Death is a deeply personal yet equalizing and unifying experience. The act of mourning has the power to bring people together, turning even the most agnostic into spiritual partakers.
It was this idea that intrigued Oude Waag’s Jingwei Yin this season. A Buddhist, Yin had never experienced a Christian funeral until the death of a member of his partner’s family. “I was shocked by the spiritual energy,” the designer said, “I had never experienced something like that because in China people avoid talking about death and funerals.” Yin found the experience positive for its capacity to fuel connection between people. This became the crux of his collection, though rather than mortality it was the cultural perspective on death that became his fascination.
The proceedings unfolded and concluded with a procession of black dresses. Rather than set a somber tone, the first styles synthesized Yin’s singular brand of sensuality and his light but precise cut. A bouncy bubble hemmed LBD was a sure commercial hit, but the closing looks were the most special: Breezy chiffons and delicate, weightless of jerseys were shirred diagonally across the body or ruched into panels held together by metallic accents. One of these frocks was worn under a cropped jacket whose lapels unfurled from the body and criss-crossed before meeting at the back of the neck. Another had a veil flowing from the S-shaped diagonal seam across its front bodice and wrapping around the model’s head (the headcover a not to Christian funeral garb); the style that followed was cut in vertical chiffon panels that all ran through silver beads (in reference to the way royalty in China would be wrapped in jade stones upon death). A deceptively simple black maxi dress was knitted to contour the body with its swirling ribbed lines (somewhat like Egyptian sarcophagus carvings), and a final cropped jacket imitated the gathering from elsewhere in the collection in lieu of a lapel.
Yin’s design language would lend itself well Western celebrities (stylists, time to make some calls). His revealing cuts balance both steaminess and glamour. Yet the real development in this collection was seeing the designer take his preoccupation with the body past merely uncovering it. His meticulously made bodysuits would surely do well sold as novelty bathing suits, but consider the way Yin used twists and ease to drape unconventional volume into his silhouettes: The waist of a skirt was cut wide to collapse into itself so it appeared roomier, and jackets and bodices were knotted at the center to add frisson and weight to otherwise minimal styles.
Runway presentations here in Shanghai can often feature too many looks or feel imbalanced between what’s made for the show and what’s meant to be commercial. It’s Yin’s reliance on his technical skill rather than hefty narratives or gimmicks that make him a standout, and what rendered this show a celebration rather than a wake.
