Like Claire Barrow and Gracie Wales Bonner, Molly Goddard is making a name for herself with clothing that sits above and beyond trends. Part of a fresh, almost anti-fashion scene establishing itself out of London, she’s known for her refreshing take on femininity. Think sheer, ruffled dresses and brilliant street casting (last season starred her friends of all ages and they were smiling! During fashion week! Can you imagine?).
This season dresses remained the absolute focus but felt tougher and more practical. While the romance was there in an abundance of sheer tulle and off-the-shoulder bodices it was cut through with plain long sleeved tops, opaque tights, thick-soled brothel creepers and, for the first time, trousers. Beautiful striped woven lurex tops undid any fussiness and, devoid of ruffles altogether, was a wonderful square-necked mustard mini-dress. But wait, we haven’t got to the best bit, because all around the rustling dresses and burnished cheeks were easels, statues, paints, brushes and right in the middle sat one absolutely stark-naked (quite craftily posed) man. Molly Goddard didn’t put on a presentation, she just invited her friends to a life drawing class, put them in dresses and let the world take pictures. It’s clever, it’s funny and above all it’s feminist. I know that word got used to death last season, but when a designer creates such unapologetically feminine clothes and then pairs them with flat shoes and hands her models a paintbrush it’s brilliant, it’s empowering and it’s a statement. These are not dresses to breathe in for, squeeze on and sit pretty in; they’re dresses for do-ers. Oh, apparently the life model stood up after a while. Just as an afterthought.