Dark mesh body suits, fringed bolero jackets, Ice-Queen head pieces and flame red hot pants, it could only be Pam Hogg AW15.

Waiting Game

“We’ve been waiting a fucking hour in the cold… and I never queue for anyone,” moaned one Californian editor to her pink-permed friend. “Correction: you never queue for anyone except Pam Hogg” tattled the poodle haired firecracker in retort.

But finally, with ice blocks in the place of what were once functioning feet, the expectant crowd were herded into the Vestibule runway at Freemason’s Hall to be greeted by visual chaos: Noel Fielding in cuban heels and a black and white zig-zag print knee length duffle cardigan sat three seats away from the delicate Stephen Jones in all of his maroon floral head-wear glory. David Motta chatted casually in Galliano newspaper print, complimented perfectly with an entirely painted face, while latecomers squeezed and squashed into the few remaining seats dotted around the auditorium. Each time a track ended on the overhead the whole audience would yelp and applaud with readiness, only to be kept waiting for Hogg’s creations time and time again.

Little Red Riding Hood, Alice Dellal and ‘Dogs and Deamons’

And at last, the lights dropped, and the tale of Little Red Riding Hood pumped out of the speaker, stealing the words out of the vibrant crowd’s mouths. And there she was: Little Red in her gigantic silken hood, cut out heels and flame-red hot pants, with a tiny bag made of rubber and twigs. Following her, emerged a mature woman with a shaved head, grasping a girthy wooden staff, clomping down the catwalk in thigh-high platforms, a mini-dress and an eye patch – all in black PVC. Collars were angular and giant, and appliqué snake-prints and shiny pastel colours carried through the collection. Alice Dellal bolted out in her brown suede and silver studded loin cloth and bra, like a badass punk cave-woman; while Josh Quinton and Andy Bradin (the faces of fashion’s favourite DJ duo ‘Disco Smack’, and the Lanvin Spring Summer campaign) stomped out, respectively, in a super 70s brown and black leather doublet-esque jacket, and a billowing satin cape which read ‘Dogs and Demons’ on the the reverse.

Flowers and Flesh-Mesh Knickers

The collection was rather polar in its themes, with about half of the looks in murderous blacks and chocolate browns, and the other half in pastel lamé with snake print detailing. Dark mesh bodysuits clung to models tightly, while big shiny gold and silver coats had purple flames creeping up the arms, and glossy electric blue horse-shoes dotted across the torso. Take home pieces were most certainly the enormous krall-neck collars and knee-length clown size kipper ties covered in even more appliqué; as well as Dellal’s final look consisting of ribbon-covered flesh-mesh knickers, with a perfectly placed series of pink bows sitting over the vagina – paired with a gold fringed bolero for upperwear, and a monstrous floral head piece.

Radical Couture

With the press release simply stating that all the clothes in show were single handedly designed, made and appliquéd by Hogg alone, this really was a form of radical couture. Not only were there pieces to make any outfit instantly statement, the show in its entirety was just that: a statement. Drawing the most widely diverse crowd fashion week has seen, as well as showcasing a wonderfully varied troupe of models, it’s for all of these reasons people continue to queue, for an hour, in the belting wind and ferocious rain, for Hogg – and Hogg alone.

Photography: Simon Armstrong.

Words: Tom Rasmussen