Appiolaza, who has a vivid memory of those eruptive years, has brought a similar bravado to his Moschino work, which has been receiving praise for the way he has delivered a smart and witty take on the founder’s legacy. He points to his white jacket with a 1,000-lira print on the back below the embroidered words “Money Doesn’t Make the World Go Around.” Nearby is the Italian-flag-themed gown from a 1994 Moschino collection, a starting point for Appiolaza’s debut. “My version deconstructed the top part and created a feeling of draping the flag into the dress to get a little bit more of a dynamic look—I always try to bend things, but you still recognize the original.” Franco’s famous 1988 black bra dress, meanwhile, was transformed, in Appiolaza’s hands, into a chic cocktail dress.
Along the way, he’s also played with some of Moschino’s sacred archetypes: The famous tubino dress, for example, an elegant sheath that Franco used as a billboard for provocative ideas. “We closed the last show with a series of deconstructed tubinos,” Appiolaza says. “I wanted this juxtaposition of something very simple with something from a different era.” Or Franco’s military-style survival jacket from 1991, with each pocket containing a beauty product instead of a weapon. He laughs as I open a nail polish bottle stuffed in one of the pockets and sniff the vintage chemicals. “I did a version that was about surviving in the city,” he says, showing me his creation, which features pockets filled with pens, notebooks, reading glasses.
Then something else catches my eye: the fabulous plastic-bag dress from 1994, my absolute favorite piece—and one that Appiolaza will revisit for his upcoming collection. “Moschino used real trash bags—he was asking, ‘What is luxury?’ I wanted to play with the idea of luxury—it’s not just about the most beautiful fabric; it’s how you wear things, how things are made.”
Growing up in Buenos Aires, Appiolaza’s first references for fashion—and his first models—were his mother, his grandmother, and his aunt, though by his teens he began to dream of rupture. He and his friends were into the British music of the ’80s and early ’90s—Depeche Mode, the Cure, the Smiths, Happy Mondays. “I dreamed of moving to London to be part of the scene there,” Appiolaza remembers, and as soon as he came of age, he abandoned both his studies and his job at an insurance company and flew over, speaking little English, with no job and no plan. Through London’s vibrant club scene, he became friendly with Nicola Formichetti and then Kim Jones, who encouraged him to apply to Central Saint Martins, and the rest is history: He was soon working at Alexander McQueen, Miu Miu, Louis Vuitton, Chloé, and most recently, Loewe.
