A bit of calligraphy on a jewel-coloured invite, a souped-up Souk soundtrack and a fez on every other look. Oh dear - PPQ have decided to Frock the Kasbah.
There is a curious proliferation of fashion shows in London which exist, in large part, as a half-decent excuse for a big party. PPQ has headed that lists for years now - Percy Parker and Amy Molyneux have many a shindig to their name, alongside a record label, occasionally finding the time to knock out a few frocks as passable preamble.That's all fine and dandy - it is what it is, at the end of the day. It's when PPQ start to go all 'fashion' that the trouble starts, and hence why S/S 2011 was something of the proverbial mixed bag.
A bit of calligraphy on a jewel-coloured invite, a souped-up Souk soundtrack and a fez on every other look. Oh dear - PPQ have decided to Frock the Kasbah. Their vision was more Paris than Persia, however, preferring to pay homage to Yves Saint Laurent's opium-hued couture excursions to the east. Nevertheless, homage is the wrong word for clumsy spice-hued shantung cocktail dresses, bristling with peplums and seemingly dragged kicking and screaming from eighties bargain rails. It's a look the young east London crowd tired of a good few years ago: its fashion relevance today is nil. A foray into Moorish print in electric hues was similarly garish and unflattering. The less said about ruffled taffeta romper-suits, the better.
It was difficult to discern exactly what the feeling was supposed to be: Tunisian discotheque circa 1984? Jean-Louis Scherrer opens a discount outlet in Abu Dhabi? Maybe just good, old-fashioned Carry on up the Khyber comedy camp. If so, it must be said, no-one was laughing.