- Text Kinza Shenn
- 9th January 2017
The muse for Martine Rose this season is both awkward and elegant. He wears ties patterned with Windows 95-era graphics. He wears lemon-sherbet-coloured jeans fastened erotically with an exposed zipper. He loves that kind of wrong Prada colour scheme (always made so right by Miuccia): tan, navy, pastel peach, mustard, khaki, burgundy, moss. He listens to Muzak – by choice.
The designer held her off-schedule show at Seven Sisters indoor market, nearby to the Tottenham-based studio she’s worked out of for the last ten years. It offered fluorescent hospital lighting and office carpets, combined with Colombian street meat, fake verandas, and the kind of stores that just might merchandise negligées, playing cards and pillow shams on the same shelf.
The collection was an essay on gender, undermining traditional masculinity – as Martine often likes to do – here, with satin blouses and halter-neck trench coats. The takeaway feel was comfortingly pop and unabashedly retro, full of idiosyncrasies that totally went with the spectacular bizarreness of the clothes’ setting. A standout presentation from Rose, the kind that gets its invitees out of their central London bubble and hits refresh on their headspace.