Italian jewelry designer, Ugo Cacciatori is best known for his dark and moody aesthetic. Skulls, swords, sunken treasure, and bike-chain-worthy necklaces are reoccurring themes in Cacciatori’s tough but beautifully baroque jewelry. The sheer detail and craftsmanship of the jewelry is something to be admired.
Martin Margiela did not like to appear, but the label left a mark on 90s. Margiela worked for Jean Paul Gaultier before going solo in 1988. He didn’t give interviews or sit for portraits and became known as “the Greta Garbo of fashion.” As for his clothes, Margiela’s exposed seams and exaggerated shoulder pads, his upcycling of everything from plastic shopping bags to furniture, seemed to express the sense many had at the time that “the fashion system of design and manufacture itself [was] under fire.” An iconoclast, on the boundary between fashion and art. A totally different point of view that anticipated trends: he invented the first street casting. Stunning, oversized, unfinished, destructured garments, featuring a label with four holes, and focusing on white, that took on a conceptual value. The waistcoat created with fragments of broken porcelain, the iconic Tabi boots adorned with graffiti or the vintage sneakers painted in white.
Few designers manage to dictate the sartorial choices of a generation. Phoebe Philo is one of them. The Chloé veteran has nearly single-handedly managed to influence the wardrobe of women of a range of ages since she took the helm of Céline in 2008.
Invisible. That is what Phoebe Philo’s clothes for Céline make you feel. Not romantic, like Valentino. Simply invisible. A woman in a perfectly cut shirt and a pair of pants. Despite Philo’s many best efforts, there is a Céline uniform: large, slouchy trousers; a collarless shirt; flats; a tuxedo jacket — preferably in navy, black or cream. The clothes are quiet and not meant to make a statement. And so you look invisible. Able to be viewed for more than your surface appearance. This is power dressing.