“What is in front, what one shows, is not necessarily what is behind,” said Rei Kawakubo of her fall 2006 collection worn here by (from left), Lisa Cant, Sasha Pivovarova, and Gemma Ward.
Photographed by Irving Penn, Vogue, September 2006
Exactly 100 years ago today, Universal Pictures released The Phantom of the Opera, the silent film adaptation of Gaston Leroux’s 1910 Gothic novel of the same name. “The story, in brief,” wrote a journalist at the time, “tells of a strange creature of darkness, with the gifts of a god and the face of a monster, whose strangely warped soul selects a little opera singer as the medium by which to even a score, supposedly owed him by the world.” He was a monster with mommy issues who hid a face his mother couldn’t love under a mask. In return for giving a soprano a golden voice he demanded love.
Lon Chaney, who played the Phantom Erik, created his own skeletal makeup for the role.
Photo: Courtesy Everett Collection
It’s a tale that’s been retold many times in various mediums, including the stage, the screen, and even a fashion show. I, for one, can never hear the title without Rei Kawakubo’s fall 2006 Comme des Garçons collection popping into my head. It was presented under the grand chandeliers at the Sorbonne; the soundtrack was Verdi’s aria, “La Donna è Mobile” (“Woman Is Fickle”). Capriciousness is a charge often levied at the fashion industry. Kawakubo, for her part, welcomes change, and even uses it strategically in her fight against the system. In this collection the battle of the sexes takes place not in an opera but within single garments in which masculine and feminine elements more often clash than jigsaw together.
The Sorbonne, glitteringly lit with chandeliers was the setting for the show.
Photo: Fairchild Archive / Getty Images
To be and not to be. Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
A two-sided argument. Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
Another of her hobby horses that season, reported Sarah Mower, was the “the persona—what’s in front, and what’s behind,” i.e. self presentation. The collection, she wrote, was “a powerful study on masculinity and femininity—and the everyday theater of getting dressed.” Kawakubo de- and reconstructed myriad combinations of his and hers. A corset was built into the jacket of a pants suit, dresses fronted jackets, fabric emerged through slashes, and trains were attached to pants that gave Victor from the front, and Victoria from behind. There was a Shakespearean air to some of the pieces (see Look 10) and a hint of flamenco. Drama, she said.
In this case, it takes only one to tango. At Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
A corset suit at Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
An inside-out jacket at Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
A dress-jacket at Comme des Garçons, fall 2006 ready-to-wear
Photo: Marcio Madeira
Mannish shoes accessorized each look and every model had a fantastical head piece made by Kawakubo’s frequent conspirator, Julien d’Ys. Fedoras were worn with masks that tied around the head, nets covered the face up to the mouth, berets were cut open. Some hats came bedecked with flowers and others with spirals of pleated ribbons. Most phantom-like were the half masks, some with a surreal look of a face seen in profile. What all had in common was a focus on the eyes.
Lon Chaney, far left, in The Phantom of the Opera, 1925
Mask by Julien d’Ys for Comme des Garçons
Photo: Marcio Madeira
Mask by Julien d’Ys for Comme des Garçons
Photo: Francois Guillot / Getty Images
Claude Rains in the 1943 film version of The Phantom of the Opera.
Photo: Courtesy Everett Collection
Gerard Butler in the 2004 film version of The Phantom of the Opera.
Mask by Julien d’Ys for Comme des Garçons
Photo: Marcio Madeira
In “Fight Club” a story about Japanese designers fighting the status quo that ran in the September 2006 issue of Vogue, the Comme des Garçons designer told Mower: “From the beginning it was not just about making clothes. I wanted to design a company that expressed my inner values because I wanted to be independent and free of any moneymen.”
Kawakubo wants us to not only look at, but exist in the world in unexpected ways. In an industry focused on surface, she creates beautiful, if restless garments, whose unusual construction reflects her process of reaching deep inside to create pieces that “wear” their own feelings and beliefs. This is what makes them hauntingly beautiful. This season, she had a message: Masks can change the way you look, but not who you are.
