The eerie and mysterious wail of the bagpipes can stir a mix of unusual emotions. For those unfamiliar with the term “skirl,” it refers to the haunting and sometimes overwhelming sound these instruments produce. With their melancholic and reflective tones, bagpipes can be likened to the Bjork of the musical world—ethereal and capable of sparking both fascination and controversy. At the recent Dior resort show, set in the lush and precisely maintained gardens of Drummond Castle in Scotland, designer Maria Grazia Chiuri chose to feature the bagpipes prominently, starting and ending the event with their haunting notes. Even for a Scot who typically remains unaffected by their music, the performance unexpectedly and profoundly touched him. (Though when it comes to Bjork, there is no ambiguity: I absolutely adore her.)
Chiuri’s captivating collection was not only admired but also evoked a rich tapestry of emotions. By skillfully weaving together the venerable legacy of Dior with the romantic, dramatic, and sometimes turbulent history of Scotland, Chiuri crafted a profound impact that transcended mere appreciation. One prevailing feeling that stood out was desire, as the collection epitomized Chiuri’s distinctive style – garments that were deeply rooted in reality yet possessed an ethereal quality. Furthermore, Chiuri’s resort shows provide a valuable opportunity to witness how her designs truly complement the female form, serving as the ultimate test for any fashion brand. The Chiuri aesthetic exuded sophistication and effortless elegance, whether through tailored hourglass jackets, voluminous skirts, or the juxtaposition of chunky boots with delicate slingbacks adorned with dainty ribbons. This collection effortlessly flattered women of diverse ages, body shapes, and personalities, embodying a timeless allure that resonated with all who adorned themselves in her exquisite creations.
Chiuri set herself to work with everything sartorially associated with the country. “Scotland is an important reference in the fashion world,” she said at a preview the day before the show, “and I wanted to interpret it in a different way. For my generation, it’s so associated with punk, but there is another way to go into it, and that’s through the textiles. In fashion we concentrate so much on shape: But textiles are a big part of our job—what you can do with them, and the changes you can make through them.” So, Chiuri went to the traditional—the tartan and cashmeres, the tweeds and the Argyles—and deftly filtered them into a collection which variously drew on the geopolitics of fabrics, Mary Stuart (aka Mary Queen of Scots) and the way she gave political commentary through her embroideries, and yes, of course, vive le punk, so that it rocked with a defiant beauty—and an equally defiant energy. It felt uncompromising. But then maybe women can’t afford to be anything but that, especially now.
