Sun-Bleached Dreams
Spring/Summer 2023
We live in an age where things seem to be increasingly forgettable and disposable. Attention spans have reduced down to the fraction of a second between swipes of the thumb. Fashion is no stranger to this phenomenon. Indeed, it is fuelled by it, with its frantic scrabble away from death, or worse, irrelevance. But while the shiny perfection of the new has an undeniable allure, fashion often seeks out the veneer of authenticity given to it by age through faux patinas. In doing so it seeks to add cultural cachet and thus further justify its own existence. Fashion is constantly plundering the past for references and inspiration to create its ever-changing present (Walter Benjamin’s Tigersprung in action, as laid out by Ulrich Lehmann), and so perhaps it is not surprising that it would seek to visually represent the ravages of time itself.
This can be done in a way that is truly amazing or truly dreadful. What comes to mind are meme-worthy designs, such as the ridiculously expensive pre-distressed Adidas Stan Smiths by Balenciaga or Golden Goose sneakers. The faux patina seeks to give the shoes the suggestion of a story, lying as it speaks of a long and interesting life that will likely never be, because they will be discarded after a season or two. And that is to completely sidestep the supposed irony of inconspicuous consumption behind buying such items which leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It reminds me of making treasure maps as a child by staining paper in tea or coffee and then burning the edges. A childish attempt at creating history.
Lazy design will always irk me. Especially in this case because I actually love consciously and thoughtfully pre-distressed design. After all, I am a Yohji fan, and his entire aesthetic makes use of conscious distressing to clothing, not to look artificially aged, but to engage the wearer and viewer with the very materiality of the garments. I also happen to love natural signs of wear and careful repair to garments, because it reflects the personal meaning to the wearer and their lived experience. The garments hold traces of life and carry genuine stories - that elusive authenticity (I honestly hate that term when it comes to fashion, but it is unfortunately the most appropriate term in this context).
As many of you are aware my wardrobe is almost exclusively black. Black hides many flaws, but one that is difficult to hide is that of fading. You can buy faded black garments from any store, but I prefer buying solid black clothes and feel a sense of pride in fading them myself through wear. I look after my clothes, but given the passage of enough time and depending on the fabric, black fades in the sun. This is where the black connoisseurs can step in and no doubt join me in discussing the variety of blacks out there (I am partial to warmer hue blacks, because you get that beautiful red black or brown black, versus what I consider the comparatively sterile blue black and green blacks).
Sun-bleached blacks. Just to look at my faded blacks is to think of Summer days luxuriating in the warm embrace of the sun. We call it sun-bleached, but if skin can be sun-kissed, so can clothing in my book. As an aesthetic it is something I really enjoy, and so I smiled seeing the work of Jiyong Kim, who naturally weathers his clothing with deliberately sun-bleached garments. The garments are made from sustainably sourced and deadstock fabrics, with their manufacturing eschewing harmful chemicals and dyes in favour of nature itself, thus seeking to create dialogue around the ecological impact of fashion.
I think the sun-bleaching looks incredible in all of these pieces, and while I am sure you could get a similar effect with a bleaching solution of the right concentration, the meaning would be utterly lost in doing so. To me authenticity in fashion is not about the veneer, it is not about the surface, but rather, it is about the intentionality of thoughtful design. Plus, it always helps when it looks dope as f*ck.
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