Abstract is the way MM6 approaches the seasonal exercise of devising pieces of a wardrobe, abstraction being the result of a certain bluntness, of an utterly non-narrative sense of matter-of-factness, of a twisted brand of straightforwardness.

Everything is what it is – a jacket, a cardigan, a coat – and yet it is not exactly as it should be, thus subject to getting a new meaning, another function, a twist of fate. Here, slits under the armhole allow the arms to pass through, and a cardigan to turn into a cape. There, a raincoat materializes in mustard colored denim. Quilting migrates from inside to outside, and back pockets land on a pair of lurid leggings. Further still, the length of a jacket is deliberately odd, inducing one to quiz: is it a dress or a piece of outerwear? A lining skirt, meanwhile, gets scissored to perilous shortness. The result, overall, is perfectly plain and yet rather alien.

Abstraction, this season, is front and center as a pillowcase that becomes a top, the print an exact replica of the one found on pillows in the hotel where the MM6 team usually stays during their trips. Abstraction, however, this season also comes with the apparent impression of being damned. Damned as in raised shoulder lines for hunched postures. Damned as in zippers that grow in number. Damned as in a concert graphic repeatedly hammered from tailoring to underpinnings. Damned as in outfits that are graphic like geometric statements, as bauhaus contraptions of angles and lines. Damned as total black, too.

Abstraction is expressed in the idea of open-ended clothing, in playing with textures, repeating pieces in different fabrications to reassess their value, while shifting it. Abstraction, ultimately, translates in a relentless play with length and width, as the pureness of the geometric forms allows a certain radicality of silhouette. Camionneur cardigans and bodysuits, as well as key holders as neck pendants riff of the history of the Maison. Accessories further delve into the realm of abstraction: irregularly shaped boots like hand-drawn comic book feet; blunt grafts of boots and loafers developed for the first time in collaboration with Dr. Martens, the cult Vritish brand. Fortune cookie bags, pillow bags and colored safety pins. Abstraction, finally, materializes within the suffused softness of a carpeted room, walls dematerialized by floaty curtains, time suspended into neutral calm, slashed by a damned sound score.