Our first overcast, chilly LCM afternoon was illuminated by a crispy fresh futuristic show from Lee Roach, with an admirably puritanical distaste for contemporary excess (or sportswear). All clean cuts and hard edges – excepting the odd raw-cut hem – it showcased…
Sci-fi suiting, like Gattaca but better. Mostly midnight black,
with occasional dazzling silver panels and white foils, and smart round-neck Ts rather than shirting. Barathea wools, cashmeres, twin nylons and vinyls, all set to an eerie soundtrack of windy skies and bubbling, gurgling techno.
No frills, not ever. No bagginess, no buttons, no lapels. Only utilitarian strapping and stainless steel fastenings.
Innovation. A jacket worn as a satchel, and a future-snood that every footballer should sport this January. Though they probably won’t, and they’re banned anyway.
Stillness is the move. Tight tailored looks that hardly rippled as they walked, on slow models with their arms by their side. Inertia creeps for autumn/winter.
Slicked-down shiny hair. (It actually reflected the room.) Or close-shaved heads, and always on very hot models.
As it was a very zen show, we wrote a Lee Roach haiku:
Attractive young men
From minimalist spaceships
In black, white, navy.
Text: Dean Kissick
Photography: Mitchell Sams
