On stage, there’s a backdrop of rugged limestone mountain rising behind meadows and farmhouses.
Off stage, garments are hung on clotheslines that stretch across the hall. It’s hard to tell models from guests until one of them unpins and releases a pair of leg warmers from the line, and starts changing into a new look. She meanders through the space, full of photographers and onlookers, and makes her way to the stage in a sweet cardigan with a misbuttoned gingham placket, teamed up with a pair of denim shorts and the aforementioned leg warmers pulled high on bare legs. Then, repeat: she heads down, sheds the previous look, and assembles the next one with garments suspended in the air among other objects: polaroids of models donning looks from the collection in various bucolic settings and even fat, salt-encrusted pretzels.