“Enigmatic at most.”
Those are the words that come to mind when thinking about designer Aitor Throup. For someone whose been said to inevitably rise and stand in the same ranks as Martin Margiela and Hussein Chalayan, I can’t help but feel underwhelmed, both, at how little there is to hear about him, and how rare it is to be able to chance upon any of his work.
In a retail sense, Mr. Throup is about as elusive as a unicorn. Having had only two collaborations that ever made it for sale, it’s a large mystery for me, even larger than where to get his clothes, where all his praise is coming from. I understand that there are the fan boys like me, but then in fashion? Being in possibly one of the most pretentious industries to participate in, he hasn’t only been praised, but validated by not only his peers, but increasingly, the established.
Without having the majority of his work up for mass consumption, how is he garnering all this success? It’s something I’m having a hard time understanding, nit picking, not entirely too sure at what formula he applies. Largely because I’ve this hunch that it’s the exact opposite of the model I, and my a lot of my contemporaries have been taught, and programmed to live by. The “shit ain’t shit, unless its for shit sale” mindset that has us living in compromise perhaps might not and based on his example, should not always apply.
The idea that “talent is enough” appeals to me. That genuine talent, need not be marketed, reconstituted into something that would have to give the impression of, or imply that. Though most often proven otherwise, It’s what I think the rare case is with Mr. Throup.
The film on top is part of his A/W 08 collection, The Funeral of New Orleans. The pieces shown drew inspiration from the events that took place on Monday, August 29, 2005; it was the day Hurricane Katrina made landfall in New Orleans. As the levees broke way to a surge of water, that day and the weeks that followed dealt not only a material damage to the people of New Orleans, but took its very essence, the musical, and cultural heritage that so heavily defined it.
The collection tells the story of resilience, a New Orleans’ funeral marching band fighting for survival not only for themselves, but the instruments that etched their lives. Garment transformation used more often for theatrics, in this situation, seems natural. Brought about by the need not just to simply survive, but to continue holding on to a way of life.
Looking at the pieces, I run through the gears that I usually do when looking at Mr. Throup’s work. There’s the initial curiosity, followed by amazement, then later, settling into a generous mix of disappointment and awe.
Grown up on comic books, and Final Fantasy games, I’ve this natural affinity to like anything that has villainous standing collars. That, plus the first application of the broad shoulder that I have ever liked, crossed with the functional concept behind the clothes, its a tough idea to swallow, that this video and these photos are about as close to these suits as I, or be it, anyone will ever get.
In wake of this collection, in place of the empty-handed feeling, comes, better yet, a greater understanding. It being an incredible exercise of talent, there, in the video above and the photos below, lie all the answer to the questions of how, and why.
Dedication to an idea. Commitment, without compromise. The formula works, and just like Mr. Throup, don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.
