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Comme des Garçons SHIRT: The delusion remains intact

Have you seen the Comme des Garçons SHIRT x Futura collection? Take a look. Would you wear it?

When it comes to Comme des Garçons I know I’m indoctrinated. Since the earliest collections in the 80s, I’ve happily convinced myself that Comme is it. The most important and radical brand of my lifetime. For me, cool begins and ends with Comme.

I’m so throughly self-programmed that I can overlook the genericism of PLAY sneakers and CDG, the tatty, logo-daubed yard sale. And when faced with the Comme des Garçons SHIRT x Futura collection, I may roll my eyes, but my delusion remains intact.

It’s tempting for viewers of the recent Netflix documentary The Social Dilemma to assume such brainwashing is a recent, digital phenomenon. But the right brands have always had such power.

I guess that’s why I’m spotlighting this shirt. The Futura pieces may not be for me, but I’m compelled to find something in every Comme collection that is.

So what we’ve got here is regulation office stripes with a woolly front. Not exactly radical these days. But perhaps just the right amount of Comme to be comfortable. I remember during the time of the original Comme store on Brook Street, one of the staff told me that they sold more simple navy blazers than anything else. And it always made total sense. People wanted to buy into the brand, but in a way that didn’t make them feel ridiculous.

Comme shirts are always so damn crispy. Although I’ve no idea how you’d go about washing a shirt of light cotton and dark wool. It’s an unsettling proposition. Particularly at a price point so absurd I’m ashamed to even discuss it.

The spread collar is strong, I’m liking the brown check and while I prefer a square hem on a shirt like this, I’d overlook it, it’s Comme after all.

It’s odd to be fully aware of your blinkered infatuation with a brand, yet be perfectly content to let it continue.

I met Rei Kawakubo once. As a student at The London College of Fashion I gatecrashed the Comme fragrance launch at Liberty. She was there, standing in the corner — tiny, angular bob, biker jacket. I went over, shook her hand and told her I was a huge fan. She gave a half-smile and said, “thank you.” And here I am talking about it 26 years later.

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