At Valentino and Balenciaga, time is a flat circle

“Time is a flat circle” said Rust Chole in True Detective – a phrase that evokes Nietzsche and the eternal return of the same which, without delving into excessive explanations, asserts that time is cyclical and that each of us is forced to repeat the same actions again and again, without choice or escape. A feeling that returned yesterday at Paris Fashion Week, when on the same day collections by Demna and Alessandro Michele were presented, one always with Balenciaga and the other now at Valentino, taking us back to the times when both designers were the champions of Kering – an upward trajectory that culminated in April 2021 with the famous collaboration between Gucci and Balenciaga. It was precisely at that time that one could notice how two such different designers, focused on such different worlds, shared the same postmodern approach, a perspective that Demna directed toward the working class of today and tomorrow, in a fierce parody of luxury, while Michele threw it into a romantic and upper-bourgeois past, so out of touch that it could be aestheticized and reinterpreted as something new. Yesterday the cycle repeated itself – not only due to the juxtaposition of the two designers' collections in the calendar but also due to the repetition of these approaches. Not much, in short, seemed to have changed. To the point where it is fair to ask how much we as an audience have actually changed when confronted with collections by Demna and Michele, which have fully maintained their viewpoints on things, the world, and of course, their own fashion, and whether, for the two designers, it is time to add something new to a formula that repeats itself like a broken record.

Conceptually speaking, the more irreverent of the two was Balenciaga. Yesterday’s show revolved around the idea of “standard” and perhaps represented Demna's response to the world of normcore, to the standardized and endlessly replicable wardrobe of Uniqlo, but also to the modern concept of daily dressing standards. Yes, there were men’s suits “devoured” by imaginary moths and puffer jackets with fur-lined hoods transformed into corsets – there was even a zip-up hoodie with a fur collar (a type of garment very “mass-market,” to use a delicate euphemism) with the word “luxury” embroidered on it and a hoodie turned into an evening dress, which were quite typical of Demna. In general, a kind of reflection of the type of clothing a provincial boy in the early 2000s would have found in the local shopping mall. But, beyond business casual, there were fun fashion translations of the typical local bodybuilder outfit, in one of those tank tops that leave the entire side of the body exposed, covering only the belly button, but which formed a strangely anarchic silhouette. As well as a shirt-dress fastened with a large black belt, which anyone who lived through the golden age of business casual, also in the early 2000s, will remember, and seemed like a reference to the famous outfit worn by Kim Kardashian at the US Weekly party in 2006, but without the gray sweater.

The extreme implications of what seemed like a sort of investigation or exploration not only delved into the world of anonymous business casual, which is part of Demna’s universe, but also captured, bringing it to the runway, one of the most politically controversial and “charged” outfits of contemporary Europe: the maranza uniform – which would perhaps, generalizing, be the Italian equivalent of the English “roadmen” and the French “caillera.” According to the show notes, this outfit (which is part of the brand’s collaboration with Puma) represents “the modern incarnation of streetwear” and, in part, is, considering it as the maranza uniform, with its tight tracksuits and even the sleeveless puffer jacket, has over time become a synonym for social danger (today, in Milan, anyone who sees a group of young people dressed like this hides their valuables and quickens their pace), but also of exclusion and prejudice that society holds towards young people from the suburbs and second-generation citizens. These outfits, while not innovating an already well-established look, made one reflect on how, after all, today’s maranza/caillera are nothing more than a modern version of the 80s punks – a subculture that we no longer perceive as dangerous because it has been assimilated into mainstream culture but which forty years ago represented precisely what modern youth gangs represent today to respectable bourgeois society. In this sense, Demna’s shows continue to offer material for reflection on what fashion is today, in addition to continuing the perverse parody of luxury and its signifiers that has made Balenciaga the brand it is today.

At the opposite extreme of the "normality" spectrum was Alessandro Michele with Valentino. And if, as often happens, the concept of the public bathroom as a theater of performative intimacy, a liminal space where memories of Lynch and Kubrick intersect, promised well – the river-like collection Michele presented indeed gave us the impression that time was stuck in a spiral. It has already been widely clarified by several online critics that even the most over-the-top pieces seen yesterday at the show were references to Valentino’s vast archive, and that Michele is not remaking Gucci. Nevertheless, does this awareness and every possible cultural insight manage to deny what is right in front of our eyes? The show notes signed by Michele spend a lot of breath on the meaning of the set of the show, suggesting that, it seems, the eighty looks, about which there was no mention, were just a mere pretext. It was perhaps a more measured collection for Michele, who, unlike in the past, stuck to upper-bourgeois codes without incongruously mixing “countess dresses” with fluorescent cycling shorts, sadomasochistic harnesses, running sneakers, and so on. The good was there: the collaboration with Vans was spot on, the bootcut pants were very à-la-page, and the combinations of fur and tailored trousers, both today and in the past, reflect well the contemporary style of many young people who wear the noble garments of the past alongside their casual wardrobe. But even in light of individual valid products and looks (Michele is good at his job, he knows how to revitalize sales, and Valentino's team has always been a powerhouse), one cannot honestly say that this collection would have been different five or seven years ago, nor that the collection Michele will present to us a year or two from now will be.

Is this feeling of déjà-vu normal? Is it possible to create a sense of pure and simple wonder by evoking sophisms, philosophical reasoning, and borrowing concepts from art criticism? Why, when discussing many shows by veteran and often beloved designers, we find ourselves searching for ways to intellectualize something that no longer excites us that much and make it satisfying? More than post-modern designers, both Demna and Michele seem to be designers of post-truth, in the evaluation of whom personal beliefs, emotional appeals, and pre-formed images play a more important role than what we are actually seeing on the runway. This doesn't erase the impression of having already passed through this point, of having already found ourselves discussing the same things, looking at the same clothes, chasing further meanings because unfortunately the simple appearance of clothes has ceased to be commentary and decoration for itself and now needs explanations, clarifications, and excuses to make sense of what we see. The value of art and creativity is created when the creator in question is also the harshest critic of themselves and decides not to hypocritically ignore the judgments and advice coming from themselves and their audience but to do better, to surpass the past without repeating it. Hiding behind the lazy relativism of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” the fatalism of “but that's just the way he is as a designer” that ultimately destroys the meaning of it all, and behind the disappointing logic of “but it sells” might perhaps mean setting the bar of requirements too low. Times only repeat when we allow them to repeat, after all, both in history and in fashion.