I’m beginning to think that Maria Grazia Chiuri, the artistic director of Dior women’s clothing, is perhaps the most subversive political, even radical, designer in charge of a major French fashion brand.
Not because of her dress, which is very pretty, if she’s limited to a handful of familiar shapes: full ballet skirts with cinched-in waists and crisp shirts; boys pants and bar jackets; princess dresses. Or because of her sincere, if sometimes forced, feminism, which now and then includes a message tee (or banner). But because of her approach.
At least her approach to her cruise shows, which has transformed a destination boondoggle for customers and critics (not this one: DailyExpertNews doesn’t accept free travel) into a destination boondoggle with a purpose. Namely, in the most gilded and glamorous terms, claiming that the artisanal heritage of a number of cultures is equivalent, in skill and value, to that of Parisian couture.
That the French do not have a monopoly on embroidery and material creativity. That the somewhat derogatory, and often racist, rejection of ‘craft’ as not being considered a decorative art is outdated and incorrect. And that, you know, it’s time to build some bridges, tear down the walls.
sooo. In an industry long based on a hierarchy of tastes passed down through the decades, that’s quite a revolutionary idea.
In the hands of Ms. Chiuri, it is also quite convincing. Not to mention a much more resonant take on the current fashion co-op craze than the usual you-market-my-back-I-will-yours.
She has consistently and emphatically hammered home this statement, through shows in Marrakech, Athens and Puglia, all of which feature the work of a host of independent local artisans, whose contributions were not only listed in lengthy pamphlets accompanying each show, but also on the labels on the inside of the clothing. (Chanel also showcases the work of “specialized studios” in its Métiers d’Art shows, but the studios are predominantly French and Chanel-owned.)
This season, the case was made in Seville, Spain, featuring the work of seven local ateliers – specialists in hat making, leatherworking, embroidery, fans and metalworking – as well as prints by the artist María Ángeles Vila Tortosa against the lavish backdrop of the Plaza. de España, now filled with 250,000 crimson roses.
Also an orchestra led by composer Alberto Iglesias, known for his work with Pedro Almodóvar, and a flamenco group with 40 dancers and two soloists led by choreographer Blanca Li. Plus, of course, some models wearing Mrs. Chiuri’s signature Diorisms, filtered through a reference book of matadors and madonnas with the lingering sound of castanets echoing through the seams.
See, for example, pleated black pants worn with suspenders over a white tank, and draped in a grand fringed white lace scarf. Lace cut-leg trousers with a matching vest worn under a flat-brimmed hat. Skirts richly embroidered in the gold thread used to make robes for religious ceremonies. Leather gloves, riding crop, belts and chaps.
And a host of jewel-colored, off-the-shoulder taffeta dresses that were a little less noticeable than the finale of corset infanta looks featuring silhouettes of La Capitana (Carmen Amaya, the first female flamenco dancer to wear a male uniform on stage) by Mrs. Tortosa incorporated in the design.
You don’t have to have all the backstories to appreciate the clothes, even the ones that were a little too olé taste, but they are additive.
In a Zoom call for the show, I asked Ms. Chiuri why she took on this project. (Each cruise show takes six to eight months to prepare, which takes significantly more time than a regular ready-to-wear collection.)
“First, it’s just a pleasure,” she said. “Second, it’s a responsibility.” Then she said, “If I don’t, who will?”