“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful?” The query was taken from snow white and the seven dwarfshas left the realm of animation and reappeared in print, online (HotorNot) and on dating apps. The implicit understanding is that fairness is judged through the male gaze. Avavav’s Beate Karlsson flipped the script at her fall show, as guests walked the runway flanked by female models. “The idea of having models as guests,” she explained over the phone, was to focus on the female gaze, which she feels is disproportionately recognized in an industry that caters primarily to women.
Imitation of Christ used a similar strategy back in 2001, but focused on the roles of model and critic. At Avavav, Carlson turned to thinking about the apotheosis and vulnerability of models on fashion shows. As a soundtrack, she compiled clips of male designers talking about their designs for women.
Karlsson, who herself favors slightly androgynous and gothic looks, drew on her own style and experience dressing men or going out with female friends when designing her fall collection, which was tighter than some of her past collections. Less because it’s focused solely on women’s clothing, mostly because there’s more, a deeper focus on fewer ideas. The iconic chest pattern is reimagined in many ways—printed, slit, embroidered. The tights were paired with heels and the brand’s unique finger shoes. The bulbous shape of the Larva bag was effectively transformed into a bubble skirt that felt like a distant cousin to the wire dish skirts left over from spring.
Overall, there’s a tomboy vibe to this look, with ties everywhere. One of them is built into the top, while others are tied with a pretty bow at the neck. New pieces from Karlsson’s ongoing collaboration with Adidas reflect Avavav’s streetwear roots. The logo waistline of the underwear is exposed. It looks like a skirt made of undershirt, but it is actually a pair of culottes with an inverted U-shaped gusset sewn in the middle of the hem. (Carlson describes them as a cross between an A-line skirt and basketball shorts.) The designer said the elephant-leg pants had a “reworked internal structure that allowed them to collapse in a more almost fluid way.”
Wings, which looked like the sides of a miniskirt, flared from the hip of a pair of slim-fitting black pants; another pinstripe that blended into the skirt was a feat of pattern-making. This two-in-one feel complemented the more eccentric aspects of the collection, such as tissue-paper-filled bras and curved glasses. With the Schiaparelli exhibition opening at the V&A later this month, Surrealism will once again be a topic of conversation. Perhaps Carlson’s narrow fur-mohair chest strap is the equivalent of Meret Oppenheim’s fur-lined teacup. Regardless, the Swedish designer isn’t content with the status quo. “Especially when I was younger, when I was dressing for men or centered around men, [my approach] “I was just less personal, less confident, more like I was fitting into something,” Carlson said. “When I dress other women, somehow I just want to be more like a character, more unique and special.” By juxtaposing masculine and feminine tropes and discovering “interesting ways of shaping the body and silhouette,” Karlsson crafted a collection that brought together all of these qualities and more.


