Issue link: https://www.balharbourdigital.com/i/1532915
Something fresh was afoot at the storied French luxury brand, the incubator of such talents as Karl Lagerfeld, Stella McCartney, Hannah MacGibbon, Clare Waight Keller, and Phoebe Philo (Kamali worked under the latter two at the house, early in her career). But it was one indelible image that emerged from her debut show's favorable coverage—Kamali's toddler son running toward her during her bow, both of their hair flying into a big Brancusi-worthy knot—that introduced an archetype we haven't had at the head of a brand in a while: The Mother. The image painted by Kamali's clothes, so far, harkens back to the celebratory sense of liberty that resonated through the 1970s for women after the landmarks of Roe v Wade and Title IX. Kamali's designs are filled with the rebellious spirit of pioneers like the late artist Paula Modersohn- Becker, believed to be the first woman to paint herself nude and pregnant, and 1920s provocateur Marie Laurencin, who unapologetically almost never depicted men in her work, showcasing women in gauzy, confection- like settings. The house DNA is echoed as well through capes and frills—ruffles echoed across dresses and separates alike (especially Kamali's blouses). And there is no shyness about the body: fully sheer numbers aplenty—a theme that continued into the Spring/Summer 2025 collection, where lace ruled in a sundrenched palette of white, pastels, and various nudes. Boldly titled "The Freedom Collection," Kamali's latest Spring/Summer show carried on the optimism carved out in her first. The vibes called to mind the paintings of Laurencin and Brittany Murphy's whimsically iconic wardrobe as the babysitter in the early-aughts flick Uptown Girls, which immortalized a certain kind of bohemian ideal of effortless layering of romantic staples. It would be easy to picture Kamali's silk bubble-hemmed dresses in Murphy's fictional closet. In fact, the entire collection strikes balletic notes, as did the runway show's glowing gridded backdrop, which was reminiscent of the set for Glass Pieces (1983), choreographer Jerome Robbins's canonical tribute to Philip Glass. Far from the sobriety of quiet luxury, Kamali is staking out a space for an unapologetic girly-girl who knows her history. Nods to the designers who have come before her: Philo's minimalist economy; McCartney's rock, romance, and playful pop references (especially this season); and Lagerfeld's power dressing—particularly from 1977—are all masterfully interwoven into Kamali's work at Chloé. This is what makes her new tenure so compelling: unlike many, she's not attempting to rewrite Chloé's story in her name—although she did introduce nameplate belts in her own handwriting script. Instead, Kamali is walking us through the story of the brand while adapting the vision set forth in 1952 by its founder Gaby Aghion, the late Egyptian-French designer who pioneered Kamali's debut collection for Chloé was a celebration of boho chic. "I wanted to capture that longing for summer… that fantasy moment when you reconnect with yourself. When you pause, escape, explore, discover, and recharge." — CHEMENA K A M A LI BALHAR B O U RSH O P S .CO M ; B UYI N G I N D E X , PAG E 20 4