Clawing at the coattails of Fall 2010′s obsession with all things feral came another contingent of wild felines for Resort 2011. This year leopard, cheetah and jaguar have made themselves at home not only with Dolce and Gabbana and Roberto Cavalli, where they are familiar and loyal pets, but also at Dries Van Noten, Givenchy, and Haider Ackermann, where such spottings are somewhat less frequent. So why this continuing preoccupation with the furry, the spotty and – there’s really no other word for it – the fierce? And do all of these animal prints a gaudy mess make, or can they be donned with grace?
Riccardo Tisci's Resort 2011 collection for Givenchy, inspired by Frida Kahlo
Large spotted cats have long been an object of fascination in various world cultures for their hunting prowess and their intricate rosette patterns. From the Maya in Mesoamerica (jaguars) to the Zulu in Africa (leopards), the pelts of these beasts were reserved for kings and were usually hunted by only the most celebrated of marksmen once or twice a year. With the rise of the British Colonial Empire came the demand for spotted furs in the courts of Europe, where they likewise adorned only the likes of the rich and powerful.
When Jackie Kennedy wore a leopard coat designed by Oleg Cassini in the early 1960s a mania for spotted coats followed that reached a crescendo in the bohemian late 60s. By 1969, many of these regal felines were near extinction. The Endangered Species Conservation Act aimed to stem the spotted cat trade in the US; then CITES (the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species) came into effect in 1975 with more far-reaching restrictions that effectively banned the trade of large cats, although smaller spotted felines continue to be hunted and farmed for fashion today.
Chloe Sevigny for Opening Ceremony, Burberry (Melissa Tammerijn), Tracy Reese
So that’s exotic cat fur in a nutshell. It’s not my aim to delve into the politics of fur in this post. But what we’re getting at here with the leopard print trend has less to do with the physical reality of an animal pelt and more to do, if you will, with the very essence of leopard. For indeed, that is what the best of these designers are getting at. When the pattern is simply being printed on cotton, silk or wool, it is no longer about the hunt or the physicality of the creature, exactly. Does feline grace lie in the actual pelt? Is it in the arrangement of the spots? Or does it, instead, exist in something sublimely indescribable to which these physical trappings can only refer?
In addition to symbolizing power and wealth in both eastern and western ancient cultures, jaguars, leopards and their kin were also revered as spirit guides and were frequently called upon by shamans to assist them in their mystical work. These great spotted felines are equally at home on the earth, in the branches of trees and in the water, unlike any other cat. They demonstrate an uncanny ability to travel between worlds. This, the shamans thought, in addition to their ability to subdue any being, made them ideal spirit companions on travels through the immaterial worlds.
Giambattista Valli (Ramona Chmura), Marchesa, Gucci (Anna Selezneva)
Maybe this is more along the lines of what we seek when we swoon over Dries Van Noten’s leopard print scarves or Givenchy’s spotted leggings – a passport to new worlds where we are wild and capable of anything, where nothing and nobody will stand in our way.
Perhaps this is what the ancient Mayan kings felt as well when they threw the protective skin of the jaguar over their shoulders, or even what Jackie Kennedy felt when she wore the leopard skin coat that launched a thousand ships. Maybe this is what Mexican painter Frida Kahlo, Riccardo Tisci’s muse for the Givenchy Resort 2011 collection, was thinking when she painted a jaguar peering over her shoulder like a watchful bodyguard. I know this was what I was channeling when I wore the hell out of my sexy, stretchy leopard print dress throughout my pregnancy with my son. I was fierce. I was unstoppable. And I was about to travel between worlds.
As it happened, that dress was not as unstoppable as I on the journey between worlds; I had to retire it when I realized that it would never regain its original shape. But it did provide that subtle surge of wild strength just when I needed it most. And, when the time is right, I will gladly welcome a new spotted garment into my wardrobe for that moment when life hits me with an otherworldly travel itinerary once again.
