Sacred and profane, interconnected by the human need for ritual. An ancestral urge that leads Man to place coins on the eyes of the deceased or a rope around the hands of newlyweds to seal their union. Prayers and spells, brought together under one roof: Rick Owens’ Temple Spring/Summer collection.
The muse, as was the case for the homonymous men’s collection, is the exhibition that opened in June at the Palais Galliera in Paris, “Rick Owens, Temple of Love”, whose creative direction was curated by the designer himself. The exhibition is dedicated to Rick Owens’ thirty-year career, with over 100 silhouettes on display.
The museum entrance is now guarded by brutalist sculptures juxtaposed in front of black windows, like three sacred effigies. In contrast, inside the exhibition stands a reproduction of Rick Owens with his trousers down as he urinates, desecrating his own work.
Once again, Rick Owens beckons us to his temple, this time located at the Palais de Tokyo, right across the street from the Palais Galliera. But this time the exhibition’s meditation on beauty and love has been transformed into an aesthetic reflection, capable of combining the surgical gaze of the Californian designer with the delicate European refinement.
A metaphysical and literal baptism takes place on the steps of the monumental building, where clothes and shoes are immersed in the purifying water of the esoteric ritual that is fashion: the goddess of transformation. Rick Owens’ dark fairies descend on Paris wearing whipped-up dresses in industrial nylon and recycled tulle embroidered by Matisse Di Maggio, an École Duperré fashion graduate whom the designer describes as the “rubber mistress of Paris”, known for her avant-garde latex creations.
The long necks of these mythical creatures are adorned with leather fringes that climb over their bodies like thorny brambles, along with sequins that have been polished and burnished until they shine no more. Leather jackets en pendant with the kiss boots wrapped around the legs, making the leading ladies of this Grimm fairy tale appear as modern-day sirens traipsing through the waters of contemporary life.
The fatigue and distress of the never-ending walk are hidden behind their black emotionless eyes, as they drag the long trains and leather fringe capes into the marble pool, to the rhythm of Somebody to Love, recorded by Jefferson Airplane. However, it seems that this collection is talking about another kind of love, a gestational one, like the tarot card of the High Priestess, keeper of knowledge and weaver of her own web.
A cerebral kind of love that appreciates the beauty of the Tudor-inspired puffed-up sleeves, transformed into translucent accordions, or seamed sheer layers that flow freely like soft negligées under stoic, bold leather shoulders.
And the coup de théâtre that closes the show is the dress with Owens’ birth chart drawn across its frontal surface with a matching puffer jacket, both in black and white. A symbol of the dichotomic forces of the universe: birth and rebirth
“Tough clothes for tough times,” writes Owens in the show notes, yet clothes that still managed to take us to church, to dare speak about love, sacrality, and ceremony. Freeing the chthonic goddesses and building them an imaginary temple, to walk the Earth again.
