If the word auteur can be applied to any designer, it is surely Hedi Slimane: the master of branding whose overhaul of Celine continues to provoke an endless stream of commentary. It has often been noted that he operates with a laser-focused precision: that, if he is to explore Noughties-era rock’n’roll (as with both Saint Laurent, and his Celine debut) it is fanatically literal; that, when he reprised Left Bank archetypes (for his sophomore women’s show), they came complete with horse-bit handbags and heritage checks. His London store launch, then, is true to form: every inch an ode to the stark architectural minimalism with which he has long been besotted.
Located within some of Old Bond Street’s prime real estate, the first glimpse of Hedi’s London vision for Celine continues the Brutalist aesthetic which he rolled out in New York in February: think polished marble, polished steel, polished mirrors aplenty. Furniture designed by the man himself (“sculptural typologies”, is its official category) pays tribute to the Bauhaus philosophy that form ought to follow function: untreated wood turned into stools and bookcases filled with mini-libraries hand-selected by Hedi (enormous coffee table tomes on the subjects of skyscrapers, skateboarders and Jean Prouvé). The occasional vintage piece is scattered about, championing the seventies French woodwork that you can imagine once decorated the homes of the original Celine customer.
On that note, while that customer was once only female, this first London flagship is explicitly home to the brand’s new menswear offering (although it has been designed with androgyny in mind, and available sizes span the gender spectrum). When Slimane debuted his Celine vision, his ode to after-hours club kids provoked furious reactions from the women who had long considered the brand a go-to for effortless daywear. But here, presented only within the context of steel rails, his tailoring really does appear truly gender-neutral: sharp and chic and quintessentially Hedi. It might be a different woman who he is designing a wardrobe for now, but she certainly exists – and in droves. Presented alongside some rather boho accessories (fringed leather handbags and brown suede boots), the severity of his debut appeared cushioned – and incredibly commercially convincing.
The space also houses what Celine is referring to as its new art project: a series of works by some of Slimane’s favourite artists, which have been bought outright or commissioned by the house and installed in its newly-refurbished flagships. It’s an impressive roll call that stars the likes of Theaster Gates, Elaine Cameron Weir and, in London, totemic steel beams by Eli Ping – the sort of names that can often feel a little awkward in situ in a normal store, but work well within a space that bears remarkable parity to a contemporary art gallery.
That gallery spirit is reflected in the merchandising, too: Slimane’s collaboration with the artist Christian Marclay, for example, makes perfect sense here, a sparkling bomber jacket hung in prime place in the window bookended by black. If Hedi has spent his career thus far elevating his exacting aesthetic to an art form, this is a temple to his prowess. And when it comes to his many disciples, you know that if he builds it, they will come.