Celine fulfils all as the many shows go on

WHAT’S the point of all these fashion shows? As they proliferate with the energy of the Zika virus, it’s not an unreasonable question. At Balenciaga, where Demna Gvasalia, the charming Georgian-born agent provocateur was recently installed as creative director, the assaults on taste came with a vigour both confrontational and strangely compelling, partly because as a streetwear designer (if £185 T-shirts can be termed as such), he has form in making clothes that get worn. Gaudy floral patterns once favoured by Florida dowagers? Naturally. Leggings were out in force too – not merely printed and high-waisted but with feet, which will rule them out for all but extreme-fashion thrill seekers. The crisp, high-necked drape shirts will inspire countless copies but I would have liked more tailoring ideas, given that this is a house that once specialised in it. Valentino has lost 50 per cent of its creative force now that Maria Grazia Chiuri has left for Dior. That leaves Pierpaolo Piccioli in sole charge. Expunged of fanciful historical references, what could be more classically lovely than high-waisted wafty evening dresses in translucent, embroidered white gazaars or block-coloured laced-edge chiffons and velvets, worn with suede ballet shoes that buckled several times around the ankle? Some more day-wear would have made it more relevant to round-theclock dressing. But if pipe dreams are your thing, this one was ravishing. If both these shows could have gone further in their aims, Celine fulfilled on every front. Against curved glass screens designed by artist Dan Graham, designer Phoebe Philo played her own games with transparency and contouring. Here, too, the semi-fitted dress was a star piece, swirling in soft crimson pleats from a prim collar, or in trompe l’oeil freefall, semi-suspended from shirts of vest tops. The many desirables included gold-framed flat handbags, pointy high-cut mules and studded leather coats.