Total fashion immersion

I went to three fashion exhibitions in one day. It was heaven.

The heavenly ostrich feather-trimmed cloaks at Gabrielle Chanel Fashion Manifesto, at the V&A.

Where were we? Oh yes, I’ve had Covid, which is really not the greatest fun, but I have been constantly grateful this last week, while I’ve been simultaneously shivering like a frozen leaf and sweating like a boiled sausage, that I wasn’t in intensive care on a respirator.

However, it was worth catching that spikey green protein because I’m sure I picked it up last Thursday, which I spent careering from one side of London to the other going to fashion exhibitions.

There are currently nine fashion exhibitions on in the British capital. I went to three of them last Thursday. What a fun day that was.

I’ve already seen Chanel, so I’ve got five to go and I will see them all.

I need to go back to Chanel. I didn’t enjoy it, but not because of the expo – it was the experience of going to it.

I don’t like being kettled in holding pens and I wasn’t expecting that at the Members’ Night, but they had also sold tickets to non-members so we silly old members had to wait, while they went in first.

By the time I got into the show, I was in a full Victor Meldrew fury, so I need to go back and look at it properly, although even in that state there were some exhibits which nearly made me faint with joy.

The three ostrich-trimmed opera capes, in particular.

I was all Meldrewed-up again within moments of arriving at the Gucci Cosmos show, last week.

Having paid my £18 – and with two other exhibitions to get to – I didn’t appreciate being made to wait with other suckers in a very poor attempt at recreating The Savoy Hotel lobby in 1908, apparently using charity shop furniture.

Then we were herded into a lift to give us an immersive impression of Gucci-founder Guccio Gucci’s experience working in London’s very first lift in that hotel, where it is thought he got interested in luggage, as there was nothing else to do on the long ride but look at it.

Which we were told via an audio soundtrack, while trapped in the lift simulation.

If only we’d had some luggage to look at.

Once released into the airless basement venue, you finally clamp eyes on some serious Gucci product in the second (or possibly third, you get disorientated very quickly) claustrophobic immersive space.

Here, the most wonderful things – I particularly adored some 1970s luggage finished with printed canvas – are going round at quite a clip, on three concentric turntables. Moving in opposite directions. So almost impossible to take in.

The concentric circles rotate in opposite directions, giving me a migraine of frustration. I tried standing still and walking round with them.

A little further on you find yourself in a diorama filled with amazing equine-inspired Gucci pieces – which you can’t see because the lights are flashing on and off, with videos of galloping horses projected over the top.

Although I did appreciate the wonderful horse smell being pumped into the space.

About halfway through this torture dungeon you come to a particularly low point, where a woman’s voice intones self-journalling style cliches, while they are also projected onto the wall.

This is one: ‘You are made of cosmic elements that reside in you, you can speak to them.’

These turn out to be the thoughts and voice of the exhibition’s designer, artist and set designer Es Devlin.

Ms Devlin is clearly very clever – there are some astonishingly brilliant set ups in this show – but she’s nothing to do with Gucci and the exhibition has very little to do with it either.

This exquisite red lacquer display case opens and closes at the exact speed so you can’t see what’s inside.

So, if you are impressed by a fully-immersive and utterly self-indulgent art experience, unrestrained by budget, you’ll love this. If you are interested in the history of fashion, forget it.

Alight with my Meldrew energy, I emerged from the dark depths and hurled myself via Tube and light railway all the way over to the Museum of London, Docklands, for my next exhibition.

I found this show, ‘Fashion City: How Jewish Londoners Shaped Global Style’, a completely satisfying fashion experience.

Thank you, curators Bethan Bide and Lucie Whitmore, for having the courage to ignore the current trend for ‘thematically’ organised exhibitions, in favour of good old chronological progression, putting each display in its context, leading you to the next.

What a pleasure, to start the show at the actual beginning, with the first arrival of the Jewish diaspora in London in serious numbers in the 19^th century, brought vividly to life via suitcases and trunks of the period, with details of their known owners.

It was amazing to see the fine work on this tailcoat up close.

It explains how the garment industry took root and grew in London’s East End, with a wonderful set up of a tailor’s shop, showing the amazing work on a tailcoat, while also giving a strong impression of the atmosphere of that part of the city right up to the 1960s, when I remember going to Petticoat Lane, in what was still a fully Jewish community.

Then, via a very pleasing set up of going through an Underground station, you emerge, in that era in the West End, where Jewish couturiers and milliners were by then well established and admired.

All supported with Pathé news clips and interviews with marvellous people like David Sassoon, of Belville Sassoon, who dressed Princess Diana among many other luminaries.

It ends with the huge contribution of Jewish designers to Swingin’ London, with a mock up of the famous Mr Fish boutique.

Mr Bowie in his Mr Fish dress, featured in Fashion City.

I emerged beaming, feeling fully satisfied, Victor banished.

Back onto Covid-swirling public transport, also risking bed bugs (worse) by sitting on one of the velour seats, I made my way all the way across town to Kensington to the eponymous Palace, for Court to Couture, an exhibition that… well, I’m not sure what it was trying to do, but I loved it anyway.

The blurb claims that it ‘draws fascinating parallels between the world of today’s red carpet and the Georgian Royal Court in the 18th century’.

I couldn’t really make out what those parallels were apart from over-the-topness and bottomless pockets, but it didn’t matter, because the gear was so extraordinary.

There was a lot about the Met Gala, in particular the amazing Billy Porter and then a lot of random red carpet looks and the most amazing dress worn by a pregnant Beyonce, displayed for no obvious reason with the red uniforms of the Tower of London’s historic Yeomen of the Guard (Yo Men).

Kveen Beyonce with her Yo Persons of the Guard.

I loved the nuttiness of it and it didn’t even bother me that, then in its last days (it closes tomorrow, October 29) it was absolutely packed with people. It was all part of the fun.

One displayed quote particularly resonated with me:

‘Dress is a foolish thing; and yet it is a very foolish thing for a man not be well dressed,’ said Sir Philip Dormer Stanhope, 4^th Earl of Chesterfield, 1745.

That is exactly my opinion on the subject and why I can’t wait to take in the other five fashion exhibitions. I will report back.