Thom Browne’s show kicked off with a voiceover: “Good evening, everyone. This is Thom Browne. Before we begin, I thought it would be fitting to observe a moment of silence for the incomparable Bill Cunningham.” The New York Times, in its obituary, described Cunningham as a devoted fashion photographer who resisted the trends of celebrity dressing. Interestingly, Thom Browne has similarly avoided the celebrity scene, not chasing after Instagram stars to fill his front rows. He appreciates fashion in its purest essence, valuing its fantasy, a concept rarely associated with modern fashion shows. Do they transport you to unexpected realms of imagination? Is fantasy truly obsolete in today’s fashion world? Thom Browne proves otherwise.
Once again, Browne invited us into his unique imagination. As a meticulous director, he had guests enter the Paris Event Center, reminiscent of Helmut Lang’s Espace Commines, where a solitary surfer in a gray suit-wetsuit hybrid leaned against a black palm tree on an ash-covered beach. With the suspenseful Jaws soundtrack playing, a model with a shark’s head and dorsal fin prowled the runway. Next, a troupe of models, their faces hidden by bathing caps, gray makeup, and sunglasses, strutted in voluminous black tuxedos that transformed into wetsuits. Removing these revealed the main attractions of the show: unexpected, elegant variations of wetsuits, zipped at the back.
The wetsuit theme allowed Browne to play with color and trompe l’oeil, featuring items like a green mink jacket or white pants with a massive shark bite. As always, the craftsmanship was remarkable, with some jackets made from broderie anglaise, a green slicker sporting an astrakhan collar, and a satin duchesse tailcoat with faille piping. Vibrant brogues completed the ensembles. Adding to the surreal atmosphere, models dressed as seagulls and parrots flapped their wings around the room.
The show concluded with a suspenseful strip tease, where models shed their exquisite outfits to reveal one-piece swimsuits. (Why has swimwear disappeared from the runways?) They grabbed Thom Browne-branded surfboards as The Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows” played. The entire spectacle was hilarious, campy, entertaining, and at times baffling. And sure, some of the clothes were hard to imagine outside the runway or a stylist’s hands, but who cared? It was a fantasy, and it worked.