For Spring 24, Jones was both creative and referential, establishing a collection that was an opulent melange of studied and meticulous menswear. He celebrated icons and legends of the past iterations of Dior through silhouettes from Yves Saint Laurent to Gianfranco Ferré and by bejewelling shirts, polos and jackets in homage to Christian Dior. The observations that stuck involved: first, the 5-inch tweed short high-hemmed trousers had sharp and protruding travelers creases that drew the eye down to an array of thick-soled loafers (inspired by the 1995 Lady Dior Bag); second, the hard-launched satchels and saddle and sandwich bags that burst out in various shapes and colors; third, that high notched collars are still cool; and fourth, the overcoats, shirts and jackets were fitted but had breathing room, not overdoing the oversized trend yet still allowing a non-sample-sized observer to think, “I could rock that.”
Luckily, the ever-harassing Dior Oblique pattern (introduced in 1967 by Marc Bohan) did not intrude upon the marvelously crafted tweed outerwear. Instead, the designs focused on fashion for fashion’s sake. Patterns flowed through a series of long double-breasted coats, their dropped shoulders featuring the omnipresent Dior cane (and rattan) and other textural patterns you might still see on some of Dior’s bags.
The metallic tweeds had a quilted texture that shimmered in the show’s steel surroundings. Neon shirts and polos grounded the collection in contemporaneity. At the same time, beanies cemented the ‘chic element’ with delicately velvet flower-garnished headwear by Stephen Jones (who also designed hats for John Galliano’s 1996 couture collection at Dior). While Jones’ efficient tailoring kept looks crisp and elegant, the British designer allowed Dior to also have a casual flair, with models strapped into a sock-and-sandals situation and draped by ‘grandma’s cardigan’ — but this was elevated. Embroidered rhinestones brought it up to ‘cool grandma’s cardigan’ status with more metallic tesselations of tweed and a great contrast of textures against the loose-neck safety of an orange polo.
There were a lot of cabochon jewels that studded many of the garments, but they were effective due to their intention. Jones isn’t trying to make life difficult when it comes to hopping out of an Uber or passing through a tight door. He’s showing us how a high-hemmed short can look great in tweed again, that fluro can work, and that if anyone asked you to ‘dress up,’ you could still wear slippers and get away with it — but I’d need a marled-knit Dior coat to match. And perhaps some white socks.
