The last time Shayne Oliver held a fashion show in New York, it was set to sounds of orgasms and sponsored by Pornhub. A lot has changed since 2017, when he put Hood by Air on hiatus, but the constant in Oliver’s work is his ability to electrify and challenge the fashion system. And, boy, did he ever do that with a performance of new music with Arca and a presentation of new clothing at The Shed last night.
How to explain exactly what we saw over smoke, scaffolding, and a sculpture of Oliver melting into a platform? Having followed his work since the mid-2010s, I am sure that the best part of his oeuvre is that it cannot be easily defined or digested. In the immediate minutes following the show, as fashion people, art-world glitterati, celebrities like Hunter Schafer and Evan Mock, and former HBA collaborators Luar’s Raul Lopez and Gypsy Sport’s Rio Uribe took the long escalator journey down to the street, several people texted me about what they had seen: “genius,” “arresting,” “disrespectful,” “too long,” “arduous,” and “WOW!” No uniform consensus congealed—and 12 hours later I’m still rehashing the models’ dripping clothing and Pat McGrath’s incredible floral makeup in my head.
The fashion system loves an easy, obvious, almost thoughtless statement—“This collection is inspired by my trip to [insert remote gorgeous locale here].” Oliver’s work evades simple explanations. He’s bringing fashion, music, culture, performance, and art together, layered with experimentation and realized with the help of a vast community network. Hood by Air was more comprehensible as one thing: The industry called it streetwear. With his eponymous project, adjacent to Hood by Air’s current collection, Oliver’s Wench and Leech musical endeavors, and Anonymous Club’s community approach, the designer is doing it all—and all at once.
Backstage after the presentation, he seemed calm, proud, and at ease, starting with the clothes. The black looks that opened the show, dripping in crystals and cut to reveal all the strangest, most sensuous parts of the body, are his Black Toiles. Twelve in all, the looks are based on his first Shayne Oliver collection—to be fully debuted at a later date—and included collaborations with Telfar Clemens, Ugg, and artist Benjamin Langford, whose floral illustrations were cut and draped into gowns. Each black look corresponds to a song Oliver has written as a part of his Wench musical project with Arca, the Venezuelan musician born Alejandra Ghersi Rodríguez. Their new album will be released soon, and in their shared vision, each runway look corresponds to a single and will be the cover art for that track. The flowers that closed the show, Oliver said, “are a bouquet—and that’s what Alejandra and I have been working toward, these songs that are considered bouquets, our offerings.” He went on to describe the multimedia event, with a finale performance by Eartheater, as “a music video.”
After a year of digital, phygital, and traditional runways, Oliver’s multimedia project is the new idea fashion needs—even if many may struggle to understand the breadth and ingenuity of his work. (And more are probably annoyed about the hour-and-a-half delay.) But if the past is any indication, in two years, everyone will be trying to do what he’s doing. That has always been the case with Hood by Air, though Oliver doesn’t seem irked by the ways bigger, larger, conglomerate-backed fashion houses crib some of his ideas.
But he is definitely aware of his alt standing in fashion. He is the most insider of outsiders, obsessed over by the most influential art directors, retailers, editors, stylists, and shoppers, but is rarely granted the same status and unquestioned praise as those who play by the fashion rules. Part of that has to do with fashion’s ongoing exclusion of Black creators; here Oliver says that people who aren’t Black “think that we’re constantly copying white culture when we’re actually, like, the ones who are experiencing America and ways of dressing more than other people.
“I’m still a little shaky about presenting in New York in general and the way that it is perceived,” he continued. “It was really frustrating to always be considered underground [during Hood by Air’s 2010s heyday], but then being the top three shows each season.”
He drew parallels and contrasts with fashion legends: Unlike Galliano and Gaultier, whose runway shows were predicated on fantasy and aspiration, Oliver is giving reality. “I think my work is way more based on how real people go about it in New York,” he says. “It’s what I see on the street, and that’s what I want to bring to life with the clothes.” The elongated boots—almost Grinchian with their pointed toes—resulted in a clumsy walk. At least one model stumbled on the stairs to the scaffolded platform. It might seem like a LOL, but to anyone who has trudged through New York City carrying heavy bags, late at night, the hunched strut seemed almost too familiar. Ditto for the way the models paced through the crowd, not totally following a singular path. It was like Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza subway stop at 6 p.m.: chaotic.
Chaos is also a core tenet, it seems, of Oliver’s newest work. “There’s this weird thing where everyone has extreme editing taste right now,” he said. “No one is actually fumbling. I’m like: Let’s fumble here. Let’s do something that is meant to be really gorgeous, but let’s also embrace the flaws.” He drew another parallel to the ’90s anti-fashion legends Martin Margiela and Raf Simons. “Anti-fashion is so prominent now. The people who created anti-fashion are legends now, but I think people literally forget how fashion hated those people, hated those shows. People hated Margiela,” he said. “I just,” he paused a long time, “don’t,” he continued drawing out the word to be seconds long. “It’s time to be done with that. Let’s pick and choose what fashion is right for the conversation and for our contemporary context, you know?”
Shayne Oliver’s work is certainly right for right now—and by the looks of it, he’s not slowing down again anytime soon. He says he envisions “that these sort of things happen more. I’m trying to be at every Fashion Week and do something that activates the audience.” But still, he seems slightly cautious about promising too much, revealing too much. “It’s like every time you’re being the rebel, you have to overexplain yourself,” he says, smirking. And then, with a bottle of sake in hand and fans crowding, he’s gone.
This article originally appeared on Vogue.com
Want to update your wardrobe? These are the need-to-know trends from NYFW AW21
Tailoring, tights and bodysuits worthy of Bowie: The biggest trends from Couture Fashion Week
Anything goes! The life-affirming power of contemporary street style
