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Editorial

Without compromise and without following the fickleness of fashion, Rick Owens continues unflinchingly on his journey, producing looks that are eternally suspended between sacred and ancestral, wrapped in great swathes of draped fabric with an air of the unfinished about them, as though they were being tested out on a mannequin. Owens cited the fine drapery of Madame Grès, but these long impalpable tunics, ethereal also in their colours, made of swags of fabric hurled around the body, were 100% Owens. So were the tops, sleeveless and shot through with transversal nodules of fabric, and the trousers, oversize, very high waist, with maxi side pockets worn with tiny leather jackets and thin colour blocked knits with silver sequin appliqués.