September 20, 2006 New York
But Ervell's quest for the new is perhaps best expressed in the idiosyncratic futurism that underpins his work (and we're not just talking about a T-shirt printed with an image of the moon's surface, or the shirt print derived from a Russian computer program to combat counterfeiting). There's a blouson made from cotton recycled from old parachutes (the kind that dropped bombs rather than people), and the same form is duplicated in a jacket with cashmere ribbing and silk lininga hybrid of luxury and technology. A covetable hooded raincoat closes with toggles, also recycled from old parachutes. And pieces in flesh-colored nylon, slightly transparent so that their construction is visible, have an android edge. In a season characterized by an intimate dialogue between the natural and the synthetic, Ervell matches his shapes of things to come with images of the past that are positively homespun, like a classic barn coat, or shirts with curved collars and little box-pleated pockets. They were inspired by the bedshirts that Scandinavian granddads once wore.