GIORGIO ARMANI has never made a convincing stab at haute couture, the major leagues of fashion. His clothes always seem stiff and out of touch. But consider the power of a name: outside his show in the Place du Trocadéro the crowd waiting to see guests arrive stood three deep. The area is popular with tourists. Still, none of the other couture shows last week produced that degree of public awe.
You can’t be Giorgio Armani and not know, at this stage, that you’re a world-renowned figure, a symbol of glamour and Hollywood, the man who dressed Michelle Pfeiffer, Richard Gere and lately Cate Blanchett. But Mr. Armani has struggled to adapt his cool understatement to a new, noisy world. The resulting look often includes flashy elements he once deplored.
On Wednesday, Mr. Armani’s fall couture collection was brighter, bolder and more flagrantly sexy than any he has done before. The opening outfits consisted of snug tweed and Prince of Wales jackets with flaring skirts in vivid orange or blue prints. There were tight jackets in hot pink and chartreuse crocodile. Orange satin flashed from the lining of a black coat. Platform shoes glittered. Necklines plunged.
Hilary Alexander, the intrepid fashion correspondent for The Daily Telegraph in London, hurried up to Mr. Armani after the show for an explanation. “A quote, Mr. Armani,” she said. “Just three words!” Not getting his attention, she shouted, “Are you on acid?”
If you said the clothes looked perfect for the wife of a Russian oligarch, it would be unfair to Mr. Armani and the wife. But, in a way, you wouldn’t be wrong. Until now, our notion of what is valid in fashion has been based on a rather parochial view of the world: Europe, North America, certain parts of Asia. Globalism has changed that. And it will continue to force people to come to terms not just with new markets but also new customers.
Mr. Armani is right to explore different styles and couture is the best place to do that. His pantsuits, with small, shapely jackets and lean trousers, were impeccable as well as fresh. Only a snob would complain that a feathery coat shot with hot pink was “a bit much,” the carved-out bodices of evening gowns “not for me.” Isn’t individuality a virtue of couture?
On the demerit side, some of the couture silks looked too heavy and old school for the sexier shapes. And he achieved nothing by putting hip pads in a silver-beaded sheath except to reveal a capacity to completely lose sight of proportion. Just because you get a fetishistic impulse in couture is no reason to throw away your basic standards. With no bust, the model looked like an ironing board from the side and a double-wide from the rear.
With Chanel and Dior at the head of the class, and a superb show by Jean Paul Gaultier on Wednesday, the couture season has been strong. Christian Lacroix’s collection was all savoir-faire as it explored the ethnic in chic and vice versa. Coats were voluminous, often in an Oriental pattern with an outsize detail like an ostrich-feather collar, and a simple wool dress underneath. One of the prettiest looks was a gold-embroidered tulle vest and a slim matching skirt under a black crepe bolero with Kelly green braid.
Mr. Lacroix managed to finesse the idea that while these clothes were wearable, they had little to do with the external world. They were a poet’s interpretation of femininity and beauty and only Mr. Lacroix could explain the relevance of the words he listed in his program, words like “furbelows” and “toilette” and “disorganized.” We just had to wonder at the life behind a vivid blue satin dress with a feathery black bodice and a white ruff.
You would have thought princess fairy tales old hat and certainly open to question after the publication of “The Diana Chronicles,” but Mr. Gaultier found a way to enchant us. This was his best haute couture show in several years, a wonderful mix of Paris tailoring (for elegant pantsuits and embroidered trench coats) and thoughtful wit.
The fairy tale had a maharajah twist. But here, too, Mr. Gaultier avoided the predictable plot, with biscuit-color jodhpurs in crocodile with an embroidered silk-satin blouse, an egg-shape parka in silvery beige silk embroidered with Asiatic dolls, an ornate kilt, and crowns of hair.
Sometimes the sartorial jokes get the better of Mr. Gaultier, but not this time. The obvious quality of the workmanship and the sureness of his hand kept you engaged, especially when he sent out a gorgeously draped navy satin dress, sashed on the left hip, with an officer’s coat in matching silk. Or a virtual second skin of embroidery and stones under a long leopard-print cape. Even the Raj prince who came out toward the end was a hunk
You can’t be Giorgio Armani and not know, at this stage, that you’re a world-renowned figure, a symbol of glamour and Hollywood, the man who dressed Michelle Pfeiffer, Richard Gere and lately Cate Blanchett. But Mr. Armani has struggled to adapt his cool understatement to a new, noisy world. The resulting look often includes flashy elements he once deplored.
On Wednesday, Mr. Armani’s fall couture collection was brighter, bolder and more flagrantly sexy than any he has done before. The opening outfits consisted of snug tweed and Prince of Wales jackets with flaring skirts in vivid orange or blue prints. There were tight jackets in hot pink and chartreuse crocodile. Orange satin flashed from the lining of a black coat. Platform shoes glittered. Necklines plunged.
Hilary Alexander, the intrepid fashion correspondent for The Daily Telegraph in London, hurried up to Mr. Armani after the show for an explanation. “A quote, Mr. Armani,” she said. “Just three words!” Not getting his attention, she shouted, “Are you on acid?”
If you said the clothes looked perfect for the wife of a Russian oligarch, it would be unfair to Mr. Armani and the wife. But, in a way, you wouldn’t be wrong. Until now, our notion of what is valid in fashion has been based on a rather parochial view of the world: Europe, North America, certain parts of Asia. Globalism has changed that. And it will continue to force people to come to terms not just with new markets but also new customers.
Mr. Armani is right to explore different styles and couture is the best place to do that. His pantsuits, with small, shapely jackets and lean trousers, were impeccable as well as fresh. Only a snob would complain that a feathery coat shot with hot pink was “a bit much,” the carved-out bodices of evening gowns “not for me.” Isn’t individuality a virtue of couture?
On the demerit side, some of the couture silks looked too heavy and old school for the sexier shapes. And he achieved nothing by putting hip pads in a silver-beaded sheath except to reveal a capacity to completely lose sight of proportion. Just because you get a fetishistic impulse in couture is no reason to throw away your basic standards. With no bust, the model looked like an ironing board from the side and a double-wide from the rear.
With Chanel and Dior at the head of the class, and a superb show by Jean Paul Gaultier on Wednesday, the couture season has been strong. Christian Lacroix’s collection was all savoir-faire as it explored the ethnic in chic and vice versa. Coats were voluminous, often in an Oriental pattern with an outsize detail like an ostrich-feather collar, and a simple wool dress underneath. One of the prettiest looks was a gold-embroidered tulle vest and a slim matching skirt under a black crepe bolero with Kelly green braid.
Mr. Lacroix managed to finesse the idea that while these clothes were wearable, they had little to do with the external world. They were a poet’s interpretation of femininity and beauty and only Mr. Lacroix could explain the relevance of the words he listed in his program, words like “furbelows” and “toilette” and “disorganized.” We just had to wonder at the life behind a vivid blue satin dress with a feathery black bodice and a white ruff.
You would have thought princess fairy tales old hat and certainly open to question after the publication of “The Diana Chronicles,” but Mr. Gaultier found a way to enchant us. This was his best haute couture show in several years, a wonderful mix of Paris tailoring (for elegant pantsuits and embroidered trench coats) and thoughtful wit.
The fairy tale had a maharajah twist. But here, too, Mr. Gaultier avoided the predictable plot, with biscuit-color jodhpurs in crocodile with an embroidered silk-satin blouse, an egg-shape parka in silvery beige silk embroidered with Asiatic dolls, an ornate kilt, and crowns of hair.
Sometimes the sartorial jokes get the better of Mr. Gaultier, but not this time. The obvious quality of the workmanship and the sureness of his hand kept you engaged, especially when he sent out a gorgeously draped navy satin dress, sashed on the left hip, with an officer’s coat in matching silk. Or a virtual second skin of embroidery and stones under a long leopard-print cape. Even the Raj prince who came out toward the end was a hunk
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