Azzedine Alaïa’s Love Letter to New York
By Devon Lee
Footsteps echoed softly through a muted gray expanse, where shadows deepened and colors faded—a landscape stripped to its very essence, a tender love letter to New York.
On the second floor of the Brant Foundation, Pieter Mulier’s Winter/Spring 25 collection took its station, fresh from its debut at the Guggenheim. This private viewing marks a historic moment for the maison, reflecting Azzedine Alaïa’s eternal connection to New York.
Some dresses mirrored the Guggenheim’s sculptural form, fabric entwining around models like living sculptures, curving and spiraling in a maternal embrace. Each garment whispered stories of the space itself, woven into the fabric of art and design, reflecting the same dance that debuted decades ago.
“A celebration of an American ideology of dress,” Mulier proclaimed, “a spirit that unites New York and Paris, the body in motion, liberated.”
This collection stood as a testament to the essence of urban design, inspired by Alaïa’s deep admiration for New York women—embodiments of freedom and sophistication. Mulier proclaims, “a spirit that unites New York and Paris,” yet I find myself hesitant to agree. Whether we acknowledge it or not, the world is in constant flux, and the female spirit that once held New York and Paris together has waned, overshadowed by a growing tendency to overlook models as individuals.
Alaïa believed deeply that women are the true architects of fashion and art. “I work for women,” he often stated, reminding the fashion world that his creations transcended mere embellishment. His designs celebrated the female form, enhancing beauty and dignity in every curve, meaning the art he practiced could only be complete with the identity of the model. Models were not merely a canvas for the clothes; they became an integral part of the garments themselves.
While each piece crafted by Mulier captured the vibrancy of the city and showcased his exquisite craftsmanship, it fell short in expressing Alaïa’s profound appreciation for women as individuals, rather than merely as vessels of art. The private viewing of the collection at the Brant Museum struggled to convey this legacy, as the clothes cannot speak for themselves.
As I wandered through the gallery, surrounded by the adorned mannequins, a sense of absence lingered. It was only after ascending what felt like a million stairs that I stumbled upon a nearly vacant room, where Andy Warhol’s exclusive black-and-white portraits of Alaïa breathed life and meaning into the silence. These images, captured in a fleeting moment, evoked an aching nostalgia.
Silent echoes of something that once was captured in time.
Curated by New York-based interior designer Martin Brûlé, “Alaïa In Warhol’s Eyes” showcased a selection of rare prints, offering a tribute to Alaïa’s unwavering love for New York through the lens of its own pop culture icon. In each photograph, a model smiled widely as she strutted through the corridors of Bergdorf Goodman during Alaïa’s inaugural New York show in 1982.
The gallery space was awash in stark light, shifting like memories that fade and return. The raw simplicity of the photographs, much like the collection itself, carried a profound meaning that echoed with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
Of what New York used to be.
In a quick snapshot, Azzedine wore a subtle smile beside Warhol and Iman, a quiet reflection of their shared artistry.
As I viewed Pieter Mulier’s collection, I realized it was not just Alaïa’s love letter to New York, but perhaps his bittersweet farewell—a poignant reminder of a world rich in memories, longing, and the echoes of a vibrant past.