Sew Luxurious : The World’s Most Powerful Taste Makers Gather to Watch the Heavyweights of <i> Haute Couture </i> Display Their Exalted Visions
PARIS — Leave it to Karl Lagerfeld. Who else but the Chanel designer could have so masterfully reset the clock of Paris couture to chime 1996? With his spellbindingly chic show at the Ritz Hotel, Lagerfeld reminded everyone what haute couture is really about. It’s not a flying carpet to the future of fashion but simply a biannual celebration of the most luxurious handmade clothing in the world.
Haute couture, roughly translated, means the ultimate sewing. It is an exclusive club in which the members, designers and customers, take a vow to pursue exalted beauty. The purest and most Parisian example of that was the aristocratic model Carla Bruni, dressed by Chanel in a rose lace bolero jacket over a black lace bustier with a long black hip-hugging skirt. She wafted through the first floor salons of the Ritz under crystal chandeliers, stopping to peer out onto the rainy Place Vendome as if she were expecting the arrival of an admiring duke.
Only several hundred of the world’s most powerful taste makers were perched on gilded chairs at the Ritz; the less elite crowd watched at the Chanel boutique on a wide-screen TV.
They saw nubby wool boucle jackets in spearmint and raspberry paired with black, bias-cut skirts. These long day looks were worn with black ankle boots and belted with what will surely become one of the season’s must-have accessories, gold mesh belts with a pair of bejeweled rosettes, in front and back.
After dark, Lagerfeld evoked Empress Eugenie and other 19th century grand dames with triple-tiered dresses in black mousseline. The 1870s inspired a lot of other designers this season, including Christian Lacroix, Gianfranco Ferre at Dior and John Galliano, but only Lagerfeld knew how to render this look modern by draping the skirts close to the body.
Anyone curious about where Paris couture might go at the turn of the century should catch the next Vivienne Westwood show, since ideas the London designer presented as ready-to-wear several years ago are only now finding their way into the couture. Then again, how adventurous does a woman want to be when she’s spending $12,000 on a suit?
John Galliano, in his much anticipated and extravagantly hyped first couture collection for Givenchy, offered an answer to this question: just adventurous enough to turn every head in the room but, God forbid, not to draw a laugh.
On the eve of Galliano’s debut, several hundred of the most glamorous and powerful people in France, along with imported guests, including Tina Turner and Joan Collins, were closely guarding their invitations. The 35-year-old Brit from Gibraltar had galvanized the fashion community the past two years with magnificent and sometimes eccentric ready-to-wear designs.
The 45 outfits he created for Givenchy were a summary of his own brilliant career to date. His show opened with a pointed and powerful allegory, shrewdly designed to put the crowd’s frenzied expectations into perspective. When the curtain went up in an indoor stadium on the western edge of Paris, two crinolined models sat high atop twin piles of mattresses. These were clothes, Galliano seemed to be saying, that could only be appreciated by a princess sensitive enough to be disturbed by an errant pea.
A group of curvy black wool pantsuits, many with silk lapels, was as close to day wear, or daily life, as Galliano came, but those outfits displayed his basic silhouette: pert, padded shoulders, fitted sleeves and either flowing, slouchy pants or body-hugging skirts.
Since haute couture is often described as fashion’s laboratory, Galliano’s bustiers, tuxedo suits with his signature fluted shoulder and the vivid orange silks of his Indian-inspired finale are the looks most likely to find their way to American store racks.
In keeping with its self-image as one of the great institutions of France, the House of Dior rolled out major firepower to fill the choicest seats at its show in the marvelously ornate ballroom of the Grand Hotel. Gregory and Veronique Peck, Princess Michael of Kent, actress Emmanuel Beart, Paloma Picasso, and present and former French First Ladies Bernadette Chirac and Claude Pompidou sat at the head of the runway to view a nostalgic presentation. The effect was very “Roman Holiday,” complete with Empress Farah bubble-cut hairdos on the models.
Curvy luncheon suits, snugly fitted through the waist and hips, with stride-breaking midcalf skirts and plunging necklines were clearly never meant for a woman who spends a lot of time at a computer keyboard or sprints to catch a taxi. Evening wear was fully in the bower of feminine fantasy; billowing silk organza gowns in peony and rose prints emerged from Dior’s secret garden, adorned with gorgeous lace flowers, embroidered butterflies and dragonflies.
Though it was pretty, Yves Saint Laurent’s show begged the question of the 59-year-old designer’s creative vitality, especially in light of Hubert de Givenchy’s recent sagacious retirement. Saint Laurent’s own 1971 Carmen Miranda-themed collection was his source this year, and if much of the clothing was attractive, it had a warmed-over feel, down to the platform shoes and Ann Sheridan hairdos. YSL can still cut a mean dress though.
Oscar de la Renta’s sweet collection, marking Pierre Balman’s 50th anniversary, suited front-row ladies like American ambassador to France Pamela Harriman just fine. The show, full of bracing navy and white suits and layered chiffon dresses also celebrated the American designer’s renewed contract with the venerable design house.
A wonderful Italian softness distinguishes Valentino’s designs. His Roman seamstresses can more than match the work of any Parisian atelier, but his sumptuous clothes have an ease rarely seen in the French collections, which seem to suffer from creeping schoolmarmishness. Valentino’s sensitivity to his clients is evident in the flattering palette in which he works. Young or old, lifted or not, almost everyone looks good in gentle colors such as tea rose, mocha, mint and baby blue.
The mod day wear looks of Christian Lacroix had an odd, found-in-a-thrift shop aura, and ran to awkward fabric mixes and sour colors. His evening looks were better, as many of the elaborate gowns reflected the 18th century costumes the designer recently created for a performance of Phedra by the Comedie-Francaise.
In a way it was too bad that Gianni Versace’s Atelier show led off the season, since his showmanship--original soundtrack by Elton John, Sting and Jon Bon Jovi on view in the front row--might have been some welcome flash after a few days of high Parisian seriousness.
A few minutes into Gianni Versace’s show at the Ritz, front-row gal Diane von Furstenberg, she of ‘70s wrap dress fame, said, “Those look like my prints.” The tailored coat dresses in animal and geometric prints were worn with vividly patterned tights, and were the best part of a show that featured a lot of body-hugging leather and lace dresses, a generally awkward mix of textures. Aside from a stunning floor-skimming black dress with a violin cut-out back, evening wear was targeted at Cher and RuPaul, with bright metallic chain-mail slip dresses and lingerie-inspired looks. Versace’s clothes often challenge the limits of good taste, which may explain his popularity. Sign of the times?
