June 23, 2010 Paris
But the clothes scarcely had spring in their step. It was a coat-heavy show, a point reinforced by staging that suggested a wintry storm, with clouds swirling across the catwalk and wind machines blasting the front row. And while his leather pieces are usually washed and softened to limpness, Owens this time opted for skins with what he called "architectural weight," patching them into jackets that looked as solid as breastplates.
A group of white cotton coats worn with white wimples evoked penitents, or perhaps Joan of Arc, pure of heart and on her way to the stake. "I like that idealism," Owens mused. "There's something poignant about people who devote themselves to a cause. I'm not there yet." Ah, but y'are, Rick, y'are.