COUTURE FASHION WEEK kicked off in Paris last week. Some consider couture as Paris’ greatest showing long before Paris was burning, where the supreme designers showcase their most extravagant designs—often good, bad or indifferent. Oh the agony and ecstasy of creating couture, where towering prices collocated with euphoric expectations. At GBM News, we took a closer look at the collections and ultimate confections.
Atelier Versace was the opening act for the week, which erupted in a bang because Donatella Versace designed a fabulous collection, and enlisted her gal-pal Lady Gaga, the current face of Versace, who wore a look from the show before it debuted on the runway: a dramatic black satin number with a hood and train that was an ode to the legendary Grace Jones. “She left a sign as a strong power woman goddess.” Versace said.
“Donatella”, the song off Gaga’s latest offering, ARTPOP, was on repeat. By the third time around, it wasn’t a charm. Gorgeous gowns and fluffy furs were very Versace. There were a plethora of red carpet ready dresses in pastel hues, like a handful of designer jewels passed out like candy to couture babies.
Karl Lagerfeld’s cotton candy couture at Chanel had all of the ingredients of a posh Powerpuff girl: sugar, spice and everything nice. The set was a celebration of glorious excess, a white on white wonderland where magic awaited. It reminded me of the Fay Club on True Blood, the hit show on HBO. “It’s an ice palace, a night club on another planet.” Lagerfeld said. Behind the white tube, was Sebastian Tellier, a French electronic artist, dressed like a coterie of Jelly Belly. The fairy tale setting was the perfect backdrop for the models, who skipped spritely down the stairs like fay in couture sneakers designed by Massaro, laced in lace, pearl, python and tweed.
The clothes were less sporty than sporty spice—short skirts, crop tops and corsets were the main silhouette. Seeing so many corsets were almost illicit, considering Coco Chanel believed them to be the antithesis of modernity. She released women from the constraints of corsetry a century ago. A homogenous sea of mostly white faces, skirts and tops as matching sets, accessorized with arm pads, knee pads and fanny packs reminded me of an athletic Barbie: perfection boxed up, individuality sized, and sold like cigarettes.
“Break a leg!” Viktor & Rolf’s ballet presentation, masquerading as a couture show, was an advertisement for their upcoming fragrance, Bon Bon, They traded in the world’s best models for the world’s best dancers, the Dutch National Ballet, and dressed them in latex ballerina costumes. “We wanted to treat latex as something soft, which it isn’t.” Rolf Snoeren said. The pale palette pleased no one, and the frizzy hair added insult to injury.
Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pierpaolo Piccioli designed ostentatious Opera-inspired looks to be worn at the Opera or Oscars for Valentino. The opening look delineated from La Traviata, which was composed by Giuseppe Verdi—the sheet music was emblazoned on the sheer tulle gown, worn by Katy Perry at this year’s Grammy’s. Luckily, unlike Viktor & Rolf it was less ballet and more Black Swan. Other sheer tulle dresses in the collection was nothing short of poufy perfection. Continue reading