Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 289 The Dimensional Reduction Attack of Aesthetics

Act I

When the lights in the banquet hall went completely dark, leaving only a faint halo at the end of the T-stage, the distinctive "click-clack" of an old-fashioned movie projector rang out clearly in the silence.

The guests then noticed that a vintage movie projector had been set up at the front of the runway. As the projectionist installed the film reel, a beam of light carrying memories of the past was projected onto a screen hanging at the other end of the runway.

A poignant tale of joy and sorrow, spanning forty years and condensed into fifteen minutes, unfolds silently, accompanied by simple subtitles and melodious yet slightly melancholic background music:

The story begins in Germany, where an idealistic young French tailor meets, gets to know, and falls deeply in love with a beautiful Eastern woman. They vow to spend their lives together, but the shadow of war cruelly separates them, leaving them worlds apart.

In an era of communication barriers and insurmountable distances, the two faced immense pressure from their respective families, exhausting their youth, resources, and all their energy in a frantic search for each other. Hope and despair alternated, but only their unwavering devotion sustained them through the long nights.

It wasn't until the end of World War II that the weathered old tailor finally found the love of his dreams. However, what awaited him was her terminal illness and dying state. In the last moments of her life, she used all her remaining strength to embroider a bright red Chinese wedding dress for herself. And he, working through the night, made himself a dignified suit.

Without guests or ceremony, the two, dressed in their symbolic red gowns and suits, posed for their first and last photograph together in front of a photographer hired on short notice. The photo captured her weak yet contented smile, and the deep, unwavering love and sorrow in his eyes.

Soon after, the bride passed away. The old tailor entrusted his tailor shop, which he had run all his life in Paris, to his only apprentice, and then chose to follow his beloved in death. His dying wish was that his apprentice bury them together.

As the film ended, before the lights came on and the screen went dark, a chorus of suppressed sobs and quiet weeping filled the air on both sides of the runway. These seasoned fashion icons and design masters were all deeply moved. The ladies elegantly wiped their eyes with handkerchiefs, and even many of the men had red eyes, deeply immersed in the awe and sorrow brought by this timeless and culturally transcendent love story.

In those short fifteen minutes, the brand soul of Libre de Soi—that unwavering pursuit and fusion—had deeply penetrated the hearts of all the viewers, leaving a profound emotional imprint.

Lin Yan sat in a slightly dark corner of the venue, calmly observing the audience's reactions. His gaze swept over Daniel's parents beside him, noticing that the gentle intellectuals were tightly covering their eyes with handkerchiefs, and Mrs. Li's shoulders were still trembling slightly, clearly completely immersed in the tragic story.

Just then, an extremely strong sense of absurdity suddenly gripped Lin Yan.

He succeeded. He used a story core that incorporated clichéd romance tropes from decades later, dressed it up in the "novel" guise of a transnational tragic love story, and easily moved the entire Parisian fashion world, along with his rational friends, to tears.

An even more "rebellious" thought uncontrollably surfaced, tinged with a playful malice:

"The results are so good... It seems I've already grasped the secrets to the film and television industry's wealth over the next few decades. Should I consider bringing over those 'Tomato Short Dramas' from decades later—the ones with faster pace, more intense conflicts, and more complex plots? Once they're on the market, won't those artsy young people from the 1960s be completely hooked?"

The thought almost made him burst out laughing. Standing in Paris in 1960, using a cultural template from the future to launch a "dimensional reduction attack"—that feeling was indeed... somewhat exhilarating.

However, he quickly suppressed this fleeting sense of morbid amusement. He knew that the "melodramatic script" he had just tested was merely an appetizer; what would truly shock the world was the costumes themselves, and the Eastern aesthetics that were about to debut, imbued with the weight of real history.

He composed himself and turned his gaze back to the soon-to-be-lit runway. The real show was just beginning.

(Act Two)

When the yellowed design sketch appeared on the big screen, the entire audience was still immersed in the lingering sadness of the previous scene. Next to the sketch was an exquisite bilingual (English and French) annotation: "A little tailor's inspiration: an everyday suit designed for a slender figure."

Suddenly, a highly rhythmic jazz drumbeat broke the silence!

The lights at the top of the runway suddenly blazed on, projecting sharp, clean beams of light. To the accompaniment of a lively saxophone melody, a slender, upright figure strode confidently to the front of the stage—a tailored suit perfectly accentuated his smooth lines, and the casual pose of one hand in his pocket exuded effortless elegance.

As the model reached the end of the runway, under the spotlight, she suddenly raised her hand and removed her beret, her long golden hair cascading down like a waterfall—

"Wow!"

A rustling sound of chairs shifting filled the audience. Yves Saint Laurent unconsciously adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, Coco Chanel's feather fan froze in mid-air, and Courréges exchanged a shocked glance with Cardin beside him.

The woman exuding composure on the runway in a suit is clearly a woman!

In the 1960s, an era when women's clothing was not yet fully liberated, this design, which retained the crisp silhouette of a men's suit while readjusting proportions to suit the female figure, was a complete subversion of the existing fashion system. The clean cut gave women a chic and elegant air, unlike their dresses, while the narrow waistline and slightly wide trousers subtly revealed femininity.

"My God..." a fashion magazine editor murmured to himself, "She's wearing a suit, yet she's more dazzling than any gown!"

At the backstage entrance, Tom and Mike stared wide-eyed at the stage, then turned to look at Lin Yan, who had appeared beside them with a smile. Lin Yan, Daniel, adjusted his glasses and quickly jotted down notes in his notebook: "A subversive practice of clothing as a cultural symbol..."

At this moment, everyone truly understood that this show was not only about a tragic love story, but also a declaration of an aesthetic revolution.

The sketches on the big screen changed again and again, each change representing a different outfit. This time, it was a cheongsam design with smooth lines, a stand-up collar, and Chinese knot buttons, with the caption: "The first dress drawn for her: Oriental Rhythm".

As the lights shifted, a model gracefully stepped out. She wore a dark blue cheongsam made of the new "Xiangyun Yarn" from the Nanhai Yarn Factory. Under the lights, the fabric had a hazy, transparent quality, like smoke or mist, as if flowing clouds were floating on the hem of her garment as she moved. Even more astonishing was that, with each step the model took, the subtle patterns on the fabric shimmered with a pearly sheen in the light.

"This transparency..." a veteran fabric merchant couldn't help but exclaim, "This is definitely not ordinary silk!"

Coco Chanel's gaze followed the dark blue fabric intently. She recognized the exquisite draping technique, but the flowing yet crisp texture of the fabric before her made her think deeply.