I was devastated at the loss of Lee Alexander McQueen, so I will never fully accept Sarah Burton. She’s very good but she’s not a dreamer like Lee was. I like her collections generally but I’m not rolling around on the floor weeping over the poetry in motion. I’ll just get that bag of worms out of the way. It’s how I feel and how I will always feel. You just cannot go from “Highland Rape” controversy to well executed and pretty.
Anyway, I did like this season. It’s dreamy, pretty, and reminds me of a modern John William Waterhouse dream. Or maybe something from the pages of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman (a little Delirium, a little Lady Death). Being a naked princess is next to godliness and this collection delivered it. Although, I think butterflies are cliché. Burton, according to Vogue, described her woman as: “Almost sleepwalking, in a state where reality and dreams become blurred.”
Between the Savile Row-quality tailoring of some mannish suits and the final dresses made up of nothing more than a dream…she got a little closer to the original McQueen mark.