Resort 2017: Dior
Oh dear, Dior.
I mentioned yesterday in the Vuitton review that taking guests to exotic locales as part of “resort” season was the big new thing done by all the major houses, as they try to make “Resort” season happen. (Or “Cruise” season happen, as some have been fruitlessly trying to rebrand it.) Smaller design houses have steadily ignored this so far–one can see by the rash of pre-posed photos and small 20 odd look collections that began flooding the fashion blogs yesterday that most are perfectly happy to leave resort just as it is, thank you. The problem is when some of the bigger houses feel pressured to going to rush to make resort a thing when they should stand with everyone else against such silliness.
Unfortunately for Dior, they are in a double bind. Without a Fashion Director to lead them, those who are responsible for the brand–a conglomerate of suits and shareholders–feel the need to enter themselves into this derby, basically because there is no director to tell them what a terrible idea this is. (They even called it a “Cruise” show.) But it only gets worse, as they have nothing to speak of once they get to said “exotic locale” (which was dull, grey and depressing rainy London–not exotic in the slightest, despite billing it as a charity show.)
Instead, those who trekked in the rain to see Dior found themselves having to put a nice face on what was little more than an interim type collection made by Swiss duo Lucie Meier and Serge Ruffieux who have been brought in to keep the brand afloat since Raf Simons quit over six months ago, and the brand has been unable to secure a replacement. the resulting mess that walked was sort of hodge-podge of Dior-esque ideas without follow through, or worse, Dior-esque ideas with bad follow through. Random leg of mutton sleeves came and went, rouched bodycon dresses failed to be either, and there was one applique I swear was sewn on upside down, because that was the only explanation for it.
Mixed into these 47 looks were a few nice summer garden party dresses, fit for a lovely English tea party. But the bad looked rained out the good one, and London weather rained out the tea party. Perhaps next time, those in charge of Dior can stop pretending things are going just fine, take a breath, and a collection or two off and, find themselves a fashion director–or at least figure out what’s so broken inside the company’s culture that they had one quit so abruptly and have not been able to find a single person willing to head up such a high-profile named brand.
The rest of the collection, such as it is, is below.