Katharine K. Zarrella
Having climbed two flights of stairs in a gutted building on The Strand to be greeted by a raw concrete space covered with dust, editors were anxious, waiting for Thomas Tait's show to start. Chairs were boarded boxes, and a constant knocking and screeching screamed out of the speakers. It was like listening to nails on a chalkboard for 20 minutes straight, but it set the mood. A few people joked that they were worried about inhaling asbestos or that the structure was going to collapse. The scene was marvelously unsettling.
What made Tait's show space even better was the fact that he had enlisted his Spring '15 muse, artist Georges Rousse, to transform it into one of his renowned desolate painted environments. The walls were covered in blocks of blue, red, yellow, and green. In some places, triangular slivers in a contrasting shade shot out to the floor. This all provided quite a backdrop for Tait's army of models—not to mention his collection.
There's been a lot of buzz around Tait of late. In June, the 26-year-old became the first talent to win the highly competitive 300,000 euro LVMH Prize for Young Fashion Designers. He said that, while the cash has finally allowed him to pay some outstanding bills, it didn't have too much of an impact on his Spring lineup—he had been working on that for months before the prize was announced. Nonetheless, his show was one of the hottest tickets of the week.
It was also one of the most surprising. Best known for his razor-sharp precision; immaculate tailoring; clever use of volume; and clean, almost clinical approach to design, Tait turned out a range of experimental clothes in slinky, often see-through fabrics. The first dress, a roomy midnight silk satin pullover lined with electric yellow, was simple—and pretty. Same went for a gray viscose knit dress, the fabric of which was fashioned into points that protruded from the chest and back. But a one-shouldered navy taffeta top that refused to stay in place, thus exposing the model's breast, set a very different kind of tone. A slashed blue and yellow leather skirt paired with a diaphanous black mock turtleneck looked awkward. So did a series of checkerboard dresses, shirts, and skirts that were made from acid-colored silks or leathers and patches of completely transparent fabric. As the show progressed, nearly everything became sheer, or at least, revealing, from striped filament knit tops and dresses to slinky double-faced satin gowns that fluttered as their models stormed down the runway. These strangely proportioned, see-through wares came from Tait's attempt to draw directly from Rousse's work. This literal translation of a visual is new for the designer, who usually doesn't even work with a mood board.
It's thrilling that Tait is confident enough to venture so far outside of his comfort zone. But it was at the expense of the stern, flawlessly executed garments that got him noticed in the first place. Sure, you saw some of that here, particularly in his leather coats, vests, and dresses. Some fitted iterations came with half-pleated skirts and only one sleeve. Others were boxy and severe but lush. This was where Tait's strengths really shone.
Backstage, Tait chuckled, "I was thinking about sexiness, which is not my territory, and that was fun." However, skin doesn't equal sex appeal. Those harlequin cutout dress numbers didn't flatter the models' bodies—rather, they restricted and exposed them simultaneously. But his flattering leather numbers? And the knife-pleated dresses with tucked, sculpted taffeta tops? He is on to something there. The kid's got a vision, he just needs to iron it out a bit.
What made Tait's show space even better was the fact that he had enlisted his Spring '15 muse, artist Georges Rousse, to transform it into one of his renowned desolate painted environments. The walls were covered in blocks of blue, red, yellow, and green. In some places, triangular slivers in a contrasting shade shot out to the floor. This all provided quite a backdrop for Tait's army of models—not to mention his collection.
There's been a lot of buzz around Tait of late. In June, the 26-year-old became the first talent to win the highly competitive 300,000 euro LVMH Prize for Young Fashion Designers. He said that, while the cash has finally allowed him to pay some outstanding bills, it didn't have too much of an impact on his Spring lineup—he had been working on that for months before the prize was announced. Nonetheless, his show was one of the hottest tickets of the week.
It was also one of the most surprising. Best known for his razor-sharp precision; immaculate tailoring; clever use of volume; and clean, almost clinical approach to design, Tait turned out a range of experimental clothes in slinky, often see-through fabrics. The first dress, a roomy midnight silk satin pullover lined with electric yellow, was simple—and pretty. Same went for a gray viscose knit dress, the fabric of which was fashioned into points that protruded from the chest and back. But a one-shouldered navy taffeta top that refused to stay in place, thus exposing the model's breast, set a very different kind of tone. A slashed blue and yellow leather skirt paired with a diaphanous black mock turtleneck looked awkward. So did a series of checkerboard dresses, shirts, and skirts that were made from acid-colored silks or leathers and patches of completely transparent fabric. As the show progressed, nearly everything became sheer, or at least, revealing, from striped filament knit tops and dresses to slinky double-faced satin gowns that fluttered as their models stormed down the runway. These strangely proportioned, see-through wares came from Tait's attempt to draw directly from Rousse's work. This literal translation of a visual is new for the designer, who usually doesn't even work with a mood board.
It's thrilling that Tait is confident enough to venture so far outside of his comfort zone. But it was at the expense of the stern, flawlessly executed garments that got him noticed in the first place. Sure, you saw some of that here, particularly in his leather coats, vests, and dresses. Some fitted iterations came with half-pleated skirts and only one sleeve. Others were boxy and severe but lush. This was where Tait's strengths really shone.
Backstage, Tait chuckled, "I was thinking about sexiness, which is not my territory, and that was fun." However, skin doesn't equal sex appeal. Those harlequin cutout dress numbers didn't flatter the models' bodies—rather, they restricted and exposed them simultaneously. But his flattering leather numbers? And the knife-pleated dresses with tucked, sculpted taffeta tops? He is on to something there. The kid's got a vision, he just needs to iron it out a bit.
