Advertisement

Are Fashion Shows the New Music Videos?

Photo credit: Lanvin
Photo credit: Lanvin

From Esquire

Minus the odd Lady Gaga release in which she force feeds herself a diamond-encrusted Alsatian or whatever, music videos aren't really events anymore. MTV, the birthplace of modern music video culture as we know it, doesn't even really show music videos anymore. The internet killed the video star. And, as we hurtle ever deeper into the gluttonous bowels of YouTube monetisation, there's every reason to suspect that record labels are stacking high and selling cheap: green screens, fleeting moments of moral outrage, lots of product placement for a Dubai-adjacent whiskey brand and so on. A-Ha's "Take On Me" is turning in its rotoscopic grave.

But the Sturm und Glam of the pre-Vevo era hasn't been lost entirely. It's just moved industries. Yesterday, Lanvin, one of the oldest fashion houses still in operation, debuted its co-ed collection digitally – as have most of its contemporaries during the ongoing pandemic – and it was a departure that pushed a serious brand that makes serious clothes into pure party-party-then-after-party hours.

Over the course of three minutes and 20 seconds, a cackle of models storm a ritzy hotel (an actual hotel! No green screen!), trouncing across its pearlescent floors to do very Noughties teen comedy things like party in suites, and wear sunglasses at night, and spin around with lots of designer shopping bags. Gwen Stefani's seminal 2004 hit "Rich Girl" rings out. The No Doubt front woman's nasal operatics scored a top 10 hit by stitching a layer of fluff and PVC to an aged song from the musical Fiddler On The Roof. It still slaps, to be honest.

Reckless hedonism has been put on ice by Covid-19 – but Lanvin's A/W '21 showing wasn't just a tribute to the incoming night out, nor was it merely sampling the back catalogue of a pop star who now makes a living by judging The Voice. Instead, it paid direct homage to Stefani's Love Angel Music Baby album, with rapper Eve, the former tsarina of DMX's Ruff Ryders, reprising her memorable verse on "Rich Girl" with an appearance in Lanvin's presentation (performing via Facetime from the back of a limo, naturally). This was not a rehash, but a reboot.

There were other nods to the shared Eve and Stefani archive. Rather than opt for the quad bikes of 2001's "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" – the first crossover between both artists – the Lanvin models drag race around a ballroom in miniature Range Rovers. As in the original video, a Ferrero Rocher establishment is stormed by enfants terrible. There's even a comedy skit (remember those?) with Paris-based Israeli actor Tom Mercier playing an overrun jobsworth behind front desk. The golden age of MTV lives again in Lanvin. The collection notes even directly reference the hallowed channel.

Creative director Bruno Sialelli isn't alone. His release was in the same vein as Casablanca, the Liberace-tinged upstart from Pigalle alum Charaf Tajer. In its mixing pot of clinking champagne glasses and rippling silk shirts, the hi-vis theatrics of a Collin Tilley music video were lensed in soft Seventies focus for a lethargic rager in Monte Carlo. Virgil Abloh, the man behind Louis Vuitton's menswear, has long melded music and fashion to create his own unique brand. The most recent digital release for A/W '21 was no exception as Yasiin Bey (better known as Mos Def) debuted a number of new tracks.

Photo credit: Louis Vuitton, Casablanca
Photo credit: Louis Vuitton, Casablanca

Because, ultimately, big fashion brands have something most music video directors don't: budget. Even in the Eighties heyday of MTV, music videos never really earned the channel all that much cash – former 'VJ' Adam Curry said as much to CNET back in 2011. Turns out boarding up eight New Jersey turbo tanners was far cheaper, and far more lucrative. The high fantasy aspiration of modern pop music quickly gave way to Teen Mom and yet another sorry tale of someone falling in love with a digital marionette off Facebook.

These days, music videos only make cash if they clock up millions of YouTube views, which explains why so many directors are contracting in the booming K-pop market. What's more, budgets have been trimmed further in an industry beset by cancelled gigs and stadium tours – the main rainmaker of most big names. So, fashion has inadvertently stepped in, and it makes for a natural conduit to sell that high fantasy aspiration upon which modern pop music once thrived. We wanted to party with Gwen Stefani and Eve in a five-star hotel; less so in a plain white studio with a few lights beamed onto the wall. What's more, fashion and music have always been happy bedfellows. This continuation makes sense. It keeps the live action jukebox alive.

Borrowing from the nouveau rich history of MTV makes sense also. With the fashion week schedule irreversibly changed forever, it's a sound alternative to do it the Lanvin way. When you're seated on third row stuck behind a Mexican wave of flashing iPhones, it's perhaps a preferable one, too.

Like this article? Sign up to our newsletter to get more delivered straight to your inbox

SIGN UP

Need some positivity right now? Subscribe to Esquire now for a hit of style, fitness, culture and advice from the experts

SUBSCRIBE

You Might Also Like