PFWM AW19: JW Anderson

JW ANDERSON makes his Paris Fashion Week Men’s debut with a show that subverts and alters the expectations of British heritage. The space is narrow and dark, and the catwalk is carpeted with oriental rugs. Twist, turns and walls separate the audience from each other from room to room, as if following along the winding corridors in a historical building. The final section of the space brings in the avant-garde performance we have come to expect, as huge globes, maybe a metre across in length, are suspended from the ceiling and glowing softly. The space feels as if you’re floating somewhere in the dystopian remains of a country house study in the 31st century.

Jonathan Anderson’s eponymous label has always aimed to subvert the expectations of British heritage and this collection is no exception. Classic garments are given an Andersonian update, such as a trench coat loosing its sleeves and then being layered on top of a loud diagonal stripe jumper. The layering of knitwear is a strong feature and the neutral tones are disrupted by mismatching animal print socks and shoes.

A large selection of models head’s are adorned with a knitwear headpiece featuring large golden buttons — reminiscent of a casual astronaut helmet — the same shade as the bangles that adorn their wrists. These juxtaposing elements creates just the right amount of disruption to the perception of the classic garments, stopping the spectator from feeling too comfortable with a shape or texture they may expect.

Sweeping fringing on scarves and jumpers brings a distinctly feminine feel to the menswear, as well as introducing an ethnic feel. Psychedelic circles bring the garments back to the future, retro yet modern as they adorn clean cut contemporary dresses. Accessories are neutral, with bold neon buckles and straps featured on bags and scarves feature a bold stripe, disturbing the familiarity of each.

For over a decade, JW Anderson has revolutionised how we think about about British heritage in fashion, and this collection is no exception – even when debuted in Paris!

by Lucy May McCracken