Man hunt. Man kill. Man make fire. Man make… mankinis?
Well Jeremy Scott does at any rate. The pounding drums that blared out of the speakers at Scott’s S/S10 show at Somerset House got me some pounding blood in my ears– so epic, so primal, so dramatic, I marvelled! Then as the first model turned the corner, these epic and primal drums transpired to be the introduction to the Flintstones soundtrack.
Thanks to crimped, streaked and backbrushed wigs painted with cartoon bones and eyes smeared with red paint, Pixie Geldof and Daisy Lowe’s celebrity mugs were barely visible under the guise of the punk cavewoman. While Christopher Kane yesterday cut his hemlines below the knee, this was yet another collection that was all about the legs, with teeny tiny minidresses, bustier dresses, swimsuits and hotpants all on show. Pairing cave prints with an acid rainbow colour palette of neon greens, oranges and yellows, the hems were cartoonishly jagged, with the brilliant shoes decorated with tiny dinosaur bones instead of bows – a motif that extended to brooches that held together printed sarongs and shrugs.
So let’s talk prehistoric fashion: the idea of roughly pinning together a cut of fabric was OBVIOUSLY pioneered by those fashion-savvy Neanderthals who donned the latest mammoth/gazelle/other prehistoric mammal skin (delete as applicable) in order to keep toasty in those chilly caves. Westwood was doing the same last season with big rough cuts of fabric and safety pins last season. DIY fashion is never going to go away!
Seeing some menswear on show for the first time was also a treat, although the male model who had the misfortune to be wearing a pair of miniature printed speedos bolted so fast off the catwalk that you practically could have blinked and missed him (the chap in the one-shoulder mankini fared a little better).
A particularly fabulous piece was the pink bone-speckled biker jacket, and following look incorporated a t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Your Cave or Mine?’ accompanied by a green and black hooded shirt.
However Darwin was at work even on the catwalk, as the designs evolved before our very eyes, with the hem and necklines evening out to reveal some finely cut cartoon leopard print leggings. And finally, the triumph of the chic, streamlined little party dress.
A typically zany and enjoyable collection from Mr Scott – who normally shows in Paris, hence my insane and irrational fervour upon hearing that I would be seeing him in little old London. The only thing about leaving a Jeremy Scott show, it would seem, is looking down at your own outfit and feeling like the drabbest thing in existence. If you’re not an acid bright caveman next season, life is hardly worth living, is it? Nope.