“We are just the internet.” So proclaimed Jonathan Anderson after his LOEWE Fall/Winter Men’s show in Paris last night. His remark opened a window for multiple interpretations. The first, that we (humans) have literally become the internet: we have morphed into cyber beings, solely orientating and existing in the digital realm. The second, hinted by the sceptical tone of ‘just’, implies our preoccupations with the happenings of the digital world. Are we so plugged in that we’ve completely tuned out? These observations paint a rather unfortunate picture, don’t you think? They conjure images of unsociability, lackadaisical living and utter indolence. Is this the state we’ve descended to?

Despite these sombre undertones, the show itself oozed with a plethora of playful textures, prints and unexpected silhouette pairings. The first two looks included bright green and orange leather coats, cut to 3/4 length and complete with an exaggerated bow at the neckline. These were followed by an array of boyish shirts: plaid, plain, and proper, some completely tucked in, others tousled at the waist. Then came straight blue jeans, clasped with an unbuckled square leather belt; satin track pants in mustard and green; aviator jackets; and floor-length brown ‘teddy’ coats. The prints, designed by Californian artist Richard Hawkins, injected the collection with pizazz, reflecting the show invitation and surrounding video installations, which projected LOEWE friends and ambassadors Josh O’Connor, TAEYONG, Stéphane Bak, Jamie Dornan and Manu Ríos against cathedral-like kaleidoscopic windows.

Throughout the collection, accessories were styled as if clothing adhesives—magnets attracting to their metal planes. According to the British designer’s press statement, “I was into this idea that you could nearly do a forced look, so that everything is one thing. So, the shoe was attached to the sock; the sock is attached to the trouser or the boots.” This idea was brought to life with white knitted tights fused into lilac sneakers, trousers messily tucked into socks, and oversized jackets with jumpers, T-shirts, and shorts dramatically spilling out at the seams.

After watching the fifty-five looks storm past on my iPad screen in the early hours of Sunday morning, I questioned whether the collection was entirely cohesive. Then, delving into the subsequent commentary, it struck me that ‘unity’ was perhaps not the initial intent. With these mismatched silhouettes and jumbled palette, was Anderson implying that the way we “put clothing together” is actually a reflection of who we are online: chaotic, random, reactive and dramatic? Or, was he saying that our clothes are just mirrors of our online world?