A white mini dress, hand-stitched with ostrich feathers, was mounted on the wall at a preview of Bora Aksu’s spring collection. The designer said it was among a handful of garments he retrieved from his late mother’s estate, which he has slowly been cataloging in the wake of her unexpected passing earlier this year. “She always had impeccable style,” he said, combing through racks of polka dots and pearls in his showroom. “But she also refused to throw anything out.” Hundreds of cardboard boxes provided the requisite material for a heartfelt tribute, which Aksu this morning presented in the lush, sun-dappled gardens of St. Paul’s Church in Covent Garden. “She would have liked it there,” he said.
The designer’s mother, Birsen, had been an ambient presence throughout much of Aksu’s work—she in fact crocheted a couple of pieces for his early collections, and the wonderful fussiness of her personal wardrobe can be mapped across each and every ruffle, bow embellishment, and Peter Pan collar he’s ever put into production—but this season he was more explicit in his homage. Knitted twin sets, boho skirts and jacquard sweater vests recalled the years she spent making her own clothes while practicing medicine in a remote Turkish town; pencil skirts and vintage lace blazers spoke to a woman determined to resist the role of housewife; and weightless silk tulle gowns in pale pinks and creams revealed the softer side of this loving matriarch.
Aksu added that his mother was often happiest when pottering about the garden, and a series of prints were based on the dahlias in her own backyard, while floral appliqués were pressed between the delicate layers of silk chiffon dresses. “There comes a point when you’re expected to move on with life,” the designer said. “But I’ve experienced a more profound grief as time has progressed because the memories I once had are beginning to fade.” This season’s collection was an exercise in remembrance that included the Jubilee roses encircling St Paul’s. On a recce of the venue, Aksu told a groundskeeper that his mother used to whisper to her roses to encourage growth, and she promised not to shrub them until the show had wrapped. They were still in full bloom this morning.
