It was held in a Danish church adjacent to Regent’s Park in London and felt like a wedding. There was a double explosion of pink confetti at the end, and a ribboned vintage Mercedes convertible parked on the gravel outside. The last look was a prettily bridal-appropriate white broderie anglaise dress, and a 20-strong cohort of close-to-angels from the Capital Children’s Choir sang “Good Vibrations” by The Beach Boys. It was rather lovely. But who was wedding whom?
According to Chung—who said with semi-ironic satisfaction afterwards, mid-Camel Light, that she had a tantrum when the looks didn’t come out speedily enough—the union was that of her and her brand. Chung is a shockingly beautiful woman of scatter-dash, hilarious, and self-deprecating mien who has become famous for wearing clothes compellingly. But those were other people’s clothes. This was the see-now buy-now fruit of a multi-millionaire-backed bid (led by Peter Dubens) to parlay Chung’s currency into CURRENCY.
The result, season one, had undoubted value. A denim heavy opening section contrasted frayed jeans and midi skirts with sweats featuring an illustration of George Harrison by Alexa’s charming dad Phil. The font of the opening Screw You sweatshirt was based on the T-shirts sold by her friend Tennessee’s activist hub in New York, The Deep End Club. Against that tomboyishness Chung articulated some capital-G girliness via tiered ruffle dresses in ditzy florals, a mysterious deb’s delight hooded floral frock, and a sleeveless biker minidress. The inclusion of striped dungarees over pie-crust collar shirt was almost Alexa dressing as she perceived the perception of Alexa should be dressed: She told me in an interview for Italian Vogue a few weeks ago that she introduced certain pieces to this first collection, “so as not to disappoint the writers of articles predicting what it was I would make.”
According to Chung—who said with semi-ironic satisfaction afterwards, mid-Camel Light, that she had a tantrum when the looks didn’t come out speedily enough—the union was that of her and her brand. Chung is a shockingly beautiful woman of scatter-dash, hilarious, and self-deprecating mien who has become famous for wearing clothes compellingly. But those were other people’s clothes. This was the see-now buy-now fruit of a multi-millionaire-backed bid (led by Peter Dubens) to parlay Chung’s currency into CURRENCY.
The result, season one, had undoubted value. A denim heavy opening section contrasted frayed jeans and midi skirts with sweats featuring an illustration of George Harrison by Alexa’s charming dad Phil. The font of the opening Screw You sweatshirt was based on the T-shirts sold by her friend Tennessee’s activist hub in New York, The Deep End Club. Against that tomboyishness Chung articulated some capital-G girliness via tiered ruffle dresses in ditzy florals, a mysterious deb’s delight hooded floral frock, and a sleeveless biker minidress. The inclusion of striped dungarees over pie-crust collar shirt was almost Alexa dressing as she perceived the perception of Alexa should be dressed: She told me in an interview for Italian Vogue a few weeks ago that she introduced certain pieces to this first collection, “so as not to disappoint the writers of articles predicting what it was I would make.”
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