Fashion week highlights for autumn/winter 2012

Alexander McQueen

Once again, the organic references at McQueen were seared with a modern intricacy, the shoes heel-less and the models’ eyes hidden behind mirrored visors. It was curious to watch the clothes move, each shaggy twist of Mongolian lamb fur, ostrich feather and goat fur undulating and recoiling as if dancing to the ebullient refrain of The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations”. The silhouettes blossomed from shrunken, pleated seed husks dotted with pearlescent florets of sequins into shivering cascades of organza, massaged into discernible frothy petals which somehow sustained an extraordinary oxymoronic combination of a downy, feather-like texture and the crimped shape of a pteriomorphic seashell. The inspiration? A humble mushroom. And unglamorous as that might seem, visually, this woman is a futuristic incarnation of a fairy princess, a Sugar Plum Fairy in lilac dégradée, and that future is certainly bright. Even the evolution of the princess, a story told through the length of the show, was not one haunted by any dark, apocalyptic coda that might hint at the signature of Sarah Burton’s late mentor. Instead, the movement was from “innocence to experience,” as Tim Blanks elegantly put it. Burton is pushing forward, in technique and vision, McQueen’s spirit becoming less of a shadowy burden and more of a guiding star, a surveying eye casting his blessing over her hand in keeping his house alive. To quote a different genre of legend, “I, I love the colourful clothes she wears, and the way the sunlight plays upon her hair…” - SV

Jil Sander

Raf Simons’ swansong at Jil Sander could have seemed planned to be just that, a collection to end an era at the fashion house. However, his departure from the house was confirmed a mere two days before the show, and at the finale, a tearful Simons received both a standing ovation and an encore. The show opened to the tune of Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You” with a model demurely clasping her blush pink coat closed; you wondered what was hidden beneath. Nothing, perhaps, or maybe a satin sheath nightdress? As the collection unfolded, it became clear that this was a woman whose challenge it was to at once both conceal and be seen, a play-off between the proper and the improper. Graphic cut-outs, slices of silver and moulded black leather cut through a palette evoking the break of dawn: pale grey, pink and coffee brown. Protected within serene confines, Raf Simons captured a collection of intimate domestic moments between a couple, from morning lingerie to sculpted black cocktail dresses, and the vision was almost poetic in its simplicity. Vanessa Friedman of the FT called the collection “mesmerizing”. This, the closing collection of Simons’ “couture trilogy”, was nothing short of an ending most appropriate to an extraordinary seven-year reign at Jil Sander. As successor to Raf Simons, there is no doubt that even Jil herself will need all the help she can get sustaining the critics’ ceaseless praise of his work. - SV

Louis Vuitton

All change on the Louis Vuitton Express – a steam engine pulls into the Cour Carrée of the Palais du Louvre, and a procession of romantic heroines from a bygone era (followed two paces behind by a uniformed porter, naturally) disembark to an audience held beguiled by a vision of cinematic nostalgia. The colour palette seemed to be taken out of a sepia film reel: on a base of brown, Marc threw violet, lime green, mustard orange. And though some colours should, objectively, have been throwing insults at one another upon forced combination, somehow the mustard nestled comfortably within the chocolate brown velvet, the kaleidoscopic embellishment upon navy blue. The silhouettes were certainly nothing modern, but escaped any inkling of seeming dated; the fabrics from which they were cut required the highest level of technology to produce, many costing up to €1,000 per metre. Skirts fell to mid-calf, layered beneath magnificent frock-coats with wide enamelled buttons, and sunken top hats (something reminiscent of the everyday garb of the Mad Hatter) perched atop. Some of these melancholy beauties were bespectacled; dark, saucer-sized lenses twinkling beneath their hat brims – evocative of the lady wishing to travel incognito, unaware that she’s wearing the most conspicuous items of disguise. This is not to mention the luggage toted by her loyal porter, equally luxurious in glittering sequin or alligator, or fluttering dégradée goat fur. A triumph of Tolstoyan proportions, exposing Marc Jacobs for the true showman that he is. - SV

Gucci

A romantic decadence underpinned Frida Giannini’s show for Gucci this season – a story of power and luxury painted in black. But it was in the shades of blacks that Giannini weaved her magic: from leathers to velvets, jewels and furs, the elaborate mix of textures and fabrics used in each outfit gave an unexpected grandeur to the single toned colour. With a deep atmospheric beat that faded into a clinking musical chime, Gucci’s first parade of models came clad in tight brocade dresses or loosely cut trousers. Stomping the Milanese catwalk in knee-high pointed boots and sweeping capes, the models conjured a sense of adventure through a dark enchanted forest. Yet this season, the element of forestry originated from the garments themselves, with appliqué flowers on translucent chiffon blouses, and floral prints swirling on billowing silk. A floor-length emerald devoré dress paired with sweetly twisted-back hair painted a portrait of elvish royalty - in fact, the collection as whole emulated a sense of mystical aristocracy, but the women donning Gucci’s robes were the heroines of their fairytales, not the damsels in distress. But that didn’t stop them from disrobing into the sheerest of dresses, lighter than air. Rather, it seemed that the jewelled flowers entwining themselves around the models were a delicate work of nature, and that the layers of tulle flowing to the floor were but a dramatic addition. This may not have been a collection to battle the cold, but given the choice we’d choose Gucci’s dark fairytale adventure any day. - AY

Lanvin

This season at Lanvin certainly had cause for celebration: Alber Elbaz’s brought in his 10th year at the helm of fashion’s longest surviving house with thundering applause and bellowing cheers. From peacock green to glowing orange, and cut in Alber’s signature structure of strength in simplicity, the models took to the runway with a confidence that only Lanvin can install. Dramatic elegance with a dash of fun is what Alber does best, with Karlie Kloss taking a starring role as the quintessential Lanvin woman in a sweetly structured black velvet dress. Flirty in its flare, but toughened up with a double wrapped leather belt, no doubt this will become next season’s most coveted LBD. After a dark interlude, it seemed the treasure chest opened, filled with golden bullions and gems the size of marbles. The girls glittered in Alber’s crystal-embellished, gold-plated eveningwear, followed by his unique take on the patterned dress – floral prints leaking delicately down the garments, leaving artful trails behind. Of course, no glamorous occasion is complete without diamonds and fur and Alber Elbaz isn’t one to hold back; each outfit came with heavy dash of either, or in most cases, an irresistible combination of both. If a statement needs to be made this season, one need look no further than Lanvin. In the true style of Parisian theatre, the show ended with Alber himself taking to the mic with a triumphant rendition of Que Sera Sera, and in this case we couldn’t agree more._ - AY_

Haider Ackermann

Inspired by the autumn leaves outside his house in Antwerp, Haider Ackermann’s show this season was one of romance and nostalgia. Referring to nature as opposed to the cyberistic future he has so often insinuated, it was a sensual and sinuous collection that Ackermann presented to the bellowing croon of Frank Sinatra’s Autumn Leaves. Opening before dusk on such darkened days, the first models stalked out in husky greys, mossy greens and the deepest browns. Like sharp-clawed owls swooping down upon their prey, Ackermann’s use of leather came in sharp distinctive layers, harrowing down to the knee in dagger-like points. But as the sun began to rise, the colours of dawn gradually began to leak in. The dark plums that formed elongated trousers morphed into brassy copper jackets and glowing red coats. When day broke, so did the streaks of blue. But alas, it was a short day typical of the gloomy days of winter, and soon the deep amethyst of night returned in dresses tightly clinched forming shimmering folds, whilst others slipped on in the matt hues reflected by the clouds. The juxtaposition of delicately beautiful fabrics and the powerful constricted waists with sharply flared hips forged an enchanting partnership, the love story between Ackermann’s erotic tones and commanding sense of architecture, sewn together impeccably by his unparalleled sense of draping. This was, undoubtedly, the season’s most alluring love story. - AY