At the unlikely venue of the Foreign Commonwealth Office, Vivienne Westwood showed a remarkably restrained collection of very Mad Men frocks: all cards, pointy boobies and tiny waists.
No-one cuts a dress quite like she does: the draping flatters the body, adding inches to the bust, covering a tummy.
There was none of her usual fondness for bleak tartans, but summery colors and pretty prints on tea dresses and pyjama pants. Loved the print headscarves, was less keen on the gold cowboy boots.
There was craziness, of course there was: the models’ faces were painted green or pink, while grey was streaked in their hair.
At the end of the show, Vivienne Westwood unfurled the banner we saw at the Paralympics ceremony, calling for a “climate revolution”. Hard to square this desire with being a fashion designer, but ah well. The Stephen Jones hats, a riot of flowers, were glorious.
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