Quiet, Referenced, Weird, Familiar: Dior by Jonathan Anderson

At long last we’ve gotten J-W-A’s D-I-O-R. And as per usual, he’s given us all something to chew on.

If Anderson is anything, he’s witty. This first collection at Dior was no different. It was the deep breath you take in before the starting gun fires. It was reverent of the brands storied history while still reflective of Anderson’s personal styling and design proclivities.

Here, Anderson designs people more than he does clothes. These garments are storied, realized and belong to someone very real and very chic. For those who love a comparison, it’s the optimists Enfants Riches Déprimés. At long last, the springy, French garçon has a sartorial champion.

In Anderson’s Dior we find an upper crust teen flirting with fashion for the first time. Digging through the attic of his family’s summer home, throwing on a cape over his slouchy jeans, searching through grandfather’s library for a book to carry around all season but never crack, begrudgingly wearing a tie to family outings but refusing to don cuff links, and all the while dancing shirtless down the halls in his dad’s overcoat and old cravat.

Personally I never connected with the Loewe man. I appreciated him, I got drinks with him, I flirted with him, but ultimately I never took him home. The Dior boy on the other hand, we grew up together. We played pretend and dress up. He’s nostalgia, boyhood, a family friend.

I look forward to seeing how Anderson will continue to translate and interpret the codes and history of Dior into his own creative world.