Paris fashion week impressions

The last week of the fashion season was overwhelming in many ways. There were beautiful clothes. There was a generous amount of gossip that stained my otherwise exciting and sparkling idea of a beautiful week. And there were a couple of disappointments and a few surprises, too.

It was very difficult to pick a few favourites this time – it feels unfair not to mention certain designers in fear of running out of blog space. I am condensing it to the bare minimum of words and photos in hope to preserve the essence and memories of this special time without making you fall asleep right here, on your keyboard…

My absolute favourites (in alphabetical order) included…

…the dreamy, romantic, floaty, origami pleated, cool blue and delicately printed Cacharel.

…excessive in quantities and pearls, feminine, sweet and beautifully embroidered Chanel.

…very French (or better yet, Parisian), light as air, garnished with most gorgeous floral applique and beautifully accessorised Chloe.

…the sober and elegant day wear and out of this world sparkling gowns at Elie Saab.

… sunny, adorable, 1960s-inspired Louis Vuitton.

… beautiful, minimalistic in a way, until you see the finishing touches of elaborate embroidery or sequins sparkling in the dark, unfolding into a fantasy, Valentino collection. The simple silhouettes and stunning details made those clothes absolutely timeless.

…Vanessa Bruno for its Parisian feel, colours, carefree attitude, mix of floating silks with structured leather jackets and wish-list worthy footwear.

And talking of ultimate spoilers…

First of all, Christian Dior show. I was looking forward to it. I was very excited and my heart wanted to be in love (and so did my mind, if I am honest). I didn’t get the collection. It confused me. It made me think of the previous Haute Couture show, table cloth, badly fitted footwear and, ironically, the smoking jacket (yes, the Yves Saint Laurent smoking jacket).

I know Raf is a lovely man and I know everyone loves him. I totally understand the enthusiasm that comes with the new era of Christian Dior.

I just don’t like the clothes.

The second bad memory formed after John Galliano show designed by Bill Gaytten. It was sad, bizzare and messy, although the music was good. It felt like a funeral. I am trying really hard to brush off the feeling, but so far failing miserably.

And then there was also Yves Saint Lauren by Hedi Slimane. Or should I refer to it as Saint Laurent by Hedi Slimane? Or Saint Laurent? Apparently there is a huge difference now and one is supposed to use a certain names when referring to specific topics.

The collection itself was wonderful, fantastic, in fact, because it made me think of Yves and his aesthetics and signature pieces (the smoking, the blouse and bows, pea jacket, jumpsuit and Saharienne). It made me think of all things bohemian. It reminded me of the Opium years (as a perfume, not the other thing). I loved the jewellery and the shoes – I imagine those statement pendant necklaces being used a lot in editorials comes spring and becoming another must-have item.

What I didn’t like was the gossip that followed. All that open letter nonsense. It became too personal and too bitter. It spoilt the overall impression.

And that is it. The Paris Fashion Week. It’s over now and so is my post. Thank you for reading.

Photo source: vogue.com, style.com