Even before Marie Luneder’s show started, we were treated to a show. In the cavernous grandeur from the middle of the century of the Palais am Funkturm, Lueder had a set of three go-ga-gargantuan silver inflatable venus-flytraps made by the Danish artist Esben Weile Kjaer, threatening with their enormous vicious teeth, but also a bit of cartoon-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a playful, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, a play-like, one-like, one-like, a play-like, one-like, a play-like, one-like, a play-like and play. engagement. In the meantime, in the shadow of these huge inflatables, a young woman, dressed in a brown stocking dress with selvedge seams and UGG slippers, before they collapse and are picked up on the shoulders of a fake-like figure dressed in a Gazy Second-skin dress and UGG boots.
That meant the beginning of the show, which made its way through some of the very best leederisms of the designer: thick graphic ribbed sweaters; replacement utilitarian freight pants and shorts; Filmy Short Dresses à la the 90s; Reinforced faded jeans traced with an overcendant circular seam; And a series of Upcycled Vintage Death Metal Cut-Up and Collageed T-pieces with more confused creatures in the form of dragons. All this exists on a spiritual and aesthetic level between grim Keep-it-Real Berlin and equally grim and also stored-real London. (I have not randomly selected those cities in brackets;
But in a sense, the LUeder show was about more than herself and her vision of fashion. That is not a Diss, but a tacit recognition that Luder not only welcomed a little help from her friends, but it is something she was quickly on during her backstage interview. Luder has, as she always does, embrace the support and contribution of the community. “We all wanted to work together, this insane group,” she said laughing. ‘[The show] was about this question we had: what is the runway and what is performance, what is acting? “Her models, including creatives such as Ruby Commey and Luisa Gaffron, led by motion director David Varhegyi, encouraged a sense of expressiveness to everyone who has followed the show. [sung by Roman Ole, with sound by Oscar Khan] Was in three moments – the morning, the battle and the conclusion, which was fairly light, “said Leeder.” I was backstage listening for that last moment and I felt almost sad, “she started to say before she broke into a smile.” It was a long show, but I hoped it felt the audience something. “
Lueder’s work remains intriguing because of her willingness to find an emotion in what she does, and how she presents it – and to encourage those who keep an eye on her shows to do the same. If she was brilliantly in sexual politics last season – her slogan tee, Men are back– was a brilliant piece of corrosive social commentary at a time when the story was that we need more, no less patriarchy, Yes. This time the messages were compelling; The Dragon theme, visually clear on the T -pieces and in the movements of the models with a number of unseen forces, was about face and overcoming those who control and suppress you. Lueder has called the SLɐy collection in a suitable way.