The fashion world is notoriously hard to impress, especially when it comes to celebrity appearances. Even unexpected guests like Kim Kardashian with a bold new hairstyle or Ina Garten at a luxury leather show barely raise an eyebrow. Yet, when Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex, arrived at the Balenciaga show on Saturday evening, draped in a stunning white shawl, every phone in the room instantly captured her presence. Her entrance overshadowed even other notable attendees like Lauren Sánchez Bezos, underscoring the immense buzz around this particular event.
This star-studded arrival highlighted just how significant Pierpaolo Piccioli’s debut as Balenciaga’s new creative director was. The duchess, known for her own sartorial statements and fresh beginnings, perfectly embodied the spirit of a show that promised a major shift in one of fashion’s most influential houses.
Piccioli was stepping into big shoes, following Demna, the singular designer who had spent a decade revolutionizing Balenciaga, pushing boundaries in luxury and challenging our perceptions of dress and the modern world. The question on everyone’s mind was: what direction would the brand take next?
The answer? A thoughtful return to foundational principles, yet firmly planted in the present.
While subtle nods to Demna’s era appeared in the form of bug-eye glasses (a gesture of continuity rather than aggressive protection), the brand’s recent haute streetwear aesthetic was largely absent. Instead, Piccioli presented garments that honored the iconic lines and volumes of Cristóbal Balenciaga, the founder who championed the sheer artistry of construction.
The show began with a powerful statement: a sleeveless black sack dress, gracefully suspended from the shoulders, featuring a gentle curve at the back and narrowing elegantly at the knees. This set the collection’s tone. Other standout pieces included a crisp white shirt with a floor-length train, paired with relaxed black trousers, and an innovative “envelope” dress crafted from two fused jersey squares, forming a halter neck with dramatic, talon-like fabric feathers at the hem.
Each piece seemed meticulously designed to offer a sense of freedom and “airspace.” We saw slender black pants with minimalist B-buckle belts, often layered under flowing black leather capes that revealed a peek of the midriff, or beneath soft, cocoon-like leather bomber jackets with distinct sloping shoulders. The collection also featured an olive-green zip-up jacket adorned with three-dimensional spiky floral details, teamed with faded denim culottes, and a vibrant violet bubble cocktail dress.
The collection was, in a word, impeccable. Perhaps not revolutionary in the extreme, but undeniably refined.
Crucially, it offered a wealth of eminently wearable pieces. This included what might be the season’s most compelling interpretation of the popular split skirt: a voluminous bubble midi that ingeniously transformed into Balenciaga’s unique take on Bermuda shorts.
This “no-brainer” approach, far from being a criticism, signifies a collection where almost every item could effortlessly integrate into an existing wardrobe. It promises a feeling of quiet confidence and control, rather than overt trendiness. Imagine a modern-day socialite, perhaps a board member of an AI startup, choosing her attire – this is what she might wear. These aren’t clothes to dictate the future, but to empower you to navigate it.
In a world craving practicality and refined ease, who wouldn’t welcome such a vision?
This made the contrasting display at Alaïa all the more striking, where creative director Pieter Mulier presented what appeared to be strapless, armless, knickerbocker-length “long johns.” It evoked an unsettling image of restriction, almost like foot-binding for the torso.
Azzedine Alaïa, the brand’s founder, much like Cristóbal Balenciaga, was celebrated as a master of construction and a champion of feminist principles in fashion. Mulier has typically honored this legacy, often with a distinct sci-fi warrior princess edge.
This season, his interpretation included strikingly sculptural monastic tunics, dramatic trapeze coats with towering collars, and asymmetrical skirts adorned with oversized tassels. He also explored the self-consciously avant-garde: thigh-high stockings featuring long, hanging fringe (a ubiquitous trend this season) and split skirts that were cinched at the ankles with bow-like shackles, yet daringly cut to the upper thigh at the sides. A stirrup dress was designed to hook around the heel of the shoe, with matching finger loops on the sleeves to ensure everything stayed perfectly in place – quite resourceful!
But then, there were those “long johns.”
Perhaps Mulier aimed for a streamlined silhouette or a sense of protected embrace for the wearer. Or perhaps it was a clever trompe l’oeil for a striking photograph (a black turtleneck version of the look did have functional arm slits). However, when a designer’s creative expression even hints at sacrificing a woman’s freedom of movement for an aesthetic, it suggests a profound misstep in the world of fashion.