Models with faces shrink-wrapped in hosiery may have been a nod to dapper mobsters or it may have been a jab at Kanye West’s Adidas collection of a few days ago. More likely it was a reminder of designer Shayne Oliver’s roots in the gender-fuck demimonde of East Brooklyn, a signifier stripped of significance.
Not that a reminder was needed. For all his growing up this season — knits, fur, elevated tailoring, and at least one button-up shirt actually buttoned all the way up — Oliver doesn’t feel the need to tuck his core principles. Mixing a walk-of-shame attitude (sans shame) with 90s excess, he wears his HBA right on his sleeve.