A.F. Vandevorst

PARIS, March 7, 2002
By Sarah Mower
A.F. Vandevorst invited a thousand guests to a derelict cellar and jammed them together body-to-body on hard wooden benches. Then, after nearly an hour, they turned on strobes so violent people were screaming for mercy. Having successfully driven the audience to the brink of epileptic convulsion, the designers began their show. Ah, Paris! So edgy, it hurts.

Miraculously, even the application of this Belgian-style torture wasn't enough to ruin what turned out to be a good collection, once the lights were turned on. An Vandevorst and Filip Arickx, a pleasant couple from Antwerp, have a distinctive way of juxtaposing formal clothes with athletic pieces and graphic knitwear. Sometimes they put things on back to front, like the excellently cut men's formal tailcoats, or silk dresses. Their yellow and black stripy and zigzag sweater dresses, tights and enormous scarves looked strong interspersed with nylon bombers and ski gilets. The eveningwear has a cool, all-black drama created by layering on sequins and fringe and finishing the look with leggings and slick over-the-knee boots.

After the show, An Vandevorst said she and her husband were inspired by honey bees. But, please, it's going too far to sting a supportive audience with all that pain.

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