While many can’t think of Chloé without throwing back to its floaty boho roots in the early 1970s, Chemena Kamali is using Chloé’s open remit to push the house’s identity further afield
Chemena Kamali’s revitalisation of Chloé is interesting because it’s anything but homogenous. After all, what does Chloé actually stand for? In reality, tantalisingly nothing – there is no Chloé, it’s a name chosen for no reason other than the fact its founder, Gaby Aghion, liked the way its curvilinear lines looked. Which gives you the room to invent anew. While many can’t think of Chloé without throwing back to its floaty boho roots in the early 1970s – roots which have, admittedly, been dug up time and time again by different creative directors, hence seeming so ubiquitous – Kamali is using Chloé’s open remit to push the house’s identity further afield. Take this oddball ‘Tropicus’ minaudière: executed in hand-painted leather, it recalls the couture quality craft that former creative director Karl Lagerfeld brought to the house in the 1970s. It also quotes his own taste for Surrealist follies – one of his last Chloé collections famously had beaded shower heads spurting beads down the back of dresses, and spanners and hammers rafted into outré jewellery. And he used prints of wildlife often – so too did Stella McCartney (eagles and horses) and Phoebe Philo (monkeys). “Frivolity is important,” Lagerfeld once told reporters backstage. It evidently is for Kamali’s Chloé too, which embraces history while simultaneously making its own.
The Chloé Tropicus swan minaudière is available to buy here.
