March 06, 2004 Paris
Owens has certainly given his all to Revillon. That includes the cropped pants, his up-here, down-there skirts, his shades of greige and mouse, and the strange, almost hairless pallor of the models seen in his own show. Granted, for Revillon, he replaced his beloved denim with needle cord, abused in patches to the point of threadbare, which is certain to be influential. (And he swears those pieces aren't just fillersthey'll definitely be made and sold alongside the fur.)
In a certain way, all this shows integrity. On top of that, Owens deserves kudos for forging an anti-retro vision for fur. On the downside, why risk cannibalizing his own collection in this way? And grafting an underground aesthetic onto the classic ladylike Parisian fur-store experience is bound to produce certain, er, cultural misunderstandings. What kind of welcome will those scruffy Owens fans receive when they show up at Revillon's very proper front door?