ByBent Van Looy
Growing up in Antwerp often twists one’s views on fashion.
This has nothing to do with the masses of shoppers in fancy jackets you see at the weekend, dragging themselves from Groenplaats, in the center of Antwerp, towards the Majestic Centraal Station, where they will board their trains back to the suburbs, carrying plastic bags full of purchases from Primark and Zara.
One can blame Antwerp’s glorious Golden Century (sixteenth, if you must know), when the city amassed great wealth, trading, among other things, the finest fabrics and woven fabrics in the world.
But no, the reason we Antwerpians grew up with the idea that high fashion is as common as bus stops or pigeon droppings is the Royal Academy of Fine Arts – a crumbling block of historic buildings in the heart of the city, where many up-and-comers walk under the arch that marks the border between the sculpture park and the Academy’s main garden.
In 1886, a young hopeful was seen on his way out, turned away from the power of traditional education. His name was Vincent Van Gogh.
A century later, six students of the newly established fashion department pass through the same arch, albeit with a slight defeat. After completing four years of training, this small group of young men and women were ready to spread their wings and conquer the world.
It’s 1986, and a bunch of talented people have decided to show their work at the British Designer Show in London. Because their names – Ann Demeulemeester, Dirk Van Saene, Marina Yee, Dries Van Noten, Walter Van Beirendonck and Dirk Bikkembergs (above, from left to right) – seem to unite the language, their work appears under the moniker ‘The Antwerp Six’. They, along with their ideas and rational designs, became conscious.
Since then, fashion students from all over the world have flocked to The Six’s alma mater, hoping to soak up the magic fashion juice. They can be seen, on their way to school, like glittering goldfish in a sea of cod. I used to stop to stare at them when I was growing up on the streets of Antwerp in the mid 99’s.
Wearing avant-garde designer clothes or a crazy combination of classic and exotic creations, often unusual, these fashion students blew my mind with how they dared to stand out from the crowd. They, like the Antwerp Six and other amazing designers who followed in their footsteps, opened a window to what was possible for me.
But, when we think about what we see on the runway, let’s say, Dries Van Noten’s men’s show, we often forget that much of what is shown (flamboyance, drama, explosion of color) is rooted in traditional codes and sewing techniques.
Van Noten (who I interviewed in 2017, above) grew up in a menswear family. His grandfather began by sayingtourneur(a person who sorted out second-hand clothes, restored them and resold them), before producing his own fabrics and opening a menswear store in Antwerp, a business that was eventually taken over and expanded by Dries’ father, Hubert. Van Noten Couture, as their Kammenstraat store was called, sold classic fare like Zegna or Ferragamo.
As a young boy, Dries (Dries, Raf, Ralph – we all seem to go by the first name with these guys) used to accompany his parents on shopping trips to Italy, where he took in the intricacies of the trade in showrooms in Milan and Florence.
Dissatisfied with the prospects of traditional work and the direct continuation of tradition, Dries flourished at the Academy. Inspired by the art, craft and unique courage of his classmates, he emerged as someone who does not see these traditions and techniques as an end goal, but as a means to an end.
To what end? To explore the things that moved and inspired him. Yes, Van Noten and the other six learned the ropes on the walls of the Academy, but they also discovered that these signs were there to be used, sometimes abused, to be stretched and beaten again.
Their imagination took us on a journey through art history, just look at Dries Van Noten’s S/S 2001 collection, a colorful and linear evocation of David Hockney (above); and texts, see Ann Demeulemeester’s S/S 07 exhibition, a dynamic homage to Rimbaud’s poetry; or other abstract ideas such as Walter Van Beirendonck’s play that shows optimism with cartoons, ethnic elements and BDSM codes.
Sound crazy? Maybe. Mr. Van Noten may be the first to disparage my lofty opinion; of the six, he is perhaps the most focused on the commercial reality that gave birth to him. As he said in an interview with The Talks: “We don’t do couture; we do prêt-à-porter. And I’m firmly committed to that.”
A love of strong, wearable pieces, cut for years, shines through in everything Dries does.
I remember seeing him standing in front of MoMu in Antwerp, waiting for his 2015Inspirationshow to open, and impressed by the elegant simplicity of his personal style: a navy merino sweater and wide but slightly tapered chinos topped with white tennis shoes. Over the years she has refined her look – centered on British country chic and Ivy (like the brightly colored blazer she wore in the Antwerp Six promotional photos in 1986) – to reflect sophistication and timeless elegance.
That respect for tradition was also prominent in Van Noten’s F/W 17 men’s show, where the logos and labels of Fox Brothers, Lovat and Marling & Evans were extended and emblazoned on sweaters and jacket fabrics, paying homage to the companies that had supplied him with material over the decades.
Whatever the dream theme, the vocabulary of classic tailoring acts as a beacon in any Antwerp Six collection, always looking up to guide us through the turbulent seas of the designers’ longest imagination.
Take the suit above from one of Van Noten’s last collections (S/S 24) before he retires in June 2024. Long considered a master of color, his combination of biscuit brown and deep wine red is elegant and approachable. And the fabric will appeal to most PS readers: a slubby, silk herringbone very similar to the fabric of the otherSimon’s most popular jackets.
Even a futurist and outsider like Walter Van Beirendonck understands the design of a classic suit. I was given one of his blazers to wear when I was performing on stage; tartan fabric with a structured shoulder – I could have sworn it was cut by a Savile Row tailor, if it weren’t for the portholes on the front, back and sleeves.
Foreign? Of course. I chose to see them as holes in the playful soul of their creator. Or really: the windows look as far as possible.
Bent Van Looy is a writer, artist and artist based in Antwerp.
Antwerp Six’s 40th anniversary kicks off at Antwerp’s MoMu on March 28.