Part of the joy of Duro Olowu revealing his collections is the presentation itself. Typically, Olowu talks through the looks as the models parade in his clothes, either in his riotously wallpapered bijou showroom in St. James’s or an equally maximalist private home belonging to one of his friends. So it felt almost shocking to see his clothes this season in the white-walled Sadie Coles gallery on Bury Street. “I like that it’s no nonsense, no distractions,” Olowu said. “You can really see the clothes against the plain background. It’s been quite nice to see things in motion in that way—even for me.”
The greater focus on the precision of Olowu’s lines and the textural subtleties of his chosen fabrics made sense this season: many of the looks forwent his signature clashing patterns and were instead cast in head-to-toe black. There was nothing dour or funereal about Olowu’s use of the shade, though: a series of looks with voluminous sleeves and trumpet skirts were cut from a brocade silk that had been hand-embossed with a pattern that echoed palm fronds. Another cluster as crafted from a richly textured black bouclé that was structured but not stiff, while a handful of separates—including an especially dazzling swishy, hip-length cape—were lavished with shimmering black paillettes sewn downwards to reflect the light back upwards. “Really, it was using black in a very emotional way,” said Olowu.
Part of what set his cogs whirring this season was memories of visiting his mother’s Jamaican relatives in London in the 1970s, and the way in which his cousins—young women in their late teens and early 20s, many of whom were part of the lovers rock scene—would dress in ’40s-inspired pencil skirts and bomber jackets and culottes, all styles that he reinterpreted here. “I really wanted to make them not feel laden with nostalgia; to make them quite modern,” he said. He also noted the influence of the Jamaican-born British photographer Armet Francis, whose extraordinary photographs of women in outdoor fashion shoots in Brixton Market in the ’70s feel as fresh and relevant now as the day they were made. In Olowu’s words: “It was elegant, but it was also kind of determined and cool. Cool in a good way—they weren’t copying what they saw in magazines.”
The overlapping appointments throughout the morning ensured Olowu’s presentation was as much a social activity for the editors and creatives of all stripes that were passing through as it was a showcase for his latest collection. Yet you couldn’t take your eyes off the clothes: everyone was cooing over an Argyle wool jersey knit Olowu had cut into strips and reassembled to create a set of hotly desirable hats and scarves. The meticulously cut white-and-toffee brown jackets and dresses featuring an abstract coral-like print were clearly a hit. “I like the fact that the presentations are about the fashion, but we can also have these conversations about art and politics and film, everything rolled into one,” Olowu said. “Even though it’s work, it doesn’t feel like work.” It’s exactly why Olowu’s clothes hold such elegance and ease.