There's a lot to be said for face value in fashion, but it rarely gets said when Japanese designers are the subject.
They contribute almost nothing to the dialogue, preferring to let their work do the talking for them. Unfortunately, the way they approach that work is so loaded with nuance that the hapless Westerner is left drowning in self-imposed subtext, especially when the designer at hand is the cheerfully gnomic Junya Watanabe.
He has always insisted that his menswear is driven by nostalgia. His new collection felt even more so, like a relatively straight gander at a certain patrician style of dressing. (He described it as "snobbish.")
From the first passage—plaid jacket, white pants, foulard with pocket square, correspondents—the look was rakish gent.
A tan shorts suit looked like a modern take on golfing plus-fours (with a lot of help from the flat cap), and Junya's latest strategic alliance—with Scottish raincoat legend Mackintosh—was another clue to his protagonist's heartland.
Still, Serge Gainsbourg's boulevardier vibe was on the soundtrack, which added the kind of incongruous note that always distinguishes Japan's take on western style.
As the show wore on, the looks got looser and the fabrics got tech-ier, like a pinstriped nylon parka with matching Bermudas.
Shirts were collaged from stripes and checks, waistcoats had their backs cut out. But any sense that Junya might be deconstructing that snobbish (and presumably good) life he mentioned was dispelled by Levi's that were lovingly mended, rather than patched.
He even served up a proper finale, with his models stepping out in more-or-less matching white (or pale) shirts and shorts.
It was an uncomplicated, charming, summery closer, and for once, the search for subtexts was stilled.
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