PARIS — Could it possibly be a simple coincidence, wondered fashion insiders looking for clues that might confirm rumors McQueen designer Sarah Burton has been chosen to design Kate Middleton’s top-secret royal wedding dress, that the label’s fall-winter 2011-12 show began with an all-white look?
Burton and the label’s chief executive have both denied the rumors, which surfaced last week in Britain’s Sunday Times. But those crossing their fingers that they’ll prove true found lots to give them hope in the show — not least, two gleaming white dresses with long trains of frothy tulle that looked suspiciously like wedding gowns.
Speculation over the identity of the designer Middleton has chosen for her April 29 wedding to Britain’s Prince William finally eclipsed the constant chatter about John Galliano’s spectacular fall from grace. The British designer was fired from his position as creative director of the house of Dior amid allegations he made anti-Semitic insults and after a video showing him, drunk, slurring the words “I love Hitler” was posted on the Internet.
Galliano was sacked after 15 years at Dior on the first day of Paris’ nine-day-long ready-to-wear collections, and the scandal has thrown a persistent pall over the collections, which have failed to generate as much excitement in seasons past.
Many were hoping the Chanel display Tuesday would pull the City of Light out of its funk, but the mod-vibed clothes failed to electrify. Still, Chanel’s blockbuster productions set the bar so high that even on the rare occasions when the clothes disappoint, the audience still emerges drop-jawed and starry eyed.
The new design team at Valentino forged ahead on their own path that took them away from the label’s traditional stalking grounds — the red carpet — and toward a younger, lower-key place. Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli refined their soft, featherweight silhouettes in layered chiffon and lace.
Under retired founder Valentino Garavani, the label sent out so many statement gowns in tomato red that the color became known as “Valentino red,” but the shade was completely absent from Tuesday’s collection in neutral tones. The reddish-brown on a leather coat and some of the see-through chemisier dresses was the closest thing to the label’s namesake shade on the nude, ecru and caramel-dominated collection.
Alexander McQueen
With the Middleton mystery hanging in the air, a collective shiver swept the crowd when the first model stepped onto the runway dressed in head-to-toe white. A volley of meaningful glances shot around the room as the looks that followed — fur-trimmed pencil skirts and nipped-waist jackets with zippers in lieu of seams — were also in gleaming white.
No matter that the collection also included a fair share of black, not to mention plentiful hardcore bondage touches, like the sculptural leather horse harnesses that encircled some of the looks and stood a fair chance of raising an eyebrow or two in palace protocol.
Those rooting for Burton — who was appointed the label’s creative director after founder Alexander McQueen committed suicide last February — saw Tuesday’s collection as a good omen. Burton, 36, had worked closely with McQueen for years, and her debut collection, shown last October, was lauded by the press for managing the tricky task of tapping into the late designer’s creative genius, while softening McQueen’s signature hard edges and letting out his painfully nipped waists by a notch.
Chanel
Chanel has the deepest pockets in the business, and its megaproduction runway shows are always awesome spectacles — even when the clothes they showcase leave the audiences feeling a tad perplexed.
That was the case with Tuesday’s fall collection, a parade of post-punk pantsuits and wide-cut jackets in charcoal and black tweed by designer Karl Lagerfeld that at first glance looked like a harder sell than the pretty pastel skirts and snug tweed jackets that women worldwide lust over.
But even if the clothes themselves didn’t take the crowd’s breath away, the set did. Paris’ mammoth glass-and-steel domed Grand Palais was transformed into a boulder-strewn volcanic island, complete with faux steam that wafted out from beneath the wooden catwalk and wide expanses of powdery synthetic volcanic ash strewn with fake boulders.
Models walked the boardwalk in ample pleat-fronted tweed trousers and dramatic capes or wide, cropped jackets that looked like the chunky cousins of the house’s hallmark slim-fitting jackets. They wore flat, pointy shoes with chunky socks that bunched at the ankle.
