Oh, cushioned jacket. The staple food of the children’s wardrobe reminded me of Ribena in a few days, and the zipper was pulled up by my mother angrily. The Out! The For! My! Chin! . Until recently, however, wearing a cushioned jacket to become an adult seemed unattractive. I mean, I really want to look like a Michelin man or b) volunteer: “can you hire these people in the off-season?”
But Vetements and Demna Gvasalia of Balenciaga refashioned the shirt. He picked up the staple food, blew it up, the pop art style, and turned it into a statement of overindulgence and consumerism. His cushioned jacket has infinite folds and smooth sides; They’re oversize and awkward. They look like something that might be found in a parallel universe that is upside down.
Part of Gvasalia’s genius was the fact that he turned daily staples into the largest element of the secular fashion season. It was so outrageous and so OTT that it seemed as if he had towed fashion: Missy Elliott met Pups marshmallows men.
But from the catwalk to the high street, the absurd feeling has gone. Go out in shape and smooth edges. The cushioned jacket barely changed, almost unchanged.
Wearing the red number in this picture, I felt like I was in a comfortable cloud. On the contrary, I am absolutely on earth. It’s very safe, very “let’s have a nice cream tea after a walk in this country.” I dreamed of surviving in Jeff Koons’ device, and I went back to the nuts of the may dimension: it was a little “functional” and “useful” to my liking.
The reality of wearing a jacket is that we are still stuck in the hands of adults, chewing cotton candy bars and being confused by the prospect of getting into the boat.
This jacket feels comfortable, safe – as tense as a hug. While the Sherpa and leather jackets have retained unshakeable illegal torture for years, the shirt jacket is still a wise aunt.