Fyodor Golan

Fyodor Golan are a sneaky pair, hanging on to their reputation as London’s premier young innovators and enjoying comparisons to Alexander McQueen while slipping in any number of eminently wearable, salable pieces. Let’s face it, they were always too talented for the avant-garde to keep for themselves. Not that there was any shortage of fantastical flourishes in for spring. Elongated Perspex cloche hats, baroque cutting techniques, and psychedelic prints were all present and correct. Note, too, their continued penchant for bejeweling models’ faces. Last season there were gravity-defying nose rings, this time around entire masks.


Taking the trippy films of Alejandro Jodorowsky as inspiration, the duo worked a palette of Yves Klein blue with shots of gold and candy pink. The main influence, however, was the true story of Olive Oatman, a Victorian-era Illinois woman who was captured by Native Americans, face-tattooed and sold to another tribe before escaping five years later. In the hands of more literal designers, the references could have been seen as crass. But Fyodor Golan have a rare gift for taking culturally sensitive subject matter and producing exquisite, sophisticated work, as they did with their triumphant debut collection four seasons ago, a fusion of Renaissance art and tribal scarring.

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