Paris Fashion Week dramatically opened with Saint Laurent’s latest showcase, set against the breathtaking backdrop of the Trocadero plaza and the shimmering Eiffel Tower.
For the event, a stunning temporary garden was built on a raised platform, overflowing with thousands of white hydrangeas artfully arranged to form the iconic YSL logo. (This grand design was best appreciated from above, via drone livestream). With carefully placed faux-stone benches and lush greenery, the scene evoked the serene, manicured gardens found throughout Paris, like the Tuileries or Luxembourg. The key difference? This one was crafted solely for a single, spectacular evening.
Attendees, punctual as instructed, arrived early, filling the extra time with excited selfies against the magnificent floral backdrop. As night fell and the scheduled start time passed, a collective fidgeting began. Forty minutes later, Madonna made her grand entrance with her daughter Lourdes. Soon after, a striking ensemble emerged through the hydrangeas: a dramatic pussy-bow blouse, a black leather motorcycle jacket, and a sleek black leather pencil skirt. This look channeled the YSL of the 1970s and early 80s, an era when the brand skillfully balanced provocative fetishwear with undeniable elegance.
A decade ago, this combination — a fantastical setting, celebrity appearances, and archive-inspired pieces — would have been pure magic. However, as the collection unfolded with an array of exaggerated shoulders, oversized white blouses, sharp stilettos, and sunglasses, alongside sleek nylon raincoats reminiscent of the haute bourgeois Saint Laurent era, it felt more archaic than innovative. The collection’s closing act, however, offered a spark of energy: voluminous ruffled evening gowns, featuring dramatic puffed sleeves, empire waists, and sweeping trains, reinterpreted in modern parachute nylon. They conveyed a rebellious charm, like a troop of defiant infantas on the loose.
But with all this elaborate design and ostentatious flair, one can’t help but wonder: who is this woman the clothes are designed for?
Fashion finds itself at a precarious precipice of relevance. Simply re-imagining past shocking looks isn’t enough when those styles have long since been absorbed into the mainstream. In these times of global anxiety — marked by political shutdowns, widespread strikes, and international conflicts — repeatedly rehashing old ideas and retreating into nostalgia, while understandable, makes the entire industry feel detached and stagnant. While luxury has always operated within its own ‘dream’ world, a concept frequently invoked by designers and executives, this approach now feels less inspiring and more hollow.
Nicolas Ghesquière, Louis Vuitton’s artistic director for women’s wear, presented his collection in a particularly symbolic location: the private apartments of Anne of Austria within the Louvre, a space once occupied by the French queen from 1615-1643. His collection, in turn, offered a lavish vision of domesticity, showcasing exquisite garments designed for retreating into the comfort of one’s opulent home, far from worldly woes.
The collection featured incredibly soft, bathrobe-like coats layered over equally gentle suiting – even the corsetry was crafted from plush knits. Fluid onesies were paired with coordinating turbans, evoking the image of hair freshly wrapped in a towel after a luxurious bath. Crystal-adorned wraps, initially appearing to be cozy shearling, were revealed to be silk, expertly brushed to mimic the tactile richness of fur. Even the footwear maintained this theme of comfort, with tapestry slippers and soft lace-ups.
This wasn’t just loungewear; it was an ultra-luxurious interpretation for the elite .0001 percent. Its presentation within a museum setting felt more symbolic than intended. While the implied message was that these garments represent high art, or at least decorative artistry (a claim often true for exquisite pieces like the brushed silk), the unspoken subtext was that they have become relics of a bygone era.
The crucial question now facing every collection is how to bridge the gap between high fashion and the pressing realities of the present, igniting a sense of excitement and belief in the transformative power of clothing among a populace that is increasingly distracted, jaded, and anxious.
Ironically, a potential solution to this dilemma might be found in an entirely different kind of exhibition: ‘Virgil Abloh: The Codes’ at the Grand Palais. This immersive show explores the legacy of the late Virgil Abloh, former men’s wear designer for Louis Vuitton and founder of Off-White, who passed away in 2021. It marks the inaugural project from Virgil Abloh Securities, the entity established by his wife, Shannon, to preserve and evolve his influential work.
While its opening coincided with Fashion Week purely by chance — due to gallery availability, as Ms. Abloh explained — it proved to be a serendipitous alignment. ‘It felt as if he was looking down, saying, ‘Of course, I’m going to be part of Fashion Week this week,’ she mused.
Curated by Abloh’s long-standing collaborators, Chloé and Mahfuz Sultan, the exhibition offers an intimate journey into his creative universe. It begins with a recreation of his Louis Vuitton office, featuring a massive table laden with DJ equipment. Highlights include his extensive collection of Nike sneakers, spontaneous graffiti art made during a visit from Playboi Carti, and the overarching philosophy of continuous experimentation. The entire space buzzes with an almost palpable, electric energy.
This vibrant energy likely explains why the pop-up shop, a collaboration with Sarah Andelman (the visionary behind the former concept store Colette), was bustling with eager shoppers on opening day. Positioned at the exhibition’s entrance, it saw visitors eagerly acquiring Abloh-themed merchandise. From the impressive Assouline book detailing his work with Louis Vuitton to reissued items from his numerous collaborations, including a miniature Braun alarm clock, everything was flying off the shelves. The clocks, in particular, were nearly sold out within hours.
Observing the enthusiastic crowd at the cash register, Ms. Andelman remarked, ‘I constantly hear talk of retail’s demise, but this scene certainly doesn’t suggest that to me.’