Have you ever had one of those dreams where you end up in public wearing nothing but your skivvies?
“I wanted to capture this front surface that you’re presenting, and then show this kind of vulnerability [on the back] that is actually your real self and the presence of you,” Ellen Hodakova Larsson said after a show that was all business at the front, (under)pants at the back.
Pursuing this philosophical musing on the disconnect between carefully styled public facades and the person behind it, the Swedish designer sent out what appeared to be archtypical city slickers of today.
There was the long tuxedo vest worn with matching trousers, a sleeveless trenchcoat, leather blousons and Barbour coats, all with their proportions elongated just so.
But the moment models took a turn in the show space, a living room stripped back to its most abstract with a handful of panels for walls, a long wooden table and a Persian rug — later revealed to be wearables laid flat — the gig was up, with bare backs and smart poplin boxer shorts in full view.
Squint and the season could also read as a commentary on fashion itself, now performed for myriad screens, with scant a back view ever seen online.
Elsewhere, it was fur coats worn back to front, their epauletted shoulders turning in makeshift bustiers, string instrument bows turned into fringed tops and even chairs repurposed into kooky getups that had guests joking about solving the perpetual seating conundrum at shows.
Quirkiness aside, her lineup also included smart blousons with half a tailored jacket tacked on, shown in chocolate and navy, and a checked wool coat that seemed to have been cut down to size by slicing away two wide strips and leaving the resulting raw edges as decorations.
They spoke just as loud about her knack for dissecting and reconstructing garments, but added a subtext of commercial realism.