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NEW YORK, United States — Jeremy Scott is fashion's equivalent of Andy Warhol. He likes to embrace the garish banality of American culture and elevate it to an art form. His love for bold colours, outlandish prints and plain old kitsch is so authentic and heartfelt one cannot help but surrender.
Today's show was Scott's nth foray into the bee-hived, vitamic territory of TV-infected, American optimism circa 1960. He has been there many times in the past. Think sheath dresses, plastic chainmail tunics, petite cardigans and kitten heels. In this sense, the collection had an almost archival feel to it, like flipping through images of a long lost world, sans nostalgia. Radical rags and a positive longing for domesticity.
Lively and colourful, the clothes looked trademark Scott. But, this time around, something was different. The wild sense of freedom, the playfulness, the hints of plain craziness were replaced by a new professionalism. Scott has secured a new producer in Italy — a very good one, which is a major accomplishment akin to a fashion graduation. Yet the collection somehow suffered from this newfound maturity — it came across as overly product-focused. This may just be the first step of a new chapter, however. Scott will surely find a way to balance commerce and creativity — his own way.
