COLD & BRITTLE, IDEAL FLESH
Versace for H&M (images taken from Vogue UK)
An unfortunately timed cold has made me perhaps a little less up on the news than the blogosphere would like. Thankfully, my convalescence has afforded me a good deal of extra time to think, so here we go. The relatively recent news that Versace plans to do a collaboration with H&M, one that heavily emphasises archival pieces, ought to be widespread by now. As a fan of both Versace and history, I thought it might be fun to meditate a little bit on some of the house’s potential inspiration, particularly given this diffusion line’s near inevitable ubiquity at the coming rash of office holiday parties.
It is often tempting to dismiss Versace as perhaps a little bit gaudy, a trap that I certainly fell into all too frequently as a Comme des Garçons obsessed youth. The recent revival of Minimalism and the Bauhaus in today’s artistic landscape only further seems to underscore Versace designs as gauche and overwrought to the avant-garde viewer. And yet, the house is clearly experiencing a revival, as evidenced by both this line and their recent work with Lady GaGa.
The appeal, I believe, lies precisely in the anti-minimalism of the quintessential Versace piece. If the H&M collection is composed of archival pieces, then I would like to suggest that each individual piece is itself an archive, one that offers comfort and protection in its reliance on enduring signifiers of luxury, wealth, power and so on. Ornamentation excavated from the various strata of the European visual tradition acts as an aesthetic security blanket – warm, familiar, easy to understand and protecting.
L-R: Leonardo da Vinci’s Il Condottiere, Roman statue of Augustus
Protection is a recurring theme in Versace designs, as their ornamentation is evocative of both classical and neo-classical armour – from Emperors to Condottiere. Further emphasis of the protective nature of their designs may be found in the frequent usage of metal, from metallic fabrics to studs and beads. Dresses, tank tops, and so on involve elaborate patterns of metal adornment recalling studded leather, chain and scale mail armours of the past. Perhaps the true genius of Gianni Versace, the house’s founder, was not so much in his skills as a tailor, but as a metalworker. After all, sensuality, voluptuousness and excess are not frequently the first terms that come to mind upon mention of armour. Yet, these sentiments are precisely what come to mind when considering his designs – a body hugging Mediterranean Rococo dialectic of material excess, unrestrained design and sexuality. The helmets of Ancient Greek Hoplites were typically made of bronze hammered so thin as to be pliable, allowing for a snug fit to the head. Gianni seems to have been aware of this fact and run with it, deftly balancing dazzle with voluptuousness to create a second skin.
Behind-the-scenes of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, 1927
This skin transcends the abilities of ordinary flesh; enhancing its appearance and transcending time and age. As mentioned above, it is comforting, being a condensation of a European visual language so strongly rooted in historical tradition as to have been readily assimilated into Western culture. But there is also a futurism about it – armour may be an ancient protective garment, but it has also been sexualized in speculative fiction; think Thea von Harbou’s android-turned-seductress in Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. The garment functions as prosthesis, grounding the wearer in the past, and girding them for an uncertain future.
