Lots can be made of Paul Smith’s venue choice for A/W 16. He’d selected a new space - the Royal College of Physicians. Another seemingly calculated move in Smith’s recent steps to reposition his brand, promote the relevance of his collections and surge confidently - and cheerfully, as is Smith’s style - into the melee of the current fashion landscape. If in the mood for an easy quip, one could draw parallels between the role of physicians in seeking solutions to medical conditions and Smith’s own problem-solving agenda. His clothes respond to demands. They’re kind to the wearer - see those easy-breezy knits, slouchy suits and throw-on dresses. Women go to Smith for clothes that work with their life and daily demands, rather than for some directional show-stopper. We’re in an age now where practicality is cool (count the number of flats on the runway this season or note the plethora of cosy Philo-inspired knits) - so Smith’s ethos is on point. Architecture fans will probably find more significance in Smith’s decision to show around the stunning central staircase of Sir Denys Lasdun’s modernist masterpiece. The building opened in 1964, and was a lesson in combining old and new (at the time Lasdun was surprised to have been chosen and even made it clear in his interview that he would not create a building in the classical style, instead choosing to merge tradition and his own vision). They’ll make links between the way Smith too clashes elements of the past with the new - it’s the very ethos of his whole ‘classics with a twist’ mentality. One saw that today in the way retro paisley snaked across dresses and down the front of shirts, or in the way those stripes, Smith’s ultimate old-school signature, ran boldly down the front of a tailored suit or peeked out in the folds of a leather clutch.
But really, look beyond the surface, and Lasdun’s work was also about utility and responding to need, just as much as it was layering old and new. The architect spent weeks observing the life inside the old Royal College of Physicians, noting the habits, ceremonies and social interactions of its inhabitants. He designed with this in mind, just as Smith has won legions of loyal shoppers by designing with real life, rather than fantasy in mind. Apparently instead of asking the physicians ‘what do you want?’ Lasdun mused ‘what do you do?’ Smith thinks about what his women do. He thinks about the way a dress can be both sensual and forgiving. The way a silk shirt and a pair of black trousers - the strongest, if simplest, look in the show - can take you from day to night. The way a new coat can elevate an entire wardrobe. Smith’s collection shone when you could see the purpose of everything. The only weak elements were the superfluous ones - scatterings of turquoise buttons felt dated and spoilt otherwise clean, pleasing lines. Two graphic circles decorating the chest of a sweatshirt looked bizarre and gimmicky - it was quickly named the ‘Regina George jumper’ by attendees. There’s a lot of good fashion references that can be pulled from Tina Fey’s seminal teen flick Mean Girls, this is not one of them. That said, one slightly silly motif raised a smile - an apple core, lifted from Smith’s archive, decorated jumpers and shirts, and was rendered in mental on pendants and earrings. Smith likes a joke - perhaps that’s why he championed that specific fruit in a medical venue. They do say an apple a day keeps the doctor away - funny. A little twist, just as Smith does best.
