It’s where I left my big black heart. You know, I spent a semester abroad in Paris, snuck into my very first fancy fashion show that season, started my first blog while over there and perhaps most importantly: stopped washing my hair in order to obtain that perfect “bobo” look the girls who hang out in Le Marais had seemingly conquered. And so every time Fashion Week goes to Paris I make it my business to get over there. This season, however, I did not. Responsibility reared its heavy head and I contemplated the overwhelming stress-inducing shit I had to take care of on this side of the globe before a two week rally between Texas and Mexico toward the end of this month. Still, it will be repeated: Paris Fashion Week is the Olympics of Man Repelling and with brands like Comme des Garcons and Maison Martin Margiela at the forefront, it’s no wonder. Let’s dissect.
For the sake of fluidity, we’ll start at Maison Martin Margiela
where even though cardboard box blazers and protruding waist lines are a trend of the past, layers of suiting, gorilla arms and turtlenecks used as a means to repel sickness reign again. Again? In any case, what’s important here to note is in the slit. Paris Fashion Week
finds itself choc full of high slits a la
1990, but what Margiela is so good at doing, he does again. This is to say: staying on trend, yes, but including a quirk that makes it only applicable to…Margiela. See, those aren’t actually slits, they’re chunks of negative space.
Riffing on the dichotomies of Pre-Fall, Balenciaga is an experience best described as intergalactic, futuristic, robotic if you will. While the hint of ’80s modern working girl may not be as poignant, there’s something to be said about the commitment to trend again. Dangling earrings, overwhelming hair parts, and thick sleeves for one thing. Or three things. Whatever. The sweaters are kitschy and though no homage to Star Wars, that’s where my brain be.
And in another era saluting a different type of woman, Carven‘s Guillame Henry does it again. This collection always resonates in the same way that Miu Miu does because what it is, is ultimately kids clothing for adults. And that’s what most of us want in life. If I don’t look like a boy, generally speaking I don’t care to look like a girl past the age of 10. Star garment of the collection: a certain psychedelic paisley vest at left.
Driesus Christ! Dries van Noten. A good skinny ankle complimented by roomy harem thigh, experiments with brighter colors and prints for fall and fur accents that put the ill in gorilla make it so characteristically Dries without feeling tired. I appreciate consistency through seasons: it gives a little more longevity to past seasons and in turn may help a consumer want to buy more, more, mas, more. Get where I’m going?
And through the sewing machine of more Parisian royalty: last season saw a first hint of Navajo paraphernalia and this season, Isabel Marant spares no detail in the quest to perfect a modern urban cowgirl. Represented here are what were my favorite looks for the collection–a lace high neck is a bit more Victorian than it is cowgirl and a grey menswear inspired pea coat with red details and gold buttons may read a bit more military than it is does Ranch but take a look at the blouses at large, another homage to fringe, and the shoes, people, the shoes. I do also appreciate a hip belt and commitment to capri-length pant.
Finally, at Kenzo, I’ve figured out what Carol and Humberto have done to make this collection so swoon-, lust-, obsession-worthy and here’s what it is. It’s wearable, attainable, and practical without feeling manufactured for the sole purpose of saleability. There’s an element of fantasy and frivolity in the notion of indulging oneself in any of these pieces and yet, you don’t immediately become the crazy person crossing Sixth Avenue should you succumb to the prints, metallic accents, fabrics and structured sleeves of the collection. Whether or not that last sentiment is a good thing, I let you decide for yourself. This is genius.