May 18, 2015 |
It feels like a sense of fun and new permeated Paris this season. Colours were bright, the old guard let their guard down and new names on the schedule injected a surge of current into the proceedings. Is it just us or has the Seine turned into some fountain of youth? What are they pumping into the air there? Would it be wrong to nickname it ‘Youthquake’?
Is it wrong to say that Celine was almost playful? There were giant furry pom pom scarves, puffy yet form fitting coats slit on the shoulder that resembled shrunken duvets. Foxes were printed across silk shirts, black tufts across a white ensemble resembled polka dots of frayed knots. It was a little eccentric but not crazy bag lady eccentric, more forward thinking. Just awkward and new enough to make you reconsider how you dress. It’s the age old Diana Vreeland, ‘give ’em what they never knew they wanted”, and season after season Phoebe Philo does just that. In fact she hits you square between the eyes with it.
Roland Mouret was a touch more youthful this season. A bit harder too. There was a sort of playfulness to this- flashes of midriff covered in mesh?- yet it still retained a sense of composure in the silhouettes. The maybe playfulness isn’t necessarily the right word, maybe flirtatious is better? The kicky hems of skirts, the skin exposed yet obscured by sheer mesh, the brightness of the colours, bright oranges and rich purples, jackets of panelled leather in a palette of greens. So maybe she isn’t a rebel without a cause, but who says every rebel needs a cause. And anyway, you can have too much of a good thing, and that applies to rebellion too. Quality over quantity.
I know that every time we write about Balmain, we harp on about how it’s a vision of 80s womanhood, something that even the female leads of Dynasty would aspire to, but it really is. What can we say, Olivier Rousteing gives good 80s power bitch. This time it was a bit younger, more Fallon than Alexis. More Colby’s than Dynasty. Fallon must be turning in whatever intergalactic column she was laid in when that spaceship abducted her, at the thought that she will never get to wear those ruffled metallic mini’s, striped jumpsuits with plunging necklines and beaded shifts in what can only be described as vivid jewel tones. What can we say, her loss is our gain. More Balmain to go round.
Dior was like The Matrix seen through the prism of a 70s futurism or, alternatively through a lava lamp. Or at least that’s what I said at the time, while watching the live stream. In actual fact it’s about nature and modernity. How to make nature modern. What is nature? Can we do flowers again? No. So instead take an animal print, say a tiger and blow it up to obscurity to it give a more urban edge. Blow it up so large it becomes reminiscent of a 60′s Remove the nature from nature so to speak. Silhouette wise think masculine tailoring in an almost dulled down rainbow spectrum contrasted with quite poppy and feminine layers. And can we mention the boots? Tight, PVC, and we’ll assume crotch grazing, on a contrasting lucite heel.
And now for John Galliano’s pret-a-porter debut at Maison Margiela. And there was a model who scuttled. Literally scuttled down the runway, her arms sort of swinging in front of her like witchy claws. Galliano was inspired by innocence and there was a certain playful, almost child like quality to the clothes. Like a character from a Grimm fairytale, but then Galliano has always liked characters. There was a bit of an urchin quality. Long coats of silk had tiny bodices, billowing out from the waist. Chiffons and velvets were trimmed with marabou, trousers, cuffed with velvet trim and ending below the knee were reminiscent of skin tight knickerbockers and intricate bead work speckled torsos and legs. It was in essence Galliano doing what Galliano does best, which is Galliano. But a reigned in. A pared down vision. Basically just him at the top of his form.
Jonathan Anderson, so we read, described his Loewe woman this season as “someone who wears the trousers.” And it must be said that these were exceptional trousers and his woman wore them exceptionally well. They were full and flowing, cut from somber coloured cloth or brightly hued leather. There’s something at once odd yet rather fresh about a full trouser in a mint green leather, that sort of hospital shade of mint. These were worn mainly with leather blouson jackets, or knee length tunics printed in a sort of abstract grid pattern. Basically, he managed the pull off the feat of making the eighties look chic and grown up. And not in a Alexis Colby way either. You wouldn’t dream of wearing Loewe to a fancy dress party. This is real life fashion.
Today we bring you Louis Vuitton, the parting shot. Basically, from behind. Because, let’s be honest you’ve seen it from the front already. It’s everywhere. But a rear view is a much rarer sighting. Take a moment to admire the rear view. Isn’t it remarkably crafted. Look at the seams, the curve of the zip, the shape of that fancy shoulder. The same about of attention has been paid top the back of this garment, all the garments in the collection actually, as has been paid to the front. There’s actually something rather 1980′s to this. To quote myself, it’s quite “Brigitte Nielsen during her days as Jackie Salone’s daughter-in-law. Brigitte never took plastic surgery advice from Jackie which is why her face is on her face.” Not that we’re comparing this to Jackie’s face. Or Brigitte’s for that matter. Anyway, think fur coats, chain belts, a leg-of-mutton sleeve, leather skirts and pants, ribbed knits and kitten heels.
There were 96 exits at Chanel. 96. Which would lead any mortal to have a meltdown trying to interpret the concept of tweed, pearls and little black dresses in 96 ways, but nor Karl. For Karl is not mortal. He is something else. One day scientists will discover what it is that makes Karl Karl. In the meantime we’ll just have to gape and admire from a safe non threatening distance. Anyway, this season, the Grande Palais was transformed into a brasserie, the Brasserie Gabriele and focused on a bourgeois lady of leisure type creature, encased in an exquisite array of sheer chiffons, rich tweeds and delicately embroidered lace. Her shoe message was equally strong. There was only one shoe design here, a classic two tone slingback, first introduced by Mme Chanel in the fifties.
