Upon arrival at Saint Laurent’s monumental show, a staircase ascending the purpose-built venue in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower ostensibly had plumes of volcanic mist creeping out from each step. Inside, the heady scent of tuberose and jasmine filled the air — reminiscent of the lobby at La Mamounia — and the warm glow of gilt chandeliers lit a long moiré-carpeted catwalk. This was a recreation of the Intercontinental Hotel, where Yves Saint Laurent showed his collections on elevated catwalks from 1976 to 2001, the year he retired. But the goosebumps really pricked up as the show began. The first look set the tone for Anthony Vaccarello’s auteur-like vision for the Saint Laurent woman come autumn: dramatically wide shoulders, slim skirts ending just above the knee, plunging décolleté t-shirt, patent slingback stilettos, aviators obscuring her eyes, chunky metal cuffs on her wrists and doorknocker hoops dangling from her ears.
One of Anthony’s strengths is how uncompromising he is in his devotion to singularity. He is a designer who is crystal-clear in his focus and, as a result, cuts through the noise with clothes that are loud in their reticence. I could drone on about how designers are going back to making great clothes, focusing on construction and classicism, but that isn’t a new concept chez Saint Laurent. Anthony has always done that, and perhaps now, the rest of fashion is catching up with him. Sharp, severe, unflinchingly confident, and fiercely elegant. He remains a master of, consistently sharpening his vision by delving not into the whole of Saint Laurent’s illustrious history, but specific moments, exaggerating and fine-tuning certain motifs to create silhouettes that stamp onto your attention-deficit memory.
One of the biggest themes emerging in his collections is not the laser-sharp tailoring or incendiary dresses that Saint Laurent is known for by now, but the delicate balance between severity and something altogether more fluid. Masterful drapery lent a softness to the otherwise perpendicular silhouettes. Giant shawls were worn as capes over blazers, in wool and tartan and even leather and organza, clasped by Peretti-like hardware, striking a balance between cosy and imperiously regal. Unlike previous seasons, the main focus was on daywear, and as with Anthony’s menswear show last month, pussybows on chiffon blouses came extended into floor-sweeping trains, transformed from an 80s secreterial staple — think Margaret Thatcher and Sigourney Weaver in Working Girl — into dramatic eveningwear. Ruffles were kept clean, as precise as the shoulder-to-sleeve ratio on blazers, often oversized and purposefully placed. And throughout, there were the cigarette trousers and the slick accessories the house has become known for, with the noticeable exception of handbags; instead hands were placed insouciantly in pockets.
I’m sure something could be said about Anthony’s focus on the 80s, an era that is increasingly paralleled by our current socio-political climates. Sure, these top-heavy, almost trapeze-like silhouettes mimic the extremities of the stock market with their triangular shapes of wide shoulders, nipped waists and narrow skirts, but if any connection between then and now can be drawn, it is the notion of ‘power dressing’, another term that seems to have evaporated from today’s fashion lexicon. It seems alluring once again. After all, why shouldn’t a woman dress to appear more menacing, more imperious, and more powerful? It’s not exactly like times have really changed in the last 30 years — just look at the news. It’s clear that women still need great clothes and designers who believe that women can be deified through the simple act of getting dressed in the morning.
From the perspective of someone sitting in the sidelines, I get the sense that Anthony is getting increasingly confident — perhaps even daring — with his tunnel-vision collections. This one proved that it’s not always feather and frou-frou that leave a mark and command our attention (or that of our iPhones). In fact, it felt like the death knell for so much of the camp, silly stuff we see coming down the catwalk elsewhere. However, to say that this show heralds a return to good ol’ fashioned clothes without too much concept, would be an understatement. There’s nothing ordinary about these clothes. This is Saint Laurent, this is Paris — and this is fashion as high as the Eiffel Tower.
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Images courtesy of Spotlight