If the appointment of Demna Gvasalia, 34, the upstart designer of Vetements, as artistic director of Balenciaga was the surprise of the last Paris fashion season, it has been the toast of this most recent one. His debut collection for the landmark French label was met with raves from nearly every corner. (The all-white cast of models received harsher reviews, especially online. Asked about the matter, Mr. Gvasalia declined to address it directly, saying, in part, “What does attitude look like? Is it in the body, the clothes, the mind?”)
Balenciaga, formerly stewarded by the American designer Alexander Wang, was in need of a refresh; Mr. Gvasalia, a Sukhumi, Georgia-born, Antwerp-trained alumnus of Maison Martin Margiela and Louis Vuitton, provided it.
In short order Mr. Gvasalia has shot from an unknown to man in high demand, dividing his time between two collections and the demands of a new swarm of interested retailers, members of the media and fans.
Mr. Gvasalia arrived at the Balenciaga offices, a giant, striped market bag from his first collection slung over his shoulder, to discuss his work, his Paris shows and the early reaction to his first designs. (This interview has been condensed and edited.)
It’s been 24 hours since the Balenciaga show. How are you feeling now?
I’m starting to feel the exhaustion, actually. I worked on two shows in four days. It was so much adrenaline and so much excitement about it, I didn’t really feel tired. Now I’m start to feel that.
At Vetements last week, I asked you if you were feeling the pressure and you said: “No, I love it. It’s like a drug.”
It is. I’m starting to feel depressed today, I think. It wasn’t really pressure. It was the dynamic of every day doing this thing. The last 10 days, every single day I worked on a show. From Thursday to Thursday, then it was Vetements. Then I said, how lucky I am that there is Balenciaga show coming on Sunday. It’s not over yet. I felt like I want more. That’s why I put that song at the end of the show: “More,” by Sisters of Mercy.
Everything I knew about Balenciaga was really linked to the fashion history books where I saw those amazing, beautiful pieces that he created, but I didn’t know much more than that. And of course the period of Nicolas [Ghesquière], which was the period where I was studying fashion, so it was something that I had to be aware of. But the things that I discovered when I went... when I started to read about Cristóbal and his way of working, and then I saw the archives, very importantly what I discovered was actually his business vision.
How so?
He wasn’t only a couturier, he was also a businessman, from the beginning. Having other lines in Spain, for example, that were more accessible in pricing. They were more industrialized, less couture. When I found that out, it was very exciting for me to understand how product-oriented he was as well.
Is that how you think of yourself as a designer: as product-oriented?
I’m completely product-oriented. I only design and I only make clothes in order for them to be worn by someone, meaning that they have to be sold. It’s never done for the show or to be in a museum or anything like this. There is no point to make pieces for the show because... because there is no point. People need to be able to go to the store in six months and find what they have seen.
Do you think you are well understood?
There were quite a lot of people who came backstage after the show, and told me: “I want to buy that, I want to wear that.” That’s the biggest compliment, I think, and that’s the most important thing. In terms of the way I work, I’m not sure that I’m fully understood. But that’s because I’m extremely technical in my design approach and at the same time extremely commercial and product-oriented. It’s not about creating the dream or theatrics or making a “beautiful show.” It’s probably pragmatic and boring, the way I approach it all, but that’s the way I am.
When I went backstage after the show, I was struck by how many people were there. You were literally backed into a corner by people wanting an explanation. I’m wondering how useful you think that is.
I realize more and more that it’s so important to explain what you do. Because I’m very much about the construction of the garment. I don’t tell stories: “Oh, my woman, she went to the forest,” or that sort of thing. I basically need to explain the clothes. Otherwise they might have thought it’s just styled that way.
You said something interesting backstage, about the off-the-shoulder parka that is one of the collection’s key pieces: that the way it falls is not a styling effect.
People didn’t get it. Because it’s really constructed into the garment. The attitude of wearing it this way is part of the construction. For me, that’s the most interesting challenge of design.
I’m interested to hear your thoughts on styling. Styling has taken over a lot of fashion: There’s a lot of design that only looks good for a photograph, professionally tweaked. Yet you have a very close relationship with your stylist, Lotta Volkova, and there is a lot of styling in your shows and collections.
With Lotta, it’s less a styling relationship, it’s a friendship. She’s more someone I project on. I’d love to wear thigh boots in here, and a miniskirt. I can’t. So she is someone who does it, and when I see her, there’s something that really inspires me. Sometimes I hate what she wears. I also love that. She definitely has a point of view. I couldn’t just hire a stylist to put the clothes together. It’s really this exchange that makes our collaboration work.
By MATTHEW SCHNEIER
Source New York Times
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