There is space enough in fashion for mavericks. That’s one of the key takeaways from a long Zoom with Madrid-based Ernesto Naranjo, whose fall 2024 collection has a sharply cadenced poetry, where circles, squares, and rectangles stand in for words.
Naranjo has developed a sort of modular design system based on geometric shapes that he continually refines, using his spectacular sense of color and (new this season) fabric combinations to create novelty. His use of surface decoration is sparing. Having previously made use of fringe and handmade pom-pom net, for this collection the designer encased crystal chandelier drops (retrieved from a lamp found in a local Sunday market) in green-to-lilac ombre tulle. He also collaborated with the artist Maria Suja on magnetic jewelry. Note the triangular appendage, placed at nipple level, that adds an almost Cubist element to look 11.
This offering finds Naranjo, a graduate of Central Saint Martins who worked side-by-side with John Galliano at Maison Margiela, both within his comfort zone and pushing against it. The designer went to London and purchased his fall materials in the same shops he patronized as a student. The spree prompted him to use denim for the first time, and resulted in unexpected, yet felicitous, fabric match-ups like taffeta and cotton used for trench coats. He made two moodboards, one specifically for this season, and another using materials pulled from boxes from his degree work, and found them surprisingly complementary. “I was really happy with that,” he said. “I was like, ‘maybe I thought that I changed a lot, but I didn’t.’ ”
Well, yes and no. Naranjo, who is now teaching fashion at the same time as making it, has enfranchised his young interns. Allowing their often knee-jerk input has stopped the designer from overthinking and reminded him of Galliano’s feedback. “When I was working with John, he always told me that I was really brutal in the way I worked,” said Naranjo. Brutal as in more interested in form than decoration, and clear in vision. In fittings, the designer notes, “I usually take things off more than put things on.”
There’s certainly an essential aspect to Naranjo’s work, which is focused on silhouette. He cuts patterns so that sharp edges collapse into lush drapes. Not surprisingly, he says he’s a big fan of Halston’s work, and he also takes inspiration from Galliano’s spirit, Martin Margiela’s inventiveness, and the construction techniques of the Japanese school, all without being referential.
This offering does have a theme, but I’m almost loath to share it as the clothes don’t need a story imposed on them. The back story centers on showgirls, the interiors they exist in, the gazes they are subjected to, and the personas they create. But banish all thoughts of the Moulin Rouge and Elizabeth Berkeley from your mind; Naranjo was looking at Cindy Sherman’s transformations and interiors created by the Italian artist Nanda Vigo. Showgirl is a synonym for sexy in this context as the designer was exploring how to express that attribute in his own way, while also trying to shelter these colorful performers. He described the opening duvet coat as “protective,” referred to satin sheets (the bed can be seen as a safe haven of sorts), and made many of the “nude” looks with skin-tone mesh so they are not actually naked. Such innocent “deceptions” are typical of Naranjo’s work, which looks flat on the hanger and comes sparklingly alive on the body.
