Just re-reading Sarah Mower's essay in Self Service
"Helmut Lang was in our souls. Meshed into our identities. I think we must have felt about him the way war-weary women in the 50s felt when they were swept up by Christian Dior's swooningly romantic New Look, or how pioneer female executives were electrified when Giorgio Armani made them soft pantsuits in the 80s. A vital dynamic gets triggered when a truly great fashion designer goes to the core of a generation's aspirations. In real time, it helps us realize who we are; assures us everything's okay, just as we are. That's why people cried at Helmut Lang shows. He was saying who we were."