June 26, 2012 Paris
By a curious coincidence, the show took place in the same space where, a few years ago, Carlo Brandelli resuscitated Kilgour, another Savile Row heritage label. The brilliance of that particular effort blazed all too briefly before some cockamamy business decisions deep-sixed it. You could certainly wish for a happier ending for Malcolm, especially after the collection she showed today, with its quietly luxe restraint. The show was bookended by white double-breasted suits—one for day, one for evening—which was a clear and clever way for Malcolm to set out her stall as a mean tailor. Between the two, she mulled over men's clothes as Amies himself might have worn them, with a military inflection during the Second World War, as a peacock in peacetime. If knits tucked into pleated shorts looked a little sissy, that was a slip in the styling, which otherwise maintained a cool, sartorial precision. One might have hoped for a little more rub (Amies himself was notoriously contrary), but the eye-popping op effect of one dinner jacket hinted at the delightful excesses Malcolm may be capable of as her confidence grows.