiality. Demna Gvasalia presented his Balenciaga collection in an area staged as an assembly, replicating the EU Parliament with its bold wall-to-wall colours referencing the EU flag and Euro-blue chairs ordered in auditorium style. Evidently, this is a more politically explicit than Jacobs. Yet, Gvasalia’s choice of clothing and the hideous heavy metal track blasting, was far from the professionalism we might expect of the real-life Parliament. The ordinary clothes, worn by rather ordinary day-to-day people, such as a black suit worn by “Neda Bray, an architect”, attributes a political comment on the wider audience who will be affected by Brexit.
Balenciaga, Paris Fashion Week
What may seem like a random combination of the EU backdrop and boxy clothes is therefore ambiguous. Is this just an arbitrary decision? Or is this actually a statement about the changing nature of what fashion shows now symbolise, particularly in a generation of changing political climates and tensions? Fashion should not just be limited to clothing but rather a statement on society as a whole.