Yohji Yamamoto's collection was like several collections in one. The music chopped and changed as the clothes did, from austere to military to rock to sexy to glam. Models sported cropped, bleached mop tops atop long brown locks, with the freshly cut hair still falling around them.
I was reminded of the Wim Wenders documentary, the classic scene where Yamamoto sits on the floor, cutting away with his scissors, touching all of the fabrics, and pondering the balance and weights. He talks of his continuing exploration of the body of the European woman, and this collection was just that: an exploration of European tropes.
In interviews, the designer has spoken of the sex appeal of youth. And it was no shock to see sex was still on his mind, after his sexed-up fall collection, though this time it was a softer approach. These were the grown-up versions of the girls you met in art school, effortlessly beautiful, braless, smiling and sexually charged.
Soft layers of chiffon and silks floated around the body, defying gravity, the bodies themselves holding the clothes together. Complex crisscross straps on the backs on dresses, juxtaposed against the simple drapery on the front, and pops of sheer color exposed the models as much as concealing them, while felted fabric on skirts were cut and tattered punk-style.
This was Yamamoto in his purist sense, distilling and pouring forth his current meditations on form, all over the place yet somehow focused.