Walking into the venue of the fall Collina Strada show, guests were greeted by a group of little girls playing house and Hillary Taymour’s niece singing a song about “what society wants girls to be like.” And then, almost hidden away behind this tableau, in another room visible through a series of windows cut into the space, was the runway, all in white.
The first model came out as a sort of Little Red Riding Hood, except her riding hood was a corduroy balloon jacket dress. Its floral print, with pink and green flowers against a rich umber shade of brown, brought to mind a camo print, only made from flowers instead of abstract splotches. Many of the models wore hoods or Collina Strada’s oversized bee-eye, mask-like sunglasses that obscured their heads as they moved with an overtly exaggerated, feminine walk, curtsying at the end of the runway like a taunt or a threat. (Speaking of a threat: A second floral print resembled a cheetah pattern.)
“First it started with this whole idea about being in matriarchy and what that would look like for women,” Taymour explained a few days before the show at her Nolita studio. “All of a sudden it started to become very [about being] hidden—masking or hiding the tears, hiding in a way.” One thing to know about Taymour is that she cares a lot(ta). If in conversation the mood was somber, on the runway the clothes exuded a kind of defiant, carefree energy and a richness of materials: an exhortation to indulge in the joyful when the people in power are hell-bent on taking it away. It was there in the chunky, softer-than-soft sweaters made with deadstock knits on highly technologically advanced machines in Italy and in the gorgeous wool overcoats made from upcycled wool. One, in a shade of caramel honey, was seemingly pieced together with hand-cut ribbons, their shredded edges adding an overall furry look. It was paired with a barely-there floral-print silk dress and the groovy mesh boots Taymour debuted last season that were delicately hand-beaded for fall. There was a quiet elegance about it.
Toward the end of the show, a series of gowns made from vintage wedding and first-communion dresses paraded on the runway, all one-of-a-kind styles. But do not confuse Taymour’s vision for the trad-wife trend that may be proliferating elsewhere; let’s not forget her fall 2018, which ended with the model Sasha Frolova’s vows to herself, promising to love herself “for all eternity,” and when she said “I do,” the audience cheered. Two of the models today walked hand in hand and kissed at the end of the runway. The audience, once again, cheered. The gowns will make for grand statements on altars or red carpets (but also bring forth the idea that we’d love to see a period movie with costume designs by Taymour).
“This season felt really hard to move into in a way, so I just tried to embrace our greatest hits but then also bring [newness],” she added. “I just want everyone to feel protected during this time—all my queer models and all the humans in the world, and everyone, because who knows what’s going to happen.” Of course, the thing is, she’s been doing that all along.
