How I take your fetus on the catwalk

In London, the diploma collections – daring, eccentric, sometimes even phantasmagoric – of the students BA Fashion by Central Saint Martins, one of the most prestigious fashion and design schools in the world. She also attended it Alexander McQueen, just to name one that indelibly marked the customs and culture of the last century. Today studying there is Rocco Ritchie, son of Madonna. Which attended the students’ final essay in the front row to support their creativity and to channel the attention of the media on their debut on the catwalk.

Among the many, willing new graduates, here is also Amanda Colares Silva, author of the creation certainly, by far, the most provocative. But perhaps even more questionable.

On the platform a model with a blue puff skirt, pink top, ballerina shoes, and above all a voluminous one hemisphere of transparent plexiglass on the belly, inside which makes a fine show of itself thereto hyperrealistic reproduction of a fetus.

Now, that theexhibition (in the term there is no judgment of merit: this is a fact) of the maternity is a topic of curious topicality, even on the most glamorous red carpets – the last 9 months of Rihanna they say a lot, as do the apparitions of Adriana Lima in Cannes – it is evident (and the question itself deserves careful reflection).

And so too is the celebration of his false staging – I am thinking of a glorious Loredana Bertè in Sanremo in 1986, but also of a perfect Lady Gaga emulating her 25 years later – still and always, on average, arouse a thread of widespread indignation. In this case, however, one wonders what could have pushed an aspiring stylist to really play all out with such a gimmick.

The simple and pure will of to be talked about, a priori and regardless? Oscar Wilde – “as long as we talk about it” – would approve. The natural propensity to generate a satisfying (for her, evidently) sense of shock in the souls of others? The claim of originality at any cost (in which case we have to disillusion you, because many pancioni – real or simulated – have been seen on the catwalks over the years, as the gallery below clearly demonstrates)? That’s all?

Or is there, perhaps, a deeper message behind, a thought, a story, a reflection? It is a collection of clothes that do not pretend to be worn, but rather want to push the viewer to set their brains in motion … or want to share a memory … or even spark social discussion and political debate on a topic very precise, which at the moment however escapes us? Or did the designer simply want to celebrate a moment of universal beauty of the female body? Or life in making her? All hypotheses.

Here, even if there was something of it, Amanda has lost the priceless and perhaps even somewhat unrepeatable opportunity to tell us about it. And it seems a shame for her. Dozens of other graduates like her eager for attention, hundreds of looks, pop stars in the front row, multimedia over-information on the show, on the school, on everything that goes around it: the hypothetical reflection – admitted and not allowed – vanishes in the fog. She disappears. She dissolves. She does not find any ears willing to listen to it, nor synapses ready to process it. A sound that is dominated by the noise around.

Amanda, ahilei, is in danger of staying “That of the fetus”. At this point – an unsolicited piece of advice, but which we feel we can give to a young creative who is now entering the fashion industry stage – perhaps it would not have been better to simply be “The one of that wonderfully crazy dress I’d wear right away?”.