It was only a matter of time before Christian Cowan found his way to Broadway. In a match made in musical heaven, the designer is costuming “The Queen of Versailles,” starring Kristin Chenoweth as beleaguered timeshare heiress Jackie Siegel.
“The vibe is early 2000s glamour, but Orlando, Fla., glamour,” Cowan joked during a spring preview. Winking at Siegel’s flashy Barbie-doll looks, he added: “It’s maximalist all the way.”
Siegel, who built the largest single-family home in America, doesn’t go by half-measures. Neither does Cowan, but Saturday night it was clear he was designing for city streets, not the stage — Cortland Alley, to be exact.
After last season’s performance-piece one-offs, Cowan’s been fleshing out his ready-to-wear line. Still, “my version — it’s not just a T-shirt you’re gonna run to Target in,” he teased, “but I hope you do!” His version of a basic white T-shirt — a collaboration with emerging corset maker Elias Matso — comes whirled around a snatched bodice. Tattered to shreds with sullen fringes down the back, it looked like the remnants of a back alley brawl.
One could more realistically see a fashion victim like Siegel pushing a big red shopping cart in the pedal pushers, rugby polos (one had a Polaroid of Cowan’s face on it) and furry matador shrugs. Second-skin club dresses with bands of mesh, latex and marabou of varying widths resembled barcodes, a fitting tongue-in-cheek nod to consumerism.
You might not’ve guessed it, but Cowan was paying homage to rather innocent childhood memories, realized as he remembers them now in queer adulthood. Born in Glasgow, he grew up in the Spanish fishing village of Moaña, which fed a nautical undercurrent in Matso’s wet-look ruching and those striped dresses.
Rings of tulle protruding from halternecks were inspired by tutus, which Cowan stole from his sisters, while silk maxis referenced his Catholic grandmother’s modest field skirts — doubtful, though, hers came with garters.
A self-professed underwear freak, Cowan is attracted by the scandal of showing them on the runway. He recently asked his mom why that might be and she answered with another memory: seeing her hang them from clothing lines to dry.
Cowan said: “These pieces are like love letters to the women in my life, who are my rocks.” Only in his hands could a sentiment so sweet turn into something so naughty.