It takes a lot to the crowd of blasé fashion to be enthusiastic about a celebrity. Even the appearance of Kim Kardashian at the Margiela house with short hair that made her look like that she cosplayed her mother simply caused amused smiles. Ditto Ina Garten appearing in Hermès, to enjoy the leather parade. But when Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, was swept away in the Balenciaga show on Saturday evening, shealed in a white shawl on the ground, each smartphone pivoted in its wake. (Nearby, Lauren Sánchez Bezos caused less kerfuffle.)
It was a sign of the size of the agreement that the show, the first of the new creative director of the Maison Pierpaolo Piccioli, was going to be. After all, the Duchess knows something about the start of new chapters and dress the room. Even in a major beginning season, it was one of the biggest.
Mr. Piccioli took over from Demna, the mononymic designer who, during his decade in Balenciaga, had effectively upset the luxury hierarchy, making the brand an agent of change for the way in which we dressed and how we think of the world, extending its influence far beyond the scented expanses of high-end fashion. Where would he go now?
Back to the first principles. Which is not the same thing as back to the past.
Although there were heads up to the work of Demna in the ear glasses carried by all the models (more like a gesture of continuity than a presentation to an aggressive and protective sense, as they had been), generally the high street-toset which had recently defined Balenciaga had disappeared. Instead, there were clothes that spoke of the lines and volumes of the founder of the brand, Cristóbal Balenciaga, who believed in the pure power of construction.
The opening look – A black bagless bag dress hanging from the shoulders with a soft curve on the back, narrowing with the knees – set the tone. A crispy white shirt with black pants sink to the ground. An “envelope” dress was made up of two jersey -merged squares, so the points met on the neck in a licou, with fabric feathers similar to hell.
Each garment seemed calculated to create its own airspace, as if to allow breathing. Similar black pants with lea -lean B -loop belts were worn under black leather capes to reveal the belly in front, or under bombers in Squishy leather with the sloping shoulders of a cocoon. There was a green olive zipped jacket covered with 3D thorny flowers and associated with fanished denim pants, and a cocktail dress with brilliant purple bubble.
Elegant. Even impeccable. If it is not fashionable.
Above all, it was full of things to wear or want to wear, including what can be the best version of the divided skirt which is inexplicably transformed into one of the trends of the season: a full lunch which turned out to be the taking of Balenciaga on the Shorts of the Bermuda.
In this, the collection was sort of obvious, which seems derogatory but in fact means that it was easy to see how almost any part of the track could slide transparently into a wardrobe to make you feel – not cool, necessarily, but coldly in control. If the former Queen of the Babe of the company of New York Paley ended up on the board of directors of an AI company, this is how she could dress. These are not clothes that show you the future. They release you to get there.
Who cannot appreciate this right now?
This is why it was so frustrating to see Pieter Mulier, the creative director of Alaïa, put a pair of what seemed to be long bustigliers, without suspenders, with the length of Knickerbocker on his track. Imagine the link to the feet, but for the torso.
Azzedine Alaïa, the founder of the brand, was, like Balenciaga, one of the great construction and fashion feminists. And Mr. Mulier, like Mr. Piccioli, generally taken this heritage at heart, although in a more way of a warrior princess of science fiction.
This season, it meant fantastically sculptural monastic tunics, trapeze layers with booming necklaces and asymmetrical skirts garnished with oversized acorns. And the consciously avant-garde goalkeeper: thighs with a long suspended bangs from the top (the fringe is omnipresent on many tracks) and split skirts anchored in an arc, like a handle, on each ankle, but cut up the thigh on the side. A caliper dress extended on each side to hang around the heel of the shoe, while the sleeves had matching curls for the fingers, just to keep everything in place. Practical!
But there were then the long Johns.
Perhaps Mr. Mulier liked the rationalization of the silhouette. Maybe he thought it could feel protected to the wearer, as if she were tightening tightly. Maybe it was just wrong, for a striking image (a black turtleneck version of the look had slots for the arms). But when there is even the suggestion that the female agency should be sacrificed to the self-fulfillment of the designers, something has been wrong.
