After climbing what seemed like a trillion rickety flights of stairs at the grand, historic, Lycee Henri IV to reach the Manish Arora show, the dusty old library in which I found myself was at paradox with Manish’s glorious technicolour visual assault on the eyeballs.
After the entire room was collectively told to, “shut the hell up!” by the photographers pit (Parisian ones are infinitely more aggressive than London ones, with snappers thinking nothing of hollering obscenities at the expectant mob) we were treated to sequins, jewelled embellishment and beadwork all in eye-popping hues looked distinctly futuristic offset with acid coloured, angular cut bob wigs.
A bizarre finale featured what appeared to be headphones with rotating fibre-optic tendrils (which reminded me of those 80s Christmas trees) and I pitied the poor model whose were falling off as she tenuously struggled to hold them on.
The opening look of the Balmain show screamed one thing to me: Marc Bolan. The big shaggy purple coat, dandyish blouson and tight leather pants spoke pure 70s glam-rock and what followed read as something of an homage to the sleazy, louche and decadent era.
Balmain Illustration by Christopher Morris
Paisley brocade suiting, tight, tight leopard print, and oodles of gold lame and leather. The boulder shoulders that we know so well popped up a couple of times, but the silhouette that Decarnin is sticking to the most is his ultra-short, long-sleeved micro-dress. Nothing revolutionary here, except a well executed, inspired theme as per usual.
If show invites hint of things to come, then Bernhard Willhelm’s package of six neon, erotic postcards nailed the agenda for his installation-cum-presentation. One part art show, two parts fashion show, absolutely all freak show, the scene resembled something I can only describe as a cyber-Geisha gymnasium.
Models wore pick-up-stick mohicans, wielded baguette pugil-sticks, plantpot dumbells and trickled mutlicoloured gel from teapots over towers of champagne flutes. Sexual voyeurs (moi included) rubbernecked to get a glimpse of a duo rolling around, dry-humping and 69ing with wanton abandon (trashing the set in the process). Once the girl removed her head from the guys crotch I realised it was my friend Marie – gotta love her balls – or rather, the guys whom she had her face in.
The clothes were pretty secondary to the madness, but as usual, humour took a central role embodied by the repeated phallic motifs. Geisha themes and Japanese symbolism were prominent and I loved the stacked heel shoes in collaboration with Camper.
Viktor and Rolf created their very own Russian Dolls from Maggie Rizer and Kristen McMenamy for their performance art show. The design duo took to the catwalk themselves and curiously peeled away multiple clothing layers, proceeding to dress the models (each channelling a sniper vibe with leather baseball caps and round-framed sunglasses) before they took to the catwalk.
Viktor & Rolf Illustration by Christopher Morris
Beginning with an Eskimo-style coat large enough to smuggle a whole innuit tribe, this gradually revealed cartoonish, oversized proportions; giant capes, tweed – both actual and digitally printed, all in varying shades of black, charcoal, pewter and gun metal. I found the seemingly gratuitous abundance of fur quite sickening. The collection was entitled, Glamour Factory, though I did wonder whether it could be dubbed Animal Factory – or indeed, Slaughter House…
Since the elusive Martin Margiela made a sneaky exit from his eponymous label two seasons ago, his absence was palpable with collections that seemed little more than poor parody’s of a Greatest Hits Collection. This time round, even with no creative director at the helm of the label, Maison Martin Margiela presented a serious return-to-form avant-garde show.
Sheer, bilious trousers cascaded over his trademark sloppy bucket-esque boots, the most unique and prevailing silhouette was that of bizarre column skirts and trousers whose waistlines seemingly hovered around the body. Contrasting textures juxtaposed interestingly; rubber/PVC turtle necks with fine-knit cardi’s and velvet with leather. Giant cable knit jumpers appeared as if they’d been knitted with rope. The closing few looks made me splutter; had the models climbed inside a yeti hide?
Ellen Grace Jones is founder of The Real Runway.
Tags:
80s Christmas Trees, A/W 2010, Balmain, Bernard Willheim, Geisha, Innuit chic, Lycee Henri IV, Maison Martin Margiela, Marc Bolan, Martin Margiela, paris, Paris Fashion Week, Viktor & Rolf
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