September 13, 2002 London
Boudicca’s Spring spectacle left viewers groping for meaning once again. The stage was set with a black-painted skeleton, a stuffed black swan, bowls of black-painted apples and digital clocks that the models punched into action as they passed, in the same clothes, over and over again. It was surreal, painfully slow and much like being trapped in a looping dreamexactly the vibe the designers intended.
Did the clothes mitigate the torture-by-conceptualism? Almost. There were beautiful asymmetric jersey dresses as well as elegant one-sleeved taffeta gowns. A normal woman could wear these statuesque, graceful clothes without being an involuntary walking art manifesto. In the end, it’s as simple as that.