The Tamesis
Well, I don’t even know where to begin with the Richert Beil show, the latest creation from the brand designed by creative and life partners Jale Richert and Michele Beil. This is probably one of the weirdest shows I’ve ever seen – in a good way – and lord knows I’ve seen some. Maybe it’s best to start at the beginning and send an email a few days in advance asking about dietary restrictions (no meat please) and clothing sizes (I’m tall, so, um, XL?). The camera cuts to the show venue, the newly built Richert Beil store in Berlin’s Kreuzberg district. On a cold night, the two sides of the show venue are filled with chairs and small swing tables. The tablecloths are clean and the seat numbers are clear. (I am number 51.)
The menu is simple yet elegant, four courses in small sizes, prepared by their good friend, a chef named Chehub: The Rolls (vegan sushi hand rolls; not bad); The Pillow (a piece of red pepper wrapped in a crispy, papery little wrapper; delicious); The Shot (brothy, served by my seatmate Tim Blanks) Blanks (I’m told with some authority; not my favorite); and finally there’s the “egg,” which is the size of an ostrich and comes with a pair of worryingly large surgical forceps. There was a small hole in the egg, and I used tweezers to remove it…a pair of black lace panties, size XL. “Eat?” Tim asked me. All the while, as waiters dispensed these micro-lessons in ballet-like movements, new collections emerged, with models weaving in and out, and very well, too.
Richert Beil is a brand that makes creative, clever but very believable clothes, mostly in black, that have only gotten better in the few seasons I’ve seen their shows. The new collection plays to the designers’ strengths: the imaginative and slightly perverse approach to tailoring they love while still rooted in their classic heritage, from jackets with button-fastened panels to trousers sewn to mimic the lines of lingerie, the way latex they love to fit and drape like fine silk, and all the clever ideas they put around shirting. It turns out that waiters are also modeling the new collection: there are striped black tunics that mimic chefs’ clothes, and white shirts with elegant folded lines that echo the way people in the kitchen hurriedly throw towels over their shoulders.
They told me backstage after the show that the best look was the first to come out, from their first collection, which was a reimagining of a dreamy black coat with Bavarian gilt embroidery typical of southern Germany, and an accordion pleated back. They designed it as a skirt, almost in an Edwardian style, with a hem and train, but then paired it with the most common white cotton vest. “The idea was that someone had just come out of the kitchen and they were looking a little dirty, so they just wrapped the coat around them to give this couture look,” Bell said.
However, the idea of hosting a dinner during the show was born out of this desire to bring people together in the most basic of human ways; something tangible, everyday, communal; it’s an almost primal ritual. It also comes from Richert Beil’s belief in opposing the unstoppable trend of artificial intelligence and the virtual world driven by likes; to make fashion rooted in the material, until it comes from the heart. “We were thinking, ‘What does the future look like?'” Bell said. “What’s irreplaceable?” Well, for one thing, getting together for dinner. They say that for them, getting into fashion was never about performance but about creating something real and lasting. “Everything becomes, how fast can you scale and how much can you produce,” Richert said. So, here’s their response: Take your time, do it slowly. Even better when you can get something to eat too.
