When you read it, you’d think you could hear the laughter of the mutinous-cool Candide cascading over the little world of fashion, having enough fun, and at every moment, so as not to give in to oneself – but only to ‘enthusiasm. Loïc Prigent managed to write a “true fashion story» – such is the subtitle of the little red book which appears on Wednesday – which resembles it. They don’t take themselves seriously. As a prologue, he begins with the beginning of his own history with fashion: the feeling of imposture “so big that it becomes an artistic performance » who, in 1997, during his first Saint Laurent fashion show, captured the young Breton who had just arrived from Plouescat.
His difference thus established, he can let his prose jump singularly from the crinoline to the aigrettes via the hat and the turn. Does the latter mean nothing to you? Follow the Prigent guide. “The dress that replaces the crinoline simply takes the excess material that was on the front and logically pushes it towards the back. We obtain a new volume which exaggerates the buttock, and as this fashion comes from Paris, we call it the “Paris ass”, or more soberly the shape. This dress, symbol of the Third Republic, gives the curious impression that the woman is leaning forward, in the posture of a monkey about to launch into a roll. . »
Fashion: sporty but still chic
Irony without malice
The book does not contain photos. A choice of the editor, Charles Dantzig. It must be said that Prigent’s pen knows how to do it, which tells the outfits as one tells a story, happily interweaving the description – without resorting to color adjectives please, that would be too easy, Prigent forbids it – and the anecdotes. There “turn” is taking shape before our eyes. “As a small pouf, a mass of horsehair is grafted onto the buttocks, like a snail or a horse’s rump, he writes. Or maybe it’s a small whale cage. Little girls are forced to wear this like their mothers. Sometimes, another mass is created on the stomach, to give an effect of pregnancy, therefore of fertility, yes it is strange but if it were not strange it would not be fashionable. »
A Thousand Billion Ribbons – The True History of Fashion, by Loïc Prigent, is published by Grasset. (Credits: LTD)
Popularizing without vulgarity, ironizing without malice, that is the Prigent signature. Who is fond of semantic inventiveness: “an immensely rich class which private hotel will»,«when we go out, we shade »,« the new enrichocracy » ,etc. If some licenses are happier than others, with each line our author manages to communicate his pleasure of playing. With the images, too, where he takes care of the shift and lightness. On the “turn”, it gives: “ The desired effect is undoubtedly that of a tulip in mourning, but it more resembles a rhododendron in growth crisis. » That’s when we hear his laughter. For real this time. He apologizes for arriving two minutes late at the bistro where he arranged to meet us before leaving to run the shows, fashion week obliges. He is not seated when he is already talking to us about “crowds not possible » (sic) waiting outside.
« The screaming outside, I love it. I find it super cute, there is a childish side, Beatles, excitement… They know the names of everyone, Netflix actresses of course, but also Amazon actresses, Apple TV actresses… Afterwards being the same three pilgrims at Michel Drucker for a hundred and fifty years, it’s good that there is now a diversity of offer. Two days ago at Chloé’s, there was Charli D’Amelio, the American tiktoker with 156 million subscribers, I went to see her.. . » A lisp watches him. How does he continue to be amazed? “I love it! I take it as an incredible privilege. It’s really cool to grow old in fashion.. »
Fashion: the year of the Medusa
Tenderness for the outsiders
The other day, when the American designer Rick Owens, whom he considers admirable, told him that he watches a 1925 horror film without sound every morning while brushing his teeth, he asked him what toothpaste he used. The side step, again and again. “If you don’t like them, you don’t stay. You have to love them and not be familiar with them. You don’t have to understand them 100%.. » Does this mean that it would not be serious, and perhaps even better, not to completely understand this horror film story from 1925? He barely lets us get to the bottom of this question.
« But I completely understand! I completely understand how it can inspire you, put you in an aesthetic and mental bubble that will protect you from the assaults of reality…! » Oh? So understanding does not prevent one from making a profession of not understanding? He laughs, caresses his stubble. His manner really seems sincere. “It would be hypocritical to still claim to be a double agent. By rubbing myself in the middle, I am less of a free electron. I’m very proud of my very electric debut, but we have to soften otherwise we go crazy . »
He nonetheless retains a tenderness for the outsiders. In this first volume, he thus presents the man he makes his central character: Charles Frederick Worth, “the father of French haute couture », the inventor of cycles of perpetual maintenance of desire. “Like all the ogres and ogresses in this area, he is an outsider, because he is not Parisian but English. »,writes Prigent, fascinated. He confirms: “Worth has a magic melon, the real designer melon that I love! » His intonations do not renounce ingenuity. “My candor is true… This morning I said to myself: “You’re still naive.” This is what ruins me and saves me…” What ? Fossilization? “Yes ! I definitely don’t want to fossilize myself! »He pulls himself together, always afraid of offending, of offending. “I have nothing against fossils…» We hear each ellipsis. “Don’t make me say things that aren’t nice to people. Fossils interest me as much as daisies which only bloom for one day.. » Would he think he was a daisy? He laughs. “At the beginning, I refused codes, I wore colors, checked shirts, there was even a moment when I layered checks… Now my wardrobe is getting darker.» He points to his t-shirt – black… -, his corduroy pants – black black -, his sneakers – black black black.
Well, there is the shirt, also in corduroy, the color of his eyes – the Breton sea in bad weather. And the socks that save the honor of color: white with scarlet streaks. “I always dress badly! I made it all velvet, oh redneck, it’s not 1,000 stripes, it’s 2,000 stripes, it’s not pretty, not controlled. And then there is always a leftover tartan lying around...” He shows the large plaid checks of the mustard coat that he took off when he arrived. What he did not remove was the cap, eternally screwed on his head. At first, it was his look as a young man, less to resemble a Playmobil than in the name of “the American spirit »,as he says. And now ? He touches it. “Should I take it off?» he asks. “I like…» He takes it off, saying this, and he laughs. His hand fiddles with his hair, he is embarrassed to be exposed. It suits him well, though. And then 51 is a good age to no longer hide, right? “I’m really shy. My grandfathers, my godfather and my father always wore the cap. They will bury us in caps, the Prigents! It’s a Breton thing! »
Stella McCartney, early activist for ecological and cruelty-free fashion
Is it a Breton thing to order “a green tea »,like he did a few minutes earlier? “During the fashion shows, I don’t drink, I don’t go out, I’m in bed before midnight… The sequence of fashion shows is extremely intense, it’s as if you were all the time in airports catching planes, with customs and security checks, and you enter different countries every two hours, so you have to be very in control of yourself, have a sense of humor and not be on edge… Like a Zen monk.» In any case, he has the ascetic slimness…
In the book he teases the virtue which, he writes, “is only nice when new and you get tired of it quickly ».In life, he follows the virtuous prescriptions of the time. “I haven’t eaten meat for two or three years, I still eat fish, but I could stop, I should actually stop… I’m all for living the times to the fullest. I listen to the times. I recently learned that we should avoid using the words “madness”, “crazy”, “insane”, “delusional” for anything other than mental illness, and this is the preferred lexical field of fashion. .. Leaving this minefield forces me to question myself and invent something else. Instead of saying “that parade was crazy,” I say “vibrant.” This is a fantastic opportunity! In the same way, reassessing one’s judgment in the light of MeToo, in the light of ecology, in light of the rise of the far right, I am for it. We say “deconstruct”. I find it super interesting to deconstruct to build differently. This radicalism can sometimes hurt but it’s not bad to listen to it. It is a good antidote to fossilization. »Definitely!
Excerpt – On the beginnings of Worth
The future great fashion designer is developing a strategy to establish himself. The year is 1853. He needs the stem cell that will give the whole Court a fever, the acute crinolinitis that will make his fortune. His wife spots and bribes a chambermaid at the Austrian embassy, rue de Grenelle, so that she shows an album of sketches of her creations to Pauline de Metternich, a great fashion consumer whose
the boldness is received with circumspection by the Court. She is a fashion addict, an aesthete and a frivolous person. She is not that beautiful but a laughing mouth and white teeth, a piercingly intelligent eye, a posture of the head and a confident gait make her seductive. […] When Prince Metternich, the charismatic Austrian ambassador, comes to kiss Empress Eugénie, he is eclipsed by his overdressed wife. Dazzling virginal crinoline, a galaxy of silver stars that can be seen behind a veil in a very successful blur effect. The belt is studded with diamonds from Princess Metternich’s personal collection. Lala talks about it in her Memoirs:“I wore my Worth dress and I have to say… I didn’t have never seen a more beautiful outfit… This one was made of white tulle, dotted with tiny silver discs and lined with daisies with a purple heart. The Empress had barely entered the throne room that she immediately noticed my dress, recognizing at a glance the work of a master’s hand. »Amazement and jealousy, Empress Eugénie loses her composure when she sees this treasure. […] Metternich recounts with a hoarse voice live from the depths of her grave:“She immediately asked me who had done this dress so wonderfully pretty in its simplicity and elegance: “An Englishman, Madam, a star who rises to the firmament of fashion! -And what is his name? -Worth. – Well, replied the empress, that the star has satellites, I ask you to make it tell me to come to my house tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
