NO frills, and hardly any thrills: This was the main message that Paris sent out, reaffirming the same sentiments voiced during Milan Fashion Week. If anything, Autumn 2010 seems to be a period of atonement - an about-face from the days of $80,000 crocodile skin purses. The influential Paris shows seemed almost bulimic - a near rabid purge of excess resulting in one of the conservative seasons in recent memory.
Perhaps with fashion houses still smarting from past economic uncertainty, designers seemed to be looking back to the early 1990s for inspiration - the last time fashion went through a soul-searching phase. It emerged then with the birth of minimalism (Jil Sander, Helmut Lang and the Japanese designers) and a pared down, cleaned up aesthetic that would be the hallmark of the most important collections.
A literally penitent Yves Saint Laurent sent out a collection that would not look out of place in a house of worship. Creative director Stefano Pilati traded in his signature sexuality for a series of mostly black outfits, accented with hats that covered the models like wimples. Nun-like robes were cinched at the waist with dangling gold icons, while crepe dresses emulated the stained glass shades seen in cathedral windows. Capping off the minimalist streak was a range of governess jackets in black, exuding an austere, monastic simplicity.
Perhaps not strictly minimalist, but in the same restrained mode, the late Alexander McQueen's final 15 creations were shown in a stripped down private presentation. He was still working on these looks when he committed suicide last month, and his oeuvre of religious symbolism, mixed with an urgent futurism was still very much alive. Medieval paintings were manipulated and digitally woven (not merely printed) right into the outfits. It is such craft and innovation that will remain his legacy to the fashion world. It seemed fitting too that the over-the-top showmanship that is the hallmark of a McQueen show was absent. Instead, an aura of quiet respect permeated the collection.
Three English women, who all started out designing for Chloe, showcased their individual interpretations of minimalism with varying degrees of success. At Celine, Phoebe Philo described her look as 'sharp, strict, reduced'. This translated into workable separates which tried to harness the DNA of Celine - a bourgeois Parisian label that was at its peak in the 1970s. It was largely unremarkable, and seemed a watered down effort from her Spring show.
In the same vein, Stella McCartney sent out graphic coats with notches and slits as design details and clean-lined sweaters and slacks for her eponymous line.
However, both failed to come close to Chloe's Hannah MacGibbon, whose beige-hued collection defined this season's sensibility in a convincing style. Out went the signature frills, prints, chunky clogs and clunk bags. Instead, the designer borrowed from utilitarian masculine tailoring to give her minimalism an edge.
The camel coat, tan blouson, butterscotch leather jacket, herringbone tweeds and Prince of Wales checks - all seemed to be lifted straight from a British gent's closet. The breezy wearability, however, was all hers. She took that from the golden era of American sportswear (the 1970s), the days of early Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein - when dashing to work while looking businesslike, yet wholesomely sexy was the thing.
Another plus? This collection was wonderfully austere in another way: with just over 30 looks, it was one tightly edited collection.
At close to 80 looks, there was room for everything at Chanel, plus a few joke items. Karl Lagerfeld showed a collection that fantasised what Coco Chanel might have worn had she ever travelled to the Arctic. The show was drowning in this conceit, but look beyond the humour and you'll find clothes that mean business. The famous Chanel jackets were there in all permutations. Coats and cocktail dresses were unmistakably Chanel. All the usual house emblems of quilting, tweed, logos, buttons, bags and jingle jangle were present, if somewhat overshadowed by chubby 'fantasy furs'. In this, Mr Lagerfeld, a vocal pro-fur advocate, gave in to the new pared down aesthetic - all the fur was fake.
Meticulous tailoring was the hallmark of Hermès collection by Jean Paul Gaultier. Imagine, intricate workmanship in the lushest of materials - crocodile, leather, cashmere: what else can you ask for from a house that epitomised high luxury?
The TV series The Avengers proved to be Gaultier's point of reference, given the masculine Savile Row tailoring (the beautiful hats, bags and umbrellas effectively demonstrated classic Hermès values) with no concessions to trendiness. Almost an all-leather collection, it nonetheless felt brisk, and not leaden despite the over 50 looks on show - most of them outerwear. It was slyly sexy, and a very adult outing.
It was illuminating to compare Gaultier's show with Gareth Pugh's, which similarly featured almost all leather outfits. But with neither finesse nor fit, nor feeling for luxury, Mr Pugh's suits of leather looked as stiff as vinyl. And if they fitted awkwardly on models, what hope is there for mere mortals? He wanted to convey strength but succeeded only in heavy, dour and forbiddingly dreary Darth Vader coatdresses and pantsuits glazed like bus seats. This is the 'minimalism/futurism' of a banal computer game, the antithesis of adult clothes.
At Dior, a sophisticated, adult collection full of beautiful, real clothes was shown. An equestrian theme was the excuse for showing sweeping coats enveloping Dior's signature bias-cut dresses, redingotes, hacking jackets, and jodhpurs. The catwalk high jinks John Galliano is known for were nowhere to be seen, and it was the most stripped down show that he has ever put on.
For Louis Vuitton, Marc Jacobs also went minimalist by forgoing his usual it-girly style, going for looks that were all woman. In his retro mod tribute to the young Brigitte Bardot, Jacobs once again earned comparisons to Miuccia Prada, who referenced a similar shape earlier on in Milan. But this being Louis Vuitton, you tended to see the clothes only as a grey backdrop to display the bags.
Interpreted in myriad ways, the classic Speedy bag was the main focus. No wonder. First made in the 1930s, the Speedy is known for its functional shape, clean lines and easy elegance - all the traits that fashion aspires to this season.
The focus in Paris was on a severe austerity and a reflection of the times that fashion sees itself in. In the few shows that introduced a note of retro - earnest or ironic - the clothes felt out of place. However, the jury is still out on whether such 'real' clothes - the type most women, as opposed to celebrities and ladies-who-lunch, might covet - will be a good thing for fashion in the long term. After all, classic clothing that can be worn season after season would make the reinvention of fashion simply moot.
btnews@sph.com.sg
This article was first published in The Business Times.
