Two of my favourite things Dries Van Noten clothes and flowers I would love one of theses trenches.
This from the New York Times …
“I didn’t want sweet flowers,” says Dries Van Noten of the vivid color-saturated floral patterns that he layered across supple silk trench coats and diaphanous column gowns for his fall 2019 collection. “I thought, ‘What is the most spontaneous, most direct way to create a flower print?’” The Belgian designer, who is renowned for his painterly botanical prints, found the answer, as he so often does, in his own garden, the sprawling 55-acre patchwork of rose bushes, fruit trees and swaying wild grasses that surrounds his 1840s neo-Classical house near Antwerp. On a crisp afternoon in October, he headed outside armed with shears and a camera. He cut fuchsia and lemon-yellow roses, burgundy dahlias and cornflower blue delphiniums from bountiful late-season bushes and suspended the blooms from delicate transparent threads in front of a sky blue paper backdrop. He and his team then photographed the flowers, illuminated only by the fading sun, before digitally printing the images onto silks, chiffons and crepe de Chine.
The result is a collection of prints that feel naturalistic and almost palpably alive. “The last hot poker of the season, printed now on a dress, was something that I really liked as a message,” the designer says of one of the specimens, the flame red African flowering plant also known as Kniphofia. In the collection, its starburst-like petals wend their way up a dusky blue belted trench dress in a buttery silk, as if still sprouting from the earth.
Inspired in part by the introspective mood of the American writer Gertrude Stein’s 1913 poem “Sacred Emily” — perhaps best known for its line “Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose” — Van Noten felt that the prints for this collection should not be romantic. “I liked the idea that a rose can be a person, it can stand for a symbol of beauty, it can stand for many things,” he says. Combining vibrant, slightly acidic colors — sugary violet, ice blue, sherbet yellow — with moody grays and masculine tailoring, the designer created what he describes as an aura of “strange beauty.” To that end, he deliberately photographed the flowers for the prints in the fall. “At the end of the season, you have mildew, black spots,” he says. “You saw all the flowers with imperfections, but it gives the flowers reality.”
Share this Post