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Veronique Branquinho

PARIS, June 26, 2008
By Tim Blanks
An ocean backdrop, the sound of breaking waves, a summer collection…ah, yes, but Veronique Branquinho is from Antwerp, so the sea she was thinking of was probably a chilly Nordic body of water, rather than some balmy tropical spot. And there, in a nutshell, was the existential crux of her collection. She mentioned a road trip in her show notes, and a tee sported the message "The highway is for gamblers." But the Talking Heads song on the soundtrack was "Road to Nowhere," so the gambler clearly lost.

There is surely no better designer than Branquinho to dress him when he's down. A dark, glazed linen suit for those darkest hours before the dawn, a tequila sunrise-colored tux jacket for those moments of false elation, a pinstripe all-in-one for that giddy plunge into oblivion—you could create a character arc in the minutes her show took to unspool. And, should you be more inclined to simply reflect on the items the designer was offering for the upcoming season, you might notice the ingenuity of sweaters that disappeared into their own little pocket, the incongruity of shorts over leggings—or the ankle-lacing shoes.

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