Welcome to Forgotten Fashion Shows, a deep dive into some of the most special runway presentations in fashion history – which still have an impact to this day. In this new series, writer Kristen Bateman interviews the designers and people who made these productions, discovering what made each one so special.
Evocative, almost shocking images of the Buddha and Kuan Yin – the Chinese Bodhisattva and goddess of compassion, mercy and kindness – plastered on the clothes worn by Iberian supermodels Irina Pantaeva, Frankie Rayder and Alice Dodd. “Face of Love” song by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan from the movie Dead Man Walking. Such an eclectic combination could only be found at a Vivienne Tam runway show from the mid-90s.
The designer’s spring 1997 presentation was a muted but influential show that featured religious iconography in an entirely new format. Digital artwork inspired by Chinese temples served as the backdrop for the track. Kuan Yin floated in fishnet dresses and T-shirts, evoking the temples Tam visited all her life growing up in Hong Kong. “It was one of my favorite collections,” says Tam W. “You know, I didn’t realize when I made the Buddha collection that so many people would like it. I think the message was really good.”
“I used to go to the temple all the time with my mother and I saw Kuan Yin, the goddess of mercy with such a beautiful face,” adds Tam of her inspiration behind the collection. “I thought I would love to be able to put her on clothes so that more and more people know about her face. Instead of going to the temple, they could just look at the person wearing each piece.”
By the time this show took place in the late ’90s, Tam was pushing the boundaries of fashion in a way that many of her contemporaries were not. She often mixed her outfits with political imagery like pictures of Mao Zedong – shocking her audience and wowing her biggest fans in the process. Tam made her foray into the industry by launching her label East Wind Code in 1982, the name directly associated with “good luck and prosperity” in Chinese. During that time period, Tam moved to New York from Hong Kong and created clothing that merged Western trends with Eastern imagery inspired by her upbringing. In 1993, she changed her brand name to Vivienne Tam and led her first runway show. Just two years later, she gained industry and world attention for her aforementioned Spring 1995 Mao Zedong collection, created in collaboration with artist Zhang Hongtu. In it, Mao Zedong was pictured wearing tails and looking cross-eyed with a bee perched on the tip of his nose; these images were screen printed onto column dresses, tops and jackets. Tam’s star power was on the rise by 1997, and her legacy remains embedded in fashion today.
“I love my ’90s collections,” says Tam. “I think the world — and at that time, America — really opened up. The whole world was booming and you could really feel the freedom of expression. There were fewer restrictions than there are today.”
But Tam’s spring 1997 collection remains significant beyond being a personal favorite of the designer. In ’97, the brand opened its New York store in SoHo, followed by locations in Los Angeles and Tokyo. Tam found fans like Julia Roberts and Madonna, and Beyoncé was photographed wearing one of the famous Kuan Yin T-shirts. The designer was nominated for the CFDA Perry Ellis Award for New Fashion Talent that same year; The signature Buddha/Kuan Yin net dress in this collection was also archived by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In 2015, the look was included in the Costume Institute’s most-attended fashion exhibition in history, China: Through the Glass. (It was also featured in the acclaimed documentary The First Monday in May, which chronicled that year’s Met Gala.) Today, the Spring 1997 pieces are fetching thousands of dollars on resale sites, and the TikTok community is rediscovering the brand and rocking it. . difficult for its unique aesthetic as well as its intellectual play on cultural themes.
While creating the Mao Zedong line, the designer had difficulty finding a manufacturer to create the pieces. In some countries, the clothes were banned – a small protest even happened in Hong Kong about the collection. Today, religious figures can be found all over fashion. But by then, Tam had broken great ground. “Thailand told me you can’t put Buddha in your shoes,” she says with a laugh.
The Spring 1997 collection also included a number of pieces that showcased Tam’s signature tones in simple silhouettes. In the show notes distributed to the press at the time, the designer wrote: “I want everyone to be able to wear my stuff. They are not expensive and anyone can match them with others, or with their own things, and their style and personality come through. To me, that’s more interesting than just dictating what I think people should look like.”
Another point worth noting: the high level of craftsmanship seen in a ready-to-wear show—a rarity for that fashion era, especially on the New York scene. There were embroidered, gauzy cheongsams; brocade trousers; bamboo dyed slip dresses; heavy, beaded camisoles; and skirts covered in gilded goldfish, as well as snakeskin bodices. The golden robes of the Buddha were cut asymmetrically and the tops of the wraps could be found worked into the clearest whisper of lace. “I don’t think these pieces could be made today,” she says. “They’re too complicated and nobody wants to do that.”
At the time, Tam was living in the West Village and remembers being very interested in reading spiritual books and doing yoga. “Every collection, I mean something,” says Tam. “Basically, the Buddha’s face was kept in a temple, but every time I went there, I felt so connected to her face and felt so calm and peaceful. I thought, why not let me share it with more people, tell them the story and who she is?” Today, the image projected across a dress has just as powerful a presence.
