Tartan arrived in shredded, deconstructed form, interrupting the meditations on black with a jolt of pattern, followed by white gowns that trailed in strips, ethereal yet raw. Foliage-like bands traced torsos like abstract vines. Finally, red emerged in sculptural coats — a flourish of drama that underlined his instinct for subtle spectacle.
At 81, Yamamoto has long resisted fashion’s cycles. He is still the master of deconstruction: puzzle-piece coats, layered bustles, and Cubist geometries have defined his decades of work. Here, though, he leaned into simplicity, echoing his recent shows where fragility and empowerment are in balance, and where black becomes a multidimensional canvas.
The staging was hushed, the models’ slow stride amplifying the sense of timelessness. In an era of constant reinvention, Yamamoto’s refusal to chase novelty reads as radical. His clothes remain unmistakably his: esoteric, emotional, and enduringly chic.