On the evening of 28 September, Matières Fécales showed SS27 on Place de la République in Paris: 99 models of colour, 99 looks, and a finale of billionaire figures carried around the square. This page records how a show about the 99% handled the question of who stands on which side of the fence.
This is one page of the Observer Reports. I usually record how a minority carves out a room for itself, and who stands at the door. This time the room is Place de la République in Paris, a square anyone can normally walk into. On the evening of 28 September it was fenced.
I have put the original words of designers, reporters, critics and commenters into 01, and dropped none of them. What people inside said and what people outside read sit side by side. Whether the fence was a redundant security measure or the most honest part of the show, I leave open.
Numero’s Léa Zetlaoui recorded the show on 30 September. Matières Fécales’ SS27, titled “The Ninety-Nine Percent”, ran on the evening of 28 September at Place de la République: 99 models of colour in 99 looks, split into three acts called Family, Tribe and Gods, about 35 minutes in all. In the finale two models each carried a billionaire figure on their shoulders. Around 500 guests attended, Rihanna seated near Rick Owens.
There are two comparison lines. One sits on the brand: Salon’s CK Smith wrote on 9 August that the name was chosen to criticise fashion’s waste and consumption, and that the industry then took the label in, with pieces selling above a thousand dollars. The other sits on the square: Sound of Fashion’s Frédéric Fahy noted the site was fenced, passers-by watching across the barriers, guests inside.
Why today: between 29 September and 2 October the praise, the dislike and the dissections all arrived at once. The arguments keep landing on the same gap: a show about the 99% had to decide first who could walk inside the fence. Venue, upbringing and fence were read together in the same week. The gap is clearest now. Once the heat fades, few may remember where the fence stood.
I think it's perfect that the first-ever fashion show at Place de la République is being organised by a group of immigrants like us.
We put ourselves out to the whole world. We're not living in a bubble.
I was too punk for my family, too brown for my punk friends, and I couldn't relate to anyone around me.
Le spectacle parlait d'accès, mais son organisation devait contrôler les accès.
spoke of resistance and marginalization from behind a velvet rope
le conformisme culturel et idéologique a tenté de se déguiser en transgression progressiste
Fashion loves the image of rebellion, but only the kind of rebellion it can control
Quel nom de merde
Oh ! J'ignorais qu'une marque portait ce nom
Of the nine voices, three come from the designers, four from reporters and critics, two from commenters. The same square reads as a declaration to some and as a fence to others. Both readings stay. The designers speak about origins and position, the critics about entry and price, the commenters first about the name.
The gaps in this column: the two comments carry no platform or account, relayed by Yahoo Actualités from comments under a Loïc Prigent video. @insidethemood survives only as a half sentence quoted by nss. No first-hand posts from Reddit or X could be quoted in full. The column leans towards the press side; two comments are too small a volume to stand for ordinary viewers. Quotes stay in their original language.
The brand frames the show as speaking for people without a place. Bhaskaran told Fashion Times: “We spoke for a lot of people who don't have a voice in this arena, in this city, in this environment.” Part of sales goes to La Maison d'Allanah.
Most outlets read it as a declaration. Vanity Teen’s Ada Romeo wrote: “The weight of privilege is literally carried on the shoulders of those who sustain it.” The line between show and demonstration was read as deliberately blurred, and Rihanna’s suit soon had its own coverage.
nss’s Lorenzo Salamone reads something else: the message is so full that the design is covered over, 99 looks spread across several themes with none settled. The angle is still scattered and needs more reviews before it counts as a trend.
Virtus Magazine’s Nicola Ievola writes: “parlare ai dimenticati attraverso abiti destinati ai più ricchi”. The same piece notes a women’s leather blazer at €4,400. Price becomes the hardest evidence behind this criticism, and this record has no brand response yet.
The protest ground changed hands. Place de la République is long a site of demonstrations and gatherings; this time a fashion show borrowed it, organised by a group of immigrants. The place stayed the same. The rules of entry changed.
The finale image is blunt: models carrying billionaire figures, eyes covered with banknotes. Some read satire, some read declaration, and some commenters tripped on the brand name first.
The assumption that a brand criticising fashion stands outside fashion. From the name to the front row, Matières Fécales already sits in that room, while the name keeps its tone of criticism. Does that position still hold?
To be heard, and to be seen. An upbringing caught between family and the punk scene is enlarged into 99 people. The show seems to look for a place that someone caught in between can fill.
Passers-by hold up phones across the fence. The square splits in two: those inside watch the show, those outside watch those inside. This layering of looking seems to grow common in shows on public ground.
Will the next show on public space count the people outside the barriers in its attendance? If it does, does the 99% finally get an entrance? The phones outside may already count.
These six themes are the frame INCODER checks every cultural signal against, closer to a pair of glasses. Put them on and the same event grows a different meaning.
99, 99%, 99 looks: one number serves as title, headcount and social ratio, repeated three times. A simple number travels fast. Do the details outside the number get dropped with it?
The finale figures have faces and banknote-covered eyes, like a reposted satirical image walking straight into reality. Once the image has been cut into many versions online, what sits on the shoulders: a person, or a meme?
The name, the fence, the banknotes, the statue at the centre each carry their own meaning and their own history. With all of them in one picture, which symbol gets the last word?
Monstrous make-up, face spikes and blood-red eyes grew at the edge and now stand in a big square. That sharpness once relied on distance. Does an edge moved to the centre keep its sharpness?
Rihanna, Rick Owens, some 500 guests, and phones beyond the fence. The show’s network is cut into two circles that can see each other. Which circle’s reposts sit closer to the 99%?
Some commenters stumbled on the name first, some saw the fence, and the clothes queued behind. The order of perception seems arranged in advance. Where attention stops, does the show end?
The question assumes the 99% needs to be represented. Bhaskaran says they speak for people without a voice, Dalton says they do not live in a bubble. Each sentence is sincere in its own way. Yet once the fence goes up, those represented and those invited become two lists. The first is large. The second is about 500 people. The picture is complete, while those outside it carry no names.
A quiet consequence follows: when a public space is lent to a brand, is the lender giving up a place or a crowd? The passers-by beyond the fence take up room in the picture without a seat. This record has no answer and leaves one question: when the lights come up, who is inside, and who is only background?
This report records the state of observation at this moment.
What has been gathered is press coverage, criticism and the makers’ own statements, and the brand’s response on entry arrangements is not yet counted. Judgements may be reinforced or reversed.
Observation continues.
