The name’s Ford, Tom Ford. Down under and into the Bowery Street Subway Station. This was a collection for the original born and raised New Yorkers, who are on the move, slinking swiftly through the streets and underground’s of NYC. It was a collection that began, for Mr Ford, with a photograph of Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick coming out of a manhole cover in 1965 that felt so New York to him, going on to note Luc Besson’s ‘Subway’, the YSL Lalanne breastplates in 1969 and a photo of Jeff Koons polished steel bunny. Yes, we like a mood board. They walked with all that Tom Ford sinuous grace in silk jersey that rippled just right, hands in pockets of big-pleated skirts and mini ‘running shorts’ that Ford said was a ‘return to luxurious sportswear’ paired with barely there bodysuits. But don’t take sportswear literally – the Tom Ford girl ain’t wearing sneakers, she’s in shimmering metallic heels. If 007 is a girl, this is her uniform. Shirts were fitted and tucked into belted, slick trousers and into knee high boots with practical handbags in tow. The men wore leather motorcycle jackets and gleaming leopard printed neon jackets. “This season for me is about simplicity,” he said. “Which is not to be confused with simple.” This was good, classic Tom Ford.
by Roxy Lola