It’s remarkable how irrelevant fashion can seem when you are outside of it and yet how breathtaking and all consuming it becomes when you’re invited in. The final day of Paris Fashion Week is now stacked with, let’s call them “the majors.” Chanel kicks off the day (with a rocket launching), Miu Miu eats your lunch and to wave your hat at the final week of the season — a particularly spectacular one because spring awaits! — Louis Vuitton steps in.
This is new. For years before this one, Chanel and Valentino would dominate the Tuesday schedule, leaving a bit of free time to attend appointments (or eat your way through town). Louis Vuitton would kick off Wednesday and Miu Miu would end it. By the time this show came around, many editors were gone. If you weren’t gone, there was, no doubt, an eery sense that you had overstayed your welcome. This sucks because Miu Miu makes clothes for the dreamers — women with joie de vivre who are consistently ready to drop the facades they wore the year before and assume new ones. (I say facade specifically because there’s no lack of identity about the house or its clothes.) It’s inviting and exciting, but who wants to feel “left over” among the fantastical garments of manic pixie friends?
There was no such feeling of left over at the earlier time slot today; large crown, fuzzy caps and transparent trench coats that covered mini dresses made entirely of paillettes were among us! The shoes ran the gamut from frankly vital to utterly frivolous, which is exactly the way it should be.
By 6:30 p.m., Louis Vuitton was slated to start. The show was being held at the Louvre, which is extremely fancy and particularly interesting given how intimate of a designer — like one truly obsessed with the underbelly of the arts — Nicolas Ghesquière can seem. He has a soft spot for motorcycle clothes; that’s been clear in so many renditions of the knockout boots that he showed tonight, and becomes clearer in the paneled leather jackets and cropped, flare pants that tend to pop up in all of his collections.
The very technical fabrics seem complicated, even though the clothes don’t, and there’s a reliability that’s being built among the carry over pieces that have come to define Ghesquière-for-Vuttion. Even among the high ceilings and cold floors and harsh lights at a generic landmark that defines Paris, there was an air of unique familiarity that made it seem personal.
And that’s how it all ended; now we strike.
Runway photos via Vogue Runway; feature photo by Victor Boyko via Getty Images.