Comme des Garçons
Do you use fashion to lift your mood, or to reflect how you really feel deep down inside?
At her Comme des Garçons show on Saturday, Rei Kawakubo didn't sugarcoat her message: “This collection is about my present state of mind. I have anger against everything in the world, especially against myself,” she said in a provided statement.
Her mesmerizing show unfurled like a theater piece, each model in some glossy, blackened Marie Antoinette-esque getup, several enacting various approaches to anger management. One stopped halfway down the runway and threw a tantrum, huffing and stomping her feet. Several models veered off the path to confront random guests in the front row, pressing their faces or their bulging, bow-festooned skirts toward them. Another succumbed to her flight instinct, but ultimately returned to complete the circuit.
The clothes were imposing in scale and construction: crude box shapes held together with industrial zips and stacked on the body; pannier skirts in black faux leather festooned with roughly knotted bows; big coats with a puckered surface, like blisters, or with jutting vertical fins that from a distance brought to mind razor blades.
Some of the black surfaces were printed with barbed wire or chain motifs, but others were stamped with anemone flowers, or whorled into big rosettes.
It seems anger does not preclude some romance, and dollops of glitz. A fuzzy cape and skirt fringe came shot with silver lurex threads, and a dense jacquard, glossy like wet tar, was chosen for an off-kilter jacket slashed open to accommodate the huge skirt underneath.
Tall Marge Simpson hairstyles compelled some models to put their anger aside for a moment and duck their heads under the hot spotlights hung low over the runway. A piano, playing Beethoven slightly angrily, accompanied their lilting runway walks.
As is her custom, Kawakubo did not emerge for a runway bow, and remained backstage, silently fuming. But her finale look was another blistered coat but in gleaming white and dangling pretty grosgrain ribbons and little bundles of tulle, suggesting — perhaps — a turn away from the taciturn.
Yohji Yamamoto
You could have heard a pin drop at Yohji Yamamoto in the silence that accompanied his opening black-clad models. Not that you did: the Japanese designer is a master tailor and there'd be nothing amiss, pins or otherwise.
But that first group directed the focus toward the protruding cubes that made the impeccable classic cut of a greatcoat jagged at the shoulders, or created a bustle effect under the back of a jacket.
A key to Yamamoto's fall season had been offered in his invitation. On the glossy side, matte print gave the details of his show. The matte side made the outline of a Cubist-style profile stand out starkly.
Backstage, when asked why he'd been thinking about that art movement, the designer replied in his inimitable deadpan manner: “I don't know, I was just inspired.”
But considering the times we live in, it wasn't hard to draw a parallel with the epoch in which “Guernica,” arguably one of Pablo Picasso's most famous works, was born: economic crises, the rise of extremism and nationalism, a global geopolitical chessboard on the brink.
Rather than canvas and paint, Yamamoto's medium is fabric and more than ever, it felt like he let his instinctual side take the wheel. Case in point: He said he couldn't talk about how he'd arrived at these silhouettes. “During fittings, I can change, I can touch,” he said with finality.
So there were the trappings of the world as we know it, with its suits, its dresses, the outerwear, the utility garments, their shapes slowly distorted as they were dissected into cubic units.
Then came plaids and other geometric woven fabrics, with colors and patterns bringing to mind the works of Georges Braque, Picasso's artistic counterpart in the creation of Cubism. Squint and on that dim runway, you could swear there was the outline of a guitar in the flurry of volumes and lines jutting from under a jacket.
Elsewhere, Yamamoto had the pieces of his patterns hanging by a literal thread, revealing contrasting linings. Throughout, silhouettes were statuesque but individual pieces were striking garments, not surreal gestures.
A final group in gray brought a sense of returning calm, perhaps even hope, the boils of dark fabric receding into a trailing presence on the back of soft tailored long coats and relaxed-fit suits.
As they vanished, one idea hung in the silence: Only a designer with the technical mastery of Yamamoto could pull such an artistic parable so seamlessly.
— Lily Templeton
Junya Watanabe
Geometry in motion is as good a descriptor as any for Junya Watanabe's fall collection, in which stiff, harness-like contraptions based on square pyramids, tors and more amorphous shapes orbited the designer's fine tailoring and dressmaking.
Watanabe began exploring prickly, jutting shapes for spring 2024 and he clearly hasn't tired of working with such kinks.
“I want to express the beauty of the contrast between clothes and sculptures,” he said in a provided quote.
These radical clothes felt like a poke in the eye to quiet luxury. Watanabe's camel coat abstracted into a bulging cage of polyhedrons with portals onto the floral chintz dress underneath. Practical? Hardly. Visually arresting? Off the charts.
Ultimately, the stiff, patent-leather pyramids jutting off blanket-like coats or propped over turtlenecks yielded to outerwear and dresses paved with the prismic padding found on motocross gear, and then softer Saturn-ring treatments employing plain leather strips or heavily studded belts.
It felt more futuristic than punk; the gorgeous finale coat looking like something a wicked stepdaughter of Darth Vader might wear with its imperious, jutting leather shoulders and grand, capelike sleeves.
Watanabe slashed his fetish biker jackets and they miraculously flared out into the shape of eggbeaters, and — in a break from all the stiffer fare — sent out a puffer jacket that resembled a cone of soft-serve licorice ice cream.
Add Watanabe to the list of fashion designers this week who should be tapped to costume a sci-fi movie or series pronto.
Hermès
With an all-day soaker in Paris on Saturday, Hermès didn't much need to make it rain inside for the runway show.
But it did make for a photogenic backdrop for the collection inspired by riding — both horses and motorbikes — even if it wasn't quite the noirish wet asphalt of Hollywood movies, but rather a rainfall that went through grates at the center of the runway.
So which lane does creative director Nadège Vanhee prefer?
“I go more for the bike,” she said backstage, a family affair where Hermès executive chairman Axel Dumas stopped by to say hi, and the designer gave her five-year-old daughter a kiss before she sat down to experience her first show.
“The idea was to think about riding from traditional to sharp and rebellious,” said Vanhee.
In other words, take the horsey house codes on a wild ride for the next gen Hermès customer who might keep her own horses, but also wouldn't hesitate to throw her Birkin on the back of a Harley and hit the road.
While the collections might not change that much, Vanhee deserves credit for transforming the house's fashion offering into something younger and more desirable. In that regard this collection was another winning lap.
She zeroed in on several key silhouettes, including a perfecto riding jacket cut with laser-like precision, anchored to the waist with a wide leather belt hidden inside and no other exterior fastenings. It had a
great shape, looked sophisticated in brown pinstripes over a matching pencil skirt, or in russet leather over ribbed leggings.
In a season when just about every designer has had leather on the runway, Hermès is still in a league of its own in terms of quality, and there was a leather look for every fancy, from a chic furtrimmed brown leather pea coat worn with matching trousers and cowboy boots (Hermès cowboy boots!), to a snug and subtly silver studded black biker jacket and tight leather pants.
Vanhee has been strengthening Hermès' knitwear with a lot of sex appeal, and continued to do so here with cropped ribbed cashmere sweaters over high-waist corduroy jodhpurs, bateau styles with studded leather harness details, shrunken bomber jackets and sculpting leggings made of a tight rib she likened to that of athletic socks.
Dresses always seem a bit like an afterthought at Hermès, and this season's were even more muted in subtle silk scarf prints or jacquards shaped by smocking. But they did really show off the shiny new must-have boot, a tall equestrian style that unzips to transform into a looser shaft biker style. A twofer.
Quiet luxury is no trend for Hermès, but Vanhee manages to change things up enough season to season, to keep the brand's fashion engine humming.
— Booth Moore
Akris
Albert Kriemler's superpower is his superb taste in fabrics: He is forever hunting for the perfect ones to bring a modern touch to his discreet, luxurious fashions.
His peerless fall collection unfurled as monochromatic outfits, making it easier to appreciate the fluffy, alpaca-like texture to his “cloud” cashmere sweaters; the crisp lines of his shift dresses in double-face cotton gabardine, and the dreamy drift of his caftan gowns in the same silk georgette he's been using since he was 22 years old.
“The fabric plays a major role in creating clothes in my quality,” he said during a showroom preview, showing off his rainproof silk coats, sturdy silk gazar utility shirts and plongé leather blazers.
Kriemler's show venue on Sunday was the recently shuttered C&A department store on Rue de Rivoli, its escalators no longer running and the building stripped back to raw concrete. The rough setting seemed to magnify the polish of his outfits, giving a sporty elan here and there with shearling baseball caps or hoods.
In a fashion season heavy on wearable clothes, and lots of black, Kriemler selected more novel dark colors: chocolate brown, kale green, dark olive and charcoal.
Then he went all out for his finale looks, printed with the photograms of Swiss artist Katalin Deér, which he discovered at Art Basel, mesmerized by the gradient greens, purples and caramels she achieved by placing a glass tube or crinkled paper in her developing tray.
Kriemler wrapped cement columns in digital screens that changed colors and patterns to match what the models were wearing, adding a nifty digital touch to his very analogue fashion world.
Victoria Beckham
You have to give it to Victoria Beckham. After breaking her foot at the gym (“I tripped,” she said of the accident), there she was on crutches, walking the full length of the runway at her fall 2024 show in Paris, even stopping mid-lap to give hubbie David a smooch.
And that was after PETA protesters caused a ruckus during the first few looks, sending her security guards scurrying.
Beckham is made of tough stuff. As a commenter on my Instagram said, “She works out harder than David.” She is also really funny, girlie and self-deprecating. Her fashion collection? That's more of an enigma.
In recent years, she's done ballet core, British countryside, lingerie looks, Latex, Hollywood starlet dresses, collegiate, hair as texture, fringe as texture, romantic sheer and oversize and tailored. But what does Victoria Beckham the fashion brand stand for? What are its signatures, other than the “B” logo on belts and handbag clasps? TBD.
She does consistently talk about the concept of wardrobe, which this season was a literal wardrobe where one keeps clothes on hangers. That sparked sharp shoulder lines on handsome peacoats; blazers suspended from the neck and pitched forward that could be worn with or without the arms in sleeves, drooping pants silhouettes, wire-shaped “mushroom” knits and starched shirt collars as accessories over bare skin.
In addition to these more conceptual looks were more classic pieces, too, including extreme funnel-neck leather jackets (for keeping the paparazzi — or
PETA protesters — at bay, perhaps), ski turtlenecks with logo zip pulls, and ballooning parachute dresses, some cinched
at the waist with abstract wire brooches after Picasso's light drawings, she said. (Art was another through-line, a Julian Schnabel painting that hangs in the Beckhams' home informed the darker color palette.)
While this was a more elevated collection from the designer with real standouts, particularly in the outerwear and knitwear departments, it did seem to cherry-pick some inspiration from others. Now that the beauty category has powered Beckham's business to net sales of 100 million euros, hopefully she can settle on and evolve a more palpable design language of her own. — Booth Moore
Carven
Louise Trotter is fleshing out her vision of the Carven woman.
On Saturday, she unveiled a new logo for the historic French fashion house, in tandem with her sophomore collection. Though it's early days, Trotter has succeeded in stoking buzz around the label, which is preparing to reopen its historic boutique at the foot of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées next week; the brand's Instagram account already has one million followers.
“We were really quite pleasantly and positively surprised how good the reaction was,” she said of her debut last season.
Rebuilding the brand's identity is an ongoing process for the designer, who focused on creating the kind of wardrobe staples you can wear on repeat, but that still kindle desire.
The clothes were all soft curves and gentle folds: supersized coats with wide rounded shoulders, loosely gathered tops and elongated skirts came in a palette of neutrals punctuated with dashes of scarlet and pistachio green.
Trotter stripped away detail to focus on textures, from a fuzzy knit tube top worn with slouchy pants to a dress in shaggy ivory fringe.
“There's a sort of interesting space between what is sportswear, what is eveningwear, what is daywear, and so I think that's something I've worked with and thought about, but also this feeling of being dressed and undressed,” she said during a preview.
The designer wasn't talking about the naked dressing trend that has swept runways this season, and which is probably giving bra manufacturers restless nights.
“Women can choose how they want to be for themselves, and if they want to attract that gaze, then that's also OK. I think the woman that I speak to, or the woman that I want to express, is a woman who dresses for herself,” Trotter said.
Tops with draped collars peeled open at the back, while scooped vests were paired with sculptural skirts pinned with a brooch at the hip. Quirky accessories included padded ballet flats that could quickly achieve cult status.
Trotter's cerebral sensuality is the sort that never sacrifices comfort. “How you feel in the clothes is very important to me,” she said. “I always ask the models: ‘How do you feel in that? Do you feel good in that?'” — Joelle Diderich
Nina Ricci
The fall Nina Ricci show began with the popping of flashlights in the darkened Salle Wagram theater.
First out of the gate was U.S. model
Colin Jones, aka Col the Doll, strutting down the runway in a black lace bodysuit, gathered pin-striped skirt and lace tights. Welcome to Harris Reed's vision of the chic
Parisienne.
The British-American designer said he was inspired by a 1962 Richard Avedon photograph of model and actress Suzy Parker sitting inside a car dressed in a tweed Nina Ricci dress with a fur-lined hood, as paparazzi press up against the window.
“It was really this like almost annoyed, aloof iconic-ness that she had that I fell in love with,” he said before the show. “It kind of set the energy for what I wanted Nina to be.”
Reed offered literal translations of the image, adding hoods trimmed with faux shearling to a classic beige trenchcoat, a velvet bodysuit with a graphic mock croc bow, and another one made of tweed with a peplum frill.
He riffed on ladylike looks, though his versions skewed more ‘80s than
‘50s — think a plum hourglass coat with a matching pillbox hat, or a polka dot dress with leg-of-mutton sleeves, topped with his signature black saucer hat.
It was, he said, “a sleek, French woman through an American lens.”
The designer, known for his fluid aesthetic, shrugged off the temptation to surf the TikTok bow trend, ditching oversize bows for streamlined versions that looked especially chic on white shirts worn with his killer wide lapel suits.
The lineup could have done with an edit: the sheer chiffon blouses felt derivative and the knit twin-sets lacked polish. And despite the presence of a handful of curve models, including Ashley Graham, the cast was less diverse, feeding a sense that Reed's exuberance has been dampened after three seasons at the house.
It would be a shame if Paris sucked the joy out of such a force of nature, though judging from the hollering backstage, the models were having a ball.
Vetements
You know the door situation is out of control when the creative director of the brand has to come outside and tug people from the melee.
It was madness on the Rue Cambon on Friday night ahead of the Vetements show, and no doubt Guram Gvasalia secretly relished the frenzied scene, having amassed a band of famous friends with whom he can talk expensive watches, diamond grills and how to dodge the paparazzi.
In the front row, Antoine Arnault stood out in his impeccable suit next to J Balvin in his gigantic white jacket and jumbo pants, and Tyga in a similar look but in black, a foil for Cher's blond beehive to his right. Further down the row was Tommy Cash, a tractor-sized inner-tube framing his head and shoulders and foreshadowing the rounded pool-noodle shoulders of Gvasalia's supersized fall collection.
It unfurled in chapters, opening with gargantuan tailoring with ramrod poolnoodle shoulders; then tight tanks and mega jeans with endless pant legs dragging on the carpet; then an evening segment of sparkling, second-skin gowns modeled by the likes of Carmen Kass and “Desperate Housewives” actress Marcia Cross, who looked seriously worried she might get tripped up in the extra-long skirt she hoisted to her best ability.
The show was peppered with visual jokes — a Donatella Versace lookalike here, the “South Park” stoner character Towlie fronting on a sweatshirt there — and a collaboration with Jean-Charles de Castelbajac reprising his teddy-bear coats in that bombastic Vetements way. Cristiano Ronaldo's wife Georgina Rodriguez shimmied out in a soccer jersey lengthened into a gown bearing a big 7, her hubbie's player number.
A queasiness crept in when the combination of a fridge-sized pantsuit and high heels got the best of one model, and she took a tumble. But the giant clothes kept pouring out by the meter, and she got swept up in the relentless flow of fabric.
No doubt this show will yield zillions of impressions, and fuel the hype behind this edgy Swiss brand. It also felt like a doormat-sized gauntlet was thrown down in the battle for supremacy in the oversize category. — Miles Socha
Noir Kei Ninomiya
As flashing lights and a booming voice announced “first look” at Noir Kei Ninomiya, out came what looked like a 3D and human-sized version of the doodles people make when they're trying different colors of pens at stationery stores.
From that, it wasn't hard to divine what was top of mind for the Japanese designer this season. “I tried to make something new this time, using more colors, more textures and mixing different kinds of materials,” he later said through a translator. “And playing with the lights as well.”
What followed were more brightly toned flurries of flowers, clouds of tulle or sprays of feathers that had a sense of child-like joy to them. The looks came supplemented by bright versions of Reebok's Instapump Fury sneakers, his latest collaboration that also spanned bags.
As the soundtrack distorted, dashes of Ninomiya's favorite hue — “still black,” he confirmed with a grin — appeared in the grid design of a fuzzy coat or as accessories.
They paved the way for his more conventional garments that too felt novel to him, breaking away from his rock and punk playbook with their dressier direction.
Standouts included a neatly fitted jacket with a straight collar adorned with a boteh motif, and charming balloon-sleeve tops cut from khaki satin and plaid separates zhuzhed up with harnesses, bestsellers for the brand if what the guests of his show wore is anything to go by.
Along with the XXL knits crafted out of satin tubing, a new direction in his quest to make clothing without a stitch, these were proof that when it comes to exploring the confines of his universe, Ninomiya's imagination never fades to black.
— Lily Templeton
Ann Demeulemeester
What a difference a season can make.
After a compelling if reverential first effort, Stefano Gallici showed more of his true colors while being respectful of the fashion house he now leads, following the blink-ofan-eye stint of Ludovic de Saint Sernin.
In a lengthy preview at the brand's headquarters in Paris, the soft-spoken designer described a less orthodox and more dynamic approach to the company's heritage, which Gallici had time to assimilate as he joined the firm in 2020. He was previously menswear designer.
Still, he compared this season's exercise as stepping into a forest, “a complex, vast world — one that many people outside it have idealized. Each person has experienced a different era of Ann… who in 40 years has been many things,” said Gallici. “And the more you walk into the forest, the more you get lost. But in a way, that kind of feeling has always been a positive one for me, because it led me to find new routes. It was still a wandering in a space I know well, so at the end you never truly abandon the essence of the brand.”
At his show on Friday, Gallici explored an intriguing mix of roughness and fragility via biker jackets, a more structured take on tailoring, georgette dresses and fluid lingerie elements — all infused with a raw energy and attitude.
To tense music, he paraded great coats and jackets with shearling collars, which were hand-painted to look disheveled.
They were made of leather with a lived-in effect or on military green melton fabric. Gallici highlighted that the former texture respected that sense of aging and enhanced value through usage that he's always loved about the founder's garments; the latter nodded to artist Joseph Beuys' 1970 “Felt Suit” piece that was part of the many personal references he cited.
Distressed sweaters and knit dresses further built on its rough narrative. The lingerie-inspired silk sets and see-through slipdresses contrasted with the structured outerwear, but still respecting the overall vibe with raw-cut paneling, gauze-like lace trimming and thorn-shaped embroideries. Tree-piece pin-striped suits were revisited with asymmetries while other sartorial pieces were crafted from crinkled velvet with a shiny finish.
“It's never easy to bring your own voice and persona: there's an ambivalence of determination and fragility at the same time behind this work,” Gallici mused.
An exercise in self-awareness, his convincing collection proved that not all those who wander are lost.