Date 10.11.2017

SHE HAS 99 NAMES: Karim Adduchi’s new woman

Amsterdam’s confusing schedule notoriously increases values, successfully pulling in fashion’s entire best crowd. Wednesday evening was Karim Adduchi’s (b.1988 Imzouren, Morocco) yearly gathering, taking place just before the local dining time. The painter, illustrator, and fashion designer orchestrated his third couture show and displayed crafted gowns for a diverse audience.

The ceremony at De Duif church was adorned with the same mysticism with which he graduated from the Gerrit Rietveld Academie in 2015. The first look was a vocal offering by Karima El Falali accompanied by Abderrahim Semlali on the violin, playing the traditional tarab music. We did not have to scramble for our phones to grab the moment and share it instantly, as we usually do. Rather, we just had to listen as deeply as the church’s neo-classicist vaults.

One question that came to my mind was whether or not churches are the most appropriate venue for a show that demands full observation and contemplation. I believe they are, and for one reason or another it all worked out and the behavior of the audience matched the spirit of the designer who has clearly moved forward into his next calling– the autochthonous arts.

It all felt truly suitable for a story that fluctuated from beginning until end. The work revolved passionately around nomad women in current contemporary times that have felt at times outside their country’s borders searching for a cultural exile. Sometimes, folklore disagrees with liberation on the runway and clashes, but the way the body’s curves negotiated played an enormous role. Sixteen hands from Syria, Russia and Eritrea were in charge of the manual artworks, and from the second look onwards, open backs in pleated dresses showed how considerable the torso was for the designer– most embellishments sought to empower the upper part of the garments. But seduction never tipped to danger, but instead focused on a tiny dress with side carpet fringes imposing the erotics of beauty. Physical, yet still far away from the obscene.

And that is precisely where there is haute: in the freedom and dynamic that women will use to insert themselves into any social context, regardless of language or the local time. Adduchi owns a creative soul and dares to play with it brilliantly. What other stimulant would women want to couture with?