Gucci Women’s Spring Summer 2017 Fashion Show

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"It's beautiful, it's pop, but it's also very sophisticated in a way. It's an eclectic conversation between different inspirations, that at the end becomes a language. My idea of fashion was always that it wasn't just one story, but a fresco of an illusion," Gucci creative director Alessandro Michele on the Gucci Women’s Spring Summer 2017 fashion show held in Milan on September 21.
Obsessed with collecting vintage fabrics, Alessandro Michele enriched the women’s Spring Summer 2017 collection with jacquards that shimmered with pinecones, oriental embroideries and prints featuring whimsical drawings by Jayde Fish, an illustrator he discovered on Instagram. The electric palette and decoration also defined oversized GG Marmont satin bags and platforms that came with removable slippers-inspired by footwear of Venetian courtesans. On the original soundtrack Florence Welch reads William Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience".
Music Direction: Steve Mackey
Music: Ben Lee and Emre Ramazanoglu

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22 сен 2016

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Комментарии : 53

@jamieseymour6824 7 лет назад

Florence Welch is reciting poetry throughout this

@lovesurfbunny 4 года назад

My hope is that people can at least understand the amazing piece of art Gucci created and that they know how to enjoy this trance-like parade of vocal/visual/colourful art.

@xbao113 7 лет назад

Five poems by William Blake：Night, My Pretty Rose Tree, Ah! Sun-flower, The Lilly, The Garden of Love

@lovesurfbunny 4 года назад

0:30 start of the poem Night, until 4:16 The sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest. And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight Sits and smiles on the night. Farewell, green fields and happy grove, Where flocks have took delight: Where lambs have nibbled, silent move The feet of angels bright; Unseen they pour blessing And joy without ceasing On each bud and blossom, And each sleeping bosom. They look in every thoughtless nest Where birds are cover'd warm; They visit caves of every beast, To keep them all from harm: If they see any weeping That should have been sleeping, They pour sleep on their head, And sit down by their bed. When wolves and tigers howl for prey, They pitying stand and weep, Seeking to drive their thirst away And keep them from the sheep. But, if they rush dreadful, The angels, most heedful, Receive each mild spirit, New worlds to inherit. And there the lion's ruddy eyes Shall flow with tears of gold: And pitying the tender cries, And walking round the fold: Saying, 'Wrath, by His meekness, And, by His health, sickness, Are driven away From our immortal day. 'And now beside thee, bleating lamb, I can lie down and sleep, Or think on Him who bore thy name, Graze after thee, and weep. For, wash'd in life's river, My bright mane for ever Shall shine like the gold As I guard o'er the fold.' Second poem: My Pretty Rose Tree, 6:49 to 7:14 A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said, ‘I’ve a pretty rose tree,’ And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight. 3rd poem, Ah! Sun-flower, 7:21 to 7:48 Ah Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun: Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done. Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire, Where my Sun-flower wishes to go. 4th poem, The Lilly, 7:54 to 8:08 The modest Rose puts forth a thorn, The humble sheep a threat’ning horn: While the Lily white shall in love delight, Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright. The last poem, The Garden of Love, 9:46 to 10:20 I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And Thou shalt not. writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires. Repetition of My Pretty Rose Tree from 10:23 to 10:34 A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said, ‘I’ve a pretty rose tree,’ And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Amazing work by Gucci, Florence Welsh and William Blake :)

@lovesurfbunny 4 года назад

0:30 start the poem Night, (all poems created by William Blake) , until 4:16 Second poem: My Pretty Rose Tree, 6:49 to 7:14 3rd poem, Ah! Sun-flower, 7:21 to 7:48 4th poem, The Lilly, 7:54 to 8:08 and the last poem, The Garden of Love, 9:46 to 10:20 Finally a reminiscence of My Pretty Rose Tree from 10:23 to 10:34. Enjoy :)

@sarahg4455 3 года назад

I love it all!! The Gucci aesthetic is amazing!

@EmilyJones-bj2lo 2 года назад

I couldn't stop imagining all of this as homeschool kids walking into public school for the first time to attend senior prom

@orianthikoriani6833 7 лет назад

pieced it together as best as i could The sun descending in the west the evening star does shine the birds are silent in their nest and i must seek for mine The moon like a flower in heavens half hour with silent delight sits and smiles in the night Farewell green fields and happy graves where flocks have took to light where lambs have nippled silent wombs the feet of angels bright Unseen they pour blessing enjoy without ceasing and each bud and blossom and each sleeping buzzom They look in every thoughtless nest where birds are covered warm they visit caves of every beast to keep them all from harm they see anything that should have been sleeping they pull sleep upon their head and sit down by their bed My wolves and tigers howl for prey they pity and stand and weep seeking to drive their thirst away keep them from the sheep but if they rush dreadfully, the angels most hateful perceive each wild spirit needing worlds to inherit And there the lions ruddy eyes shall flow with tears of gold and pitying their tender cries and walking around the fold saying wrath by his weakness and by his health sickness is driven away from our immortal day And now the sun being fleeting land i can lie down and sleep or think on him who bore thy name graze after thee in communion For washed in lifes river my bright beings were there and shall shine like the gold as i guard him from the fold as i guard him from the fold Shine like the gold as i guard from the fold A flower was offered to me, such a flower as may never born but i said i have a pretty rose tree and passed the sweet flower o’er then i went to my pretty rose tree to tend her by day and by night but my rose turned away with jealousy and i ?thummed? to my only delight Oh, sun flower, weary of time who counted the steps of the sun seeking after that sweet golden pine where the travellers journey is done Where the youth bend away with desire and the pale version shrouded in snow arise from their graves in despire that my sunflower wishes to go The modest pharoahs puts forth the thorn the humble sheep, the threatening horn or the lady white shall love in delight no thorn, nor thread stain her beauty bright I went to the garden of love and saw what i had never seen a chapel was built in the mist, where i used to play upon the green and the gates of this chapel were shut and thou shone light red upon the door so i turned to the garden of love, that so many sweet flowers bore and i saw it filled with graves and tombstones where the flowers should be and priests in black gowns all walking their rounds and binding with briars my joys and desires A flower was offered to me, such a flower as may never bore, but i said ‘i have a pretty rose tree, and passed the sweet flower o’er