The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
The overlap between the Oscars and Paris Fashion Week was magnified by Sarah Burton's collection for Alexander McQueen. With her moody, theatrically tinged presentations, matched by clothes worthy of an epic film period production, Burton could hold her own on the Dolby theatre stage with any top film costumer today. Though she frequently dabbles in futurism, this season Burton went back a couple of centuries to the cold, deserted English countryside. Her runway convincingly reproduced an early morning highland, replete with rocks and bumpy tufts of moss. At first we could barely make out the women who marched out in black astrakhan coats and capes trimmed in fox, their silhouettes barely perceptible against the early morning dark sky. And then, slowly, with everything illuminated, tiers of crisp white eyelet cotton were sharply defined on voluminous dresses. Burton worked a number of Victorian codes, from rich velvet devoré that flounced on skirts, to tightly-wound braiding that took on a punkish twist on the model's corn rowed heads. But she also threw in the savage side of living on the open plains, covering her models with enough long-haired, striped fur to evoke a pack of ferocious wolves. At this point the models wore black fox eyebrows and stomped through the grounds with their all-purpose flat boots, just before things took a romantic turn. Burton finished with a transparent lace gown finale that was every bit as poetic and heart tugging as the end of Wuthering Heights.
Photography: Jason Lloyd-Evans
