Ludovic de Saint Sernin’s interpretation of Jean Paul Gaultier almost nails lust. Almost.
Clothing is intrinsically linked with human sensuality. A tool historically utilised to both embargo and embrace sexuality, our interaction with the fabrics we drape atop our bodies steers the physical experiences we have with others and ourselves. What we choose to, or not to, wear evokes extensive emotion forging sex into an inescapable motif that has anchored the work of fashion designers for centuries.
Ludovic de Saint Sernin’s SS25 couture outing for Jean Paul Gaultier was invariably going to rely on sex; after all, here is the ceremonious union of two designers renowned for their penchant for the raunchy. However, in an age where physical intimacy is markedly less of a taboo, the steps a designer must take to engage in provocation are perhaps less, well, overtly sexy.
The introduction of the “bumster” trouser by Alexander McQueen in the ‘90s shook the fashion industry to its very core. Pushing the frigid boundaries of a traditionally conservative business, the wee peek of a crack was a major source of dissent. The Jean Louis dress worn by Marilyn Monroe in 1962 engendered furore as it clutched to the figure of a woman whose desirability was the focus of much attention. Crystal-covered, the illusion was just that: a brazen wink to one's imagination. The eroticism at the heart of these examples is not what is seen. On the contrary, it is what is still hidden.
Jean Paul Gaultier has long appreciated carnal artistry, regularly referencing fetish and kink. So too has Ludovic de Saint Sernin, although a lack of subtlety has, at times, plagued his success. Through no fault of his own, it is clear Saint Sernin has developed during a glorious era of sexual freedom that has trickled its way to our clothing racks. Sheer red carpet gowns are an accepted norm, skin-tight silhouettes are commonplace, and the boundaries for what constitutes under/outerwear are forever shifting. To put it simply, we are in a golden age for self-determined style — and long may it endure.
This unconcealed nature permeated through Saint Sernin’s rendition of Jean Paul Gaultier, evoking little titillation. Much like his usual work, multiple looks bore the body in a blatant format. Be that as it may, he also managed to triumphantly assume what Gaultier, McQueen, Westwood, and many others, mastered — saying the loud part quietly.
A white, off-the-shoulder maxi gown is restrained to its model with rope, encasing the shoulder, ribcage, waist, hip, and thighs. Remove the rope and you are left with a respectful but bog-standard gown. The introduction and/or withdrawal of the bind does not skew the amount of skin presented. Instead, this constraint elicits questions about the character Saint Sernin has envisioned — most notably, is this confinement a source of pain or pleasure?
One look, a full-length, high-necked silver chainmail gown, is sheer to a moderate degree. However, Saint Sernin withdrew from displaying the entire details of his model's anatomy. Wherein other moments of this collection each curve, crevice, and crack is exposed, here, the crude curiosity of the crowd is captured, leaving us imploring for more.
Even in the most covered ensembles put forth by Saint Sernin, a sultry chemistry radiated along the runway as his cast of characters were emboldened by what they wore, their sexuality their own for themselves. It would seem Saint Sernin is finally discerning the vast breadth of human temptation — or he’s simply following Gaultier’s magnificent lead.
Clothing is foreplay in its own right, from tactile interactions to tantalising mental ruminations. The future of seductive style lies not in the transparent but in the suggestive. Show don’t tell, right? 🌀
Molly Elizabeth is a freelance fashion writer and commentator based in London.