You can’t tell me what to do you’re not my granddaughter shirt

 By this shirt here: You can’t tell me what to do you’re not my granddaughter shirt

Calvin Luo is missing the You can’t tell me what to do you’re not my granddaughter shirt but in fact I love this real thing. For fall 2021, his 10th collection, he was hoping to present an in-person show in Shanghai, but the constantly changing restrictions made it impossible. To evoke the togetherness and drama of physical shows, he presented fall in three parts: runway, backstage, and front row. The first two required a photographer and videographer to capture models wearing his latest collection. The latter proved more ambitious: Over the course of three months, Luo sent his collection to 100 women, from musician Yaoke Zhao to model Cici Xiang, and asked that they style themselves in the garments and pose for photos that would be rendered into a virtual front row. The fact that 100 women would even agree to such a project—and that each looks comfortable and like herself in Luo’s clothing—is a testament to both his strength as a designer and his warmth as a collaborator and friend. As for the garments, they are some of Luo’s strongest. He gave up flashy complications and a strict theme in favor of rethinking signatures from his five years in business. Proper jackets with metal fastenings are worn with pleated midiskirts; organza camp shirts with embroidered orange blurs are paired with chic long shorts; and double-strap tanks are layered with plaid A-line skirts. Even at its most playful—yes, there are dramatic feather gowns—the collection speaks to a tasteful reservedness. The small flecks of joy, like a color-blocked rose and green jacket or the feathers that trim a pastel pink skirtsuit, feel in step with the mood of early 2021: cautiously optimistic. Luo is smart to deliver something not too over the top but still with simple pleasures.“It was important to keep this experience live—to have the specific adrenaline of a show,” Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski was saying last night as the final fittings for the Hermès collection were being finished in Paris. In a logistical feat of timing on the morrow, she was—without a single sign of nerves—about to launch a rolling livestreamed series of Hermès happenings on three continents. Opening with a dance performance choreographed by Madeline Hollander in New York, it cut to the fashion show in Paris with models and Vanhee-Cybulski-–who gave a wave in an Hermès-orange face mask—and finally hopscotched to Shanghai for the second dance piece, directed by Gu Jiani in front of a live audience. In today’s unfolding of events, Vanhee-Cybulski’s ambitious plan to defy physical distance worked seamlessly. “It’s urgent now to live again,” she said. “The message to the world is that I have this conviction of designing clothes for a confident woman. It was about resilience.” Pandemic be damned, she’d resolved to give the traditional rite of the Paris Fashion Week runway show its due (since there’s nothing more vital than upholding Hermès tradition), while also reaching out to touch audiences who can’t travel. For Vanhee-Cybulski, the point in collaborating with two women choreographers was to place the creative female gaze center-stage: “Each of them has her own way of expressing female power,” she said.

You can’t tell me what to do you’re not my granddaughter shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt

Madeline Hollander’s piece observed forward-motion and gestures of women walking in New York. Gu Jiani’s was an athletically intense conceptual fusion of Chinese dance tradition and western ballroom dancing. The unifying presence of the You can’t tell me what to do you’re not my granddaughter shirt but in fact I love this house of Hermès was signaled in the sets—orange drapes in New York; stacks of orange boxes landscaped into the Paris set; orange boxes integrated into the performance in China. A ‘making of’ documentary by the French director Sebastien Lifshitz detailed the weeks of planning across locations and time-zones. As world-spanning as all this brand-projection was, it had started with Vanhee-Cybulski working alone. “It was quite a shock at the beginning, because I always work with so much interaction with others, and I’m barely at home,” she said. “I was sitting at my desk, asking, How can I reinvent what I know? And actually, it was very productive.” She began by thinking about how to combine an outgoing ‘Amazonian’ confidence with sensitivity to the times, “turning a new page. A reset. That paradox of wanting to be protected, and wanting to draw the body in dresses which are second-skin and airy.”