PARIS — As giant chandeliers bathed the shiny black outdoor runway in golden light and the Eiffel Tower sparkled in the background, Saint Laurent sent out a river of gold.
Catherine Deneuve, Kate Moss, Hailey Bieber and Rami Malek attended the extravagant show, while elsewhere at Paris Fashion Week, Jennifer Lopez took her place in Stella McCartney’s rain-soaked gardens. Rihanna appeared for starters at conceptual fashion house Matières Fécales, which translates to “fecal matter.”
Whatever its financial problems – and they are many – Paris has retained its ability to put together spectacular front rows and impressive stages this season.
By the middle of the spring-summer 2027 period, the demonstrations crystallized into three stories: grandiosity on a grand scale; great dressing; and an industry that applies couture technique on T-shirts and jeans and asks itself anxiously who all this is for.
Last month, cosmetics giant L’Oréal overtook LVMH as France’s most valuable listed company. It was the first time since 2017 that a non-luxury company rose to the top of the Paris stock exchange.
Saint Laurent parent Kering has returned to growth after a severe downturn, but Balenciaga remains under pressure and Gucci is still struggling to reverse years of falling sales after its runway shine.
Gold was almost the whole story at Saint Laurent on Tuesday night.
Gold appeared brittle, fluid, translucent, or heavily worked. Safari jackets and trench coats were made from crinkly metallic cotton fabrics. Cocktail dresses featured shiny lace and brocade short jackets. Stilettos stood on snake-shaped heels.
Then came the black finale, led by Polish supermodel Anja Rubik; this was a reversal of Yves Saint Laurent’s 1991 all-gold closing scene.
Charlotte Gainsbourg took to the podium to sing, adding an intimate ending to the monumental setting.
Celebrating ten years at the house, designer Anthony Vaccarello foregone his customary interviews and let the collection carry the occasion.
Its retrospective tone invited speculation about a farewell, but the show did not feature any departure announcements.
Two days later, Chloé approached excess through texture.
Chemena Kamali stacked the broderie with lace, pearls and tassels and sent out raincoats and long-brimmed fisherman hats in vibrant colors. The ruffled sleeves made an emphatic argument about volume.
Bright outerwear interrupted the sweetness.
The question was how much decorating Chloé’s easy-dressing promise could comfortably carry.
McCartney’s show, meanwhile, rewarded its damp audience with easy sewability, coral-like knit forms and airbrushed dolphins on denim.
Sculptural hems and peplums gave the clothes buoyancy underwater, while naturalist David Attenborough’s voice conveyed the message of ocean conservation.
In fact, the peplum was one of the week’s constants; where it appeared as a sculpture and was tailored as a shirt at Balenciaga.
The strongest pieces combined this theme with McCartney’s familiar sporty comfort: loose tailoring, drawstring details and clothes that allowed room to move.
Underwear was gradually increasing the share of dressing on the catwalks.
Haider Ackermann put on a particularly fun show at Tom Ford: Bare breasts, fishnets, heavily scaled-down swimsuits and silk dresses accompanied by sharp tailoring. Black swimsuits were more about geometry than clothing.
A male model dressed in a sweater and pale pink thong carried a vicuna coat rolled up over his weekend bag.
Ackermann extended the house’s familiar sexual confidence across men’s and women’s clothing, keeping the tailoring precise enough to give structure to all this display.
At Balmain, Antonin Tron built a stronger second outing around mid-century backstage photographs and their ostentatious half-dress vibe: corset bodices, suspenders dangling from miniskirts, bras under shrunken satin bombers, eel skin and animal-print jacquards.
His references ranged from Jim Morrison to Michel Foucault’s LSD experiments in California.
Simulated rain hit the closed windows of Karl Lagerfeld’s former mansion.
Prints, embroidery and sequins gave depth to surfaces, but their richness sometimes competed with the sensual drapes that were one of Tron’s strengths.
Even Rick Owens went boudoir on his own terms: He sent stone-colored column dresses, studded tulle, crystal-laden shoes, and full-body tulle-and-elastic constructs down a ramp across from the Palais de Tokyo’s reflecting pool.
The question underlying all this was harder to pose: How can luxury justify itself in a time of crisis?
Pierpaolo Piccioli’s answer at Balenciaga was technical.
Dense rows of stitching transformed a white shirt into a waist-high and flared peplum.
A T-shirt received similar treatment. Jeans were cut diagonally across the fabric to alter their fall.
Shown in broad daylight at the Tennis Club de Paris, the collection made a convincing case for transferring couture knowledge to everyday use.
Designers Hannah Rose Dalton and Steven Raj Bhaskaran took over the Place de la République for a show titled “The 99 Percent.”
The collection brought together sari-inspired flowing fabrics, shredded denim, and figures designed to evoke masked entertainers.
The finale featured a woman in a gold lamé dress carrying two slumped mannequins of white men in suits.
Public access was part of the proposal.
The irony was hard to miss: 99% of the world can’t afford Matières Fécales’ clothes.
Paris had shown people what to look like, but it’s the clothes that the industry hopes will persuade them to spend.