- Text Lewis Firth
- Photography Harry Eelman
- 16th July 2015
Associations with sartorial upcycling come with connotations of dilapidation. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, particularly in Greg Lauren’s case. He’s claimed this aesthetic for his own. Over the years his brand has developed by transforming imperfections and the unwanted into covetable trophies and beacons of craftsmanship – and acing it every time.
Lauren’s path of impressions is driven by identity, focusing on individuality, enabling a zero chance of stumbling into banal waters. Quite far from it. Post-apocalytpic tropes, as some describe them, are what differentiates the brand’s signature from the rest of the fashion pack. It’s dark; it’s cool; it’s slick; it’s rough.
This season was, like his previous line-ups, a poetic story – one open for interpretation – told through the narrative alive in the used-and-abused jackets, long coats, ponchos and hoodies. Greg has always expressed his belief that there’s beauty to be found within pain – exemplified on his garments this time through tattered fedoras that were bent and frayed; time-stained, pant mash-ups made from a patchwork of materials of contrasting colours and textures; and a neutral palette organically born from the fabrics’ weathered states.
Bring all the aforementioned together and you get depth. No need for side-commentary. Like characters from a book, each model and their outfit owned a readable personality – a full-on combat against menswear conventionalities. Greg simultaneously ditches the established notions of beauty and gives permission to oppose the norm, get roughed-up, and look damn-right hot while doing it.