Grandma's Tablecloth Prints, Now in Latex

Giacomo Pavia, a designer at Gucci, has appeared on his feed this summer at an Italian holiday spot, dressed head to toe in ditsy-floral latex that covers even his face. His summer uniform, standing between parasols and a Virgin Mary procession, replicates exactly the patterns of the vinyl tablecloths spread over Italian grandmothers' kitchen tables. Small flowers, gingham, polka dots, hearts. The prints become glossy latex and cling to the entire body.

The collision of demure bourgeois domesticity with sensual material is house grammar Gucci has kept in motion for decades. Pavia applies that formula wholesale to a Sicilian vacation. The grandmother on the beach pulls on pink latex and cuts through the water. The sunbather who was napping sits in the sea in a polka-dot second skin. The moment fetish-club material meets the most innocent print of all, sensuality turns into humor.

By day Pavia works as an anonymous designer at the house, and on holiday he becomes a faceless mannequin and turns up in the feed. This is his dual identity. Only, there is no way to try this uniform on. Pavia's latex exists not in the wardrobe but inside the camera roll. Where do you draw the line between everyday wear and performance?