Global rhythms
It was a sweat bath under the tent at the Jardin des Tuileries, with hundreds of fashionistas fanning themselves. But at the Dior show Tuesday, when John Lennon’s peace anthem “Imagine” rang out, it was difficult not to get goose bumps. With floaty chiffon dresses, colorful “Dior Not War” sweaters and floral appliqued suede coats, the spring collection blazed a path through the peace-loving 1960s and ‘70s with references as far-reaching as Carly Simon, Japanese manga and British designers Ossie Clark and Mary Quant. But what was most surprising about the collection was its accessibility: Simply put, John Galliano stopped wasting everyone’s time and put clothes, not costumes, on the runway. It was a renewed commitment to making Dior a house for more than just accessories and Oscar gowns.
Fashion Week began here Monday, and so far the shows have been terrific. Designers have turned their backs on spectacle to get down to work on what is next in this post-pretty, post-raunchy era.
At Dior, slim ecru boucle, leather and lace suits opened the show, with loops of satin ribbon at the hems of skirts and denim pockets and collars on jackets. Oversized round sunglasses, white crocheted tam-o’-shanter caps or brown felt wide-brimmed floppy hats, and floral-print Mary Jane shoes completed the glam granny picture. The second act was a youthquake of Technicolor separates that should sell like Beatles 45s: argyle print polo dresses, pleated micro-mini jean skirts, rainbow-stripe string bikinis and “Dior for Peace” satin bomber jackets. The accessories were quirky and fun -- over-the-knee striped socks stuffed into fur flip-flops, stilettos with fur pompoms on the toes, boots with knit leg warmers incorporated into the tops and armloads of plastic bangle bracelets in jelly bean colors. For a finale, rich hippies with frizzy coifs exploding from beneath knit skullcaps glided out in ruffled chiffon bell-bottoms or long skirts, bringing to mind the late heiress Talitha Getty. Not even Galliano’s runway turn (this season he’s channeling Charlie Chaplin, walking stick and all) could upstage the polished presentation.
Balenciaga designer Nicolas Ghesquiere may have the “It” bag in stores right now (the motorcycle saddlebag), but he has yet to create the same sensation with his clothing at the revived label. That could change come spring. Ghesquiere had nothing short of a breakthrough, leaving his experimental phase behind and broadening his view to include sophisticated suiting inspired by naval uniforms. Sailor pants were soft through the leg and tapered, with thin gold braid down the sides. At the waist, tabs fastened with gold buttons, and a single pocket flapped down in front. Easy cardigan jackets fell in undulating drapes like movie house curtains and had deep, low-set pockets. Skirts with meandering gold zippers were tight to the knee with flared, rolled hems, while dresses managed to be both romantic and fierce, with strapless bodices, wide crocodile belts and liquid black flounced skirts grazing the tops of tall, zip-front gladiator sandals.
Helmut Lang explored the naval theme too, in a complicated collection of jersey separates rigged with straps that were twisted and knotted like rope. Dresses came in a collage of colors, with strips of fabric ripped, twirled and sewn back onto the surface. An asymmetrical top had knots scattered all over it, as if someone had grabbed fistfuls of jersey and stitched around them. There were cropped sailor pants and sailor-collared shirts, but the bulk of Lang’s sportswear was in clean, crisp beige and cream pinstripes. For evening, the hem of a gown was hoisted with a twisted strap that curved around the neck to make a halter, while ropes of pearls were looped gently around the shoulders like some kind of pirate’s treasure.
The spirit of Madame Gres was alive at Yohji Yamamoto, where a simple white shirt was transformed by the late French couturier’s famous pleats, draped across the top, knotted at the left shoulder and left to hang. It was paired with a long black skirt layered over trousers and the Y-3 sneakers the designer has created so successfully with Adidas, for a totally modern effect. At the same time, there were nods to ancient Greek goddess gowns. Under clouds of hair, the models looked otherworldly in long black dresses with thick fabric braids draped around the neck as a halter and released, or across the bust and left to fan out to the floor.
Balancing multiple straw bowler hats arranged like flower petals atop their heads, Junya Watanabe’s women looked as if they belonged to some distant tribe. Simple white button-down shirts with rounded collars were the counterpoint to rough-hemmed black peasant skirts, bolero jackets or camisole tops. Embellishments were oversize dressmaker snaps or gold zippers, clustered at the waist and neck like jewelry. The effect was quietly poetic but at the same time in tune with spring’s global rhythms.
Costume National’s Ennio Capasa crossed rock ‘n’ roll style with exoticism, offering one of the season’s most creative takes on the African trend. He went way beyond cheetah prints, incorporating the jewelry and geography of the continent into his designs. Sure, there were safari suits -- with seams traced in red patent leather. But there was also a tunic dress in a landscape print that brought to mind Mt. Kilimanjaro, elaborately beaded at the collar and with slit sleeves. A bustier came in a tweedy ndebele stitch (a kind of African needlepoint), and a miniskirt was inset with strips of enameled raffia. Capasa’s gowns were spectacular, in an abstract woodblock print or in simple black silk with gold silk cord harnesses and colorful beadwork.
Comme des Garcons’ Rei Kawakubo has a singular vision, and this season it involved ballet tutus and swollen leather biker jackets that seemed to capture the two sides of femininity that fashion is currently struggling to reconcile: hard and soft, tough and romantic. Jackets cut in stiff leather or neoprene, with rolled-up short sleeves, were set aloft over delicate dance skirts. Models in motorcycle gloves held their arms stiff, resting their hands against the layers of tulle that radiated straight from the hips. Amid all the attempts at intellectualizing the show (what is the significance of an 18th century coiled, powdered man’s wig on a woman?), there really was only one inescapable truth: The jackets, with their rounded silhouettes and rows of whipstitching, resembled well-worn catcher’s mitts.
