Meadham Kirchhoff glitterbombed the runway with Tuesday afternoon’s disco extravaganza...
Ask any editor or stylist why she got into fashion, and you’ll probably hear a story about an outfit. One of this site’s editors cajoled her mother into taking her to Brick Lane to buy a brightly embellished salwar khameez and wore it every day for a month. Another (ahem) still wonders what came of the orange glitter swimsuit she wore over lipstick-print ‘crazy leggings’ for pretty much all of 1991.
Before taste, workwear and the hegemony of street style arbiters entered the equation, before we grew up, got responsible and donned neutrals, choosing clothes was about one thing: how bright can it be?
Meadham Kirchhoff tapped into the childlike delight of dressing up with their London Fashion Week show.
The designers gave us a disco-tastic medley of high-energy looks set to a Madonna, Mariah and Abba-filled soundtrack. Shrunken denim jackets and waistcoats came bearing slot-machine and flower power badges. Tiers of silver and gold tinsel flickered on a bolero and cropped trousers, like Pan pants for the unafraid. Babydoll dresses in big-top bright silks bounced and shivered as models struck poses on the light-up dance floor.
Those models must have spent hours in the makeup chair. Most wore candy-coloured quiffs in the style of Edward Scissorhands and high-vis eye makeup; some received full faces of glittery green, red, yellow and blue paint.
All the outré styling couldn’t obscure that there were some seriously great pieces in the mad mix. The blazer from a rainbow-sequinned suit might have sagged under all that embellishment, but remained nipped-in and sharply tailored in all the right places. Lace-edged slips and ankle-length dresses returned and reminded us why they’re one of the duo’s most popular and wearable ideas.
A metallic silver, black and teal leopard print looked set for absorption into mainstream wardrobes as a bomber, finely quilted a-line skirt or gently flared trousers. With a black or white t-shirt, those pieces would look as slick as anything the glossiest-maned Celine wearer could manage. And isn’t that a wild thing to think?