I guess one has to be clear about one wants from the onerous brouhaha of seasonal Haute Couture. It’s fine to say that there is such a thing as l’air du temps that we all steep into, designers included, or that we just want well-crafted, flattering silhouettes in our closets (which we do, of course). But again, old-fashioned Parisian twit that I am, I still look to the Créateurs for creation.
If you’re going to drag me into the shark pit and present me with a multi-million dollar endeavor, don’t just show me expensive versions of outfits I already own. I want you to have an IDEA, an original idea, and pursue it, explore it, almost destroy it, stretch it to the edge of its possibilities and come back from the cliff with its optimal expression. That’s asking a lot, I know. But for the love of fashion I want to be surprised. I’d love to be convinced, of course, but I’d rather be reluctantly intrigued by something new that won over by something I already loved. There are storefronts for that. Other women’s closets. Year-round. This is Fashion Week.
