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The wide-angle view of this Rick Owens show was spectacular. His models walked through billowing dyed smoke—very acrid smelling—in the courtyard of the Palais de Tokyo. The smoke, said Owens preshow, was designed to help “it feel a little bit like a riot or Burning Man. It adds a sense of play and recklessness. I want to be reckless and dangerous. I want to die a used-up wreck.”

Rick’s no wreck yet: Through the fumes, this collection was notable for its grimily sci-fi coats and gowns coated in “Brutalist sequins” (panels of painted canvas), plus its closing garments—wearable tents—which were inspired by the Russian Constructivist designs Owens had been considering as he built the collection. “They’re nylon parkas,” said the designer, “and they are going to be shipped as nylon parkas, with the poles separately. So you can build them if you want to. But what you are going to see on the hanger is a nice, soft nylon parka—the poles represent what this parka can be. That’s the idea of hope; that is what the poles represent in a way.”

Just because they are so unusual to see at an Owens show, a very brief section of striped garments really snagged your eye. A silky black jacket came attached at the left sleeve to a silky panel of oily red and white stripes; it fluttered against the smoke like a dramatically shot American flag. There were a lot of tough-looking denim skirts with irregular hems and side-harness pockets (these looked pretty good below a slim tailored black jacket), plus wide poppered black pants aplenty. Many of the pieces came stitched with vectors, and the looks near the beginning came with metal linear structures (smaller equivalents of the tent parkas).

So why the Constructivist theme? Well, the collection was titled Babel, as in Tower of, which had made Owens think of Vladimir Tatlin’s never-built tower, commissioned by Lenin to mark the Bolshevik ascendancy in Russia. “It’s such a symbol of hope, and there is something so compelling about how it looks. A Constructivist tower is about control, and the Tower of Babel is about confusion: everybody splitting up and too much information, too.”

So this was a collection about control versus confusion?

“That’s the story I’m telling every season,” Owens replied. “That’s my story, and that’s the story of humanity: trying to fix ourselves, always trying to fix ourselves.” As Owens spoke we got a close-up view of the models. Many of them were wearing sandals by Birkenstock, with whom Owens is collaborating on a line. The stylists were hard at work ensuring their toes were in tip-top condition (always a prime consideration with Birks). When I noted that it was interesting that he was delving into themes of darkness and chaos in such sensibly centered footwear, Owens said: “I’m talking about control and collapse and chaos and everything, but in my personal life I’m looking for a balance between responsibility, well-being—and extreme hedonism. And I think there is a way of balancing that out. Responsibility doesn’t mean you’re uptight, and hedonism doesn’t mean you’re evil. The Birkenstock adds this nice placid, serene feeling of well-being and liberalism. It’s like taking muesli with your Ecstasy.”