Riccardo Tisci Unveils His All-Encompassing Vision For Burberry Resort

It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new story both for me and for Burberry,” smiled Riccardo Tisci of his Burberry debut late last year. “I want to sustain the heritage, but I also want to go with the time, with modernity.” What he has achieved in the eight months since he presented his first collection has been testament to the fact: British tradition (pussy bow blouses and beige skirt suits) positioned against new-gen attire (sports jackets and tracksuits). But where those categories have been formally segregated until now – referred to by the terms “ladies and gentlemen” versus “boys and girls” and, last season, with each given their own distinct showspaces – for his Resort collection, Tisci has begun to blur the divide.

So – octopus-print bodycon dresses are worn underneath old money faux furs; traditional Fairisle knits transformed into boyish shorts; the Gen Z staple, the bumbag, appears in ladylike printed snakeskin. In homage to Tisci's long-lauded spirit of inclusivity, there's the introduction of a rather brilliantly-conceived new print: a graffiti scribble which has evolved from the sanctioned scrawlings of customers which decorate one of the walls at the Bond Street flagship (it's writ large across everything from puffers to thigh-highs).

There are plenty of the accessories that he has already made desirable (it’s certainly an achievement to have created such appealing leather goods within such a short timeframe; the bread-and-butter of luxury fashion houses is traditionally found in a good handbag and he’s offering plenty), an abundance of the Thomas Burberry monogram, the codification of his key house styles (tailoring and corsetry alongside a wealth of beige outerwear). But, most importantly, there appears a more relaxed, integrated confidence to the world Tisci is presenting.

It is no small feat to overhaul a brand like Burberry - a publicly-owned company where every fluctuation can quickly become headline news, and which has become emblematic of British culture – but, 14 months after being announced its Chief Creative Officer, Tisci is clearly settling in. The strict delineation between the codes of dress he has fetishised is becoming more porous, more realistic, and more nuanced in its appeal. While there was no question that the perverse propriety he first presented was severely covetable – or that the slip dresses pierced with barbells, or the micro-mini leather skirts, have since become catnip for teenagers across the globe – it was something of a pastiche of a divided Britain.

Following a literally divided AW19 fashion show, where half of his audience sat in a bourgeois theatre and the rest in scaffolded brutalism, one journalist asked for an explanation as to the two-part staging. “The models walked through both,” shrugged Tisci. That feels like a astute point to make about the situation we’re experiencing right now: whatever state this country is going to end up in, we’re all going to have to struggle along in it (or out of it) together – the boys and the girls, the ladies and the gents. Now, the idea that we don't require such entirely separate wardrobes, or that we can borrow from each other and subvert the strata, seems to be seeping in, too.

But, besides the political messaging that is, of course, going to be applied to any house proclaiming a vision of Britishness in the current climate, Tisci is also evolving his wonderful world of eveningwear. This month’s Met Gala, the first chance for him to flex that muscle, showed that he’s as good on the red carpet as he’s ever been: that he can drape Irina Shayk in midnight blue velvet with ease, or deck Naomi Scott in crystal chainmail with dazzling effect. His slinky jersey gowns ought quickly find Burberry appealing to a new demographic, one likely immune to the crisis looming. Now, there are multiple reasons to feel jealous of that sort.