The window dressing of the Ter et Bantine
show was intriguing. A handful of exceptionally lo-fi versions of "Anarchy in the U.K." provided the soundtrack. Here was a ukulele; there was a gypsy violin. Maybe this was intended to suggest that the impulse to overturn orthodoxy isn't only confined to spotty London oiks with electric guitars, while also serving as an intro to T&B's no-frills but graceful integration of masculine and feminine dress codes. So a boy-styled three-button houndstooth suit shared catwalk space with a strapless, peplumed outfit, also in houndstooth, that could have stepped, with a little poetic license, out of an Irving Penn couture shoot in the 1950's. And then something like the turtleneck and cropped pants was so bare-bones Beat that you could question its place on a catwalk at the same time as you could see it walking down the street. Which will probably always be a fundamental issue with Ter et Bantine. These aren't clothes for show. They're much too subtle. But they may well win hearts and minds where it really counts.