Rick Owens On His Anti-Voracious S/S'22 Men’s Show In Venice

On a FaceTime from the Lido, Rick Owens had just finished a rehearsal for his fourth and final show on the Venetian beach, drones hovering above his head and fountains going off in the sea. “People in their cabanas don’t know what the fuck is going on. We just did a music rehearsal and the music is like this aggressive dubstep by Mochipet. It’s bonkers. It’s super loud. And they want their money back,” he said with a smile, adding how he’d gifted each of the cabana holders an engraved keyring as an apology in advance. Owens has been based in his Lido apartment during the pandemic, in close proximity to his Concordia factories, trying to embrace the limitations of the moment.

Now that the world is opening up, he is wary of the gluttony our return to consumer and travel culture might propel. His feelings informed a sensitive men’s collection embodied by softness: Owens’s proposal, both materially and figuratively, for a post-pandemic approach to life and freedom. Voluminous bell-bottoms were paired with open shirts over bare torsos, evoking what Owens called “a Led Zeppelin glamour wanker” energy “that isn’t overly status-seeking”. Big, transparent, billowing silhouettes felt ceremonious and zen. It was a reminder to take things slow, and not throw ourselves into excess and greed just because we can. From his own cabana on the beach, he told Anders Christian Madsen about his hopes for the near future.

What does this show mean to you?

This is our fourth and last show here, and it has been such a positive and beautiful experience. We were able to meet adversity beautifully, head-on, with this quartet of shows in the Lido. We all enjoyed this new way of working together. We learned how to do something beautiful with reduced resources. It was a lesson about humility, which is what this collection is about.

A post-pandemic humility?

In the New York Times they’re talking about “revenge travel”: now that people are going to be “released”, they’re going to throw themselves into consuming even more. The whole point was that we were supposed to learn from this lesson, but I feel like people are going to be even more voracious.

How are you expressing that?

This collection is about embracing hedonism because, of course, I had the chance to embrace all the hedonism I wanted to. I wouldn’t want this generation not to have that, but I feel like I want to be soft: I want people to take care of themselves, and not go too far, and consider responsibility. We can be hedonistic and indulge, but let’s try to keep it soft and nice.

Is it a conscious collection?

I’m not a goody-two-shoes. I’m learning about consciousness and responsibility, too. Remember, this is coming from a 60-year-old perspective. I got to be 30 and satisfy every appetite I had. I don’t think anybody should deprive themselves, it’s just that after all this pent-up energy having been suppressed, having it reversed just seems a tiny bit dangerous. More dangerous than excess is in the first place. I’m a little bit leery.

Do these human desires frustrate you?

No, because then I think, what is the point of life? What is the pursuit of academic knowledge in comparison to the pursuit of being a complete libertine? Why is one better than the other? There is an honesty to the simplicity of just pursuing pleasure that is the point of life. Why take yourself so seriously? Life isn’t that complicated. There are certain fundamental things that make life pretty dumb: we all die, we haven’t figured a way to make our shit not stink; life has some very dumb elements that we can’t avoid. Pleasure-seeking is one of the things we’re supposed to do, so I don’t disapprove. But there’s a balance.

What are the portable smoke machines you’re using in this show?

We have three sizes, and they’re custom fog machines for this collection. One size fits into the pockets of our platforms so you can have a fog machine in the boot. Another is a handheld size that you can carry with you. The other is a big size, kind of like a speaker case that you can also use as a coffee table. Don’t you want a fog machine coffee table?

More than anything. What does fog mean to you?

Fog has become my logo. I use it a lot. It’s a simple, dumb gesture, and I like a simple, dumb gesture. It has ambiguity to it. It stretches all the way from doing poppers in a disco basement in the middle of the night to incense in a church. It brings a sense of magic and mysticism to the occasion, and it’s false. It’s theatre. But that’s good enough. That kind of artifice can be a tool towards religion and group events, it can heighten the sense of wonder and it can elevate a moment. It can be an artificial stimulation but it can actually help get you there. It can alter your mood to… open to your heart to magic. Oh, that’s nice!

Finally, the show features a collaboration with the artist Swampgod, a local artist you’ve befriended on the Lido

Yes, he chops up clothes and puts them back together, and he’s doing that with some of my deadstock, which seems like a good idea. He comes to my factory and works in the corner with his little sewing machine.

So, you’re not the only unicorn living on the Lido?

No. And I suspect there might be others.