RICK OWENS took us on an epic otherworldly tour this evening for a collection that took all of his tribal, primal, sci-fi and creaturesque hallmarks and showed them off as one - an evolutionary offering of the Rick Owens woman.
We sat in the concrete depths of the Palais Tokyo and out she came like a statue that had peeled free from the cement walls, her face painted in gold and silver. Below, she wore cocoon-twisted and folded dresses - they pointed here, they pulled there and overall there was a play with shape and proportion. Skirt panels fell below at the front, wedge boots rocked feet, later it was gladiator sandals climbing up the leg.
Peplums protruded and lilo-quilting inflated shapes that were simultaneously restrained. There were combinations of swathes to stiff shapes and vice versa and then tufty-seam sandy sack-style dresses, primitive woman at her most stylish. A futuristic space-age upgrade came when switchboard panel embellishment glistened across them instead, sharp golden strands dangling - the finale of which, as the models darted out en masse to weave their way around concrete columns, felt like they were human shooting stars. The firework-sounding siren music only enhancing this.
Here there was a Rick Owens woman to suit them all. Of course, if she's not you in the first place, you might have a problem - but that was always going to be the way.