Daniel Jeffreys in Milan: I have good news. Milan was much more upbeat than last season, even if the theme was 'heritage' and the silhouettes were retro to the point of pastiche or mockery. Had Paris recovered its joie de vivre?
Divia Harilela in Paris: Yes! And what fantastic clothes. Designers expressed differing views of femininity, whether the models wore sleek minimalist clothes, masculine tailoring, protective gear or had their breasts and curves on show. It made for a dynamic and interesting season. The message here was about empowering women.
M: Miuccia Prada embraced the female form with a collection that was all beehives, balloon skirts, nipped bodices and breasts refashioned as erotic projectiles. I thought I had wandered into an episode of Mad Men right down to the 1960s comic-book images beamed onto the walls. You have to hand it to Prada, she likes to entertain but I wonder how wearable it all is.
P: Marc Jacobs also embraced womanly curves at Louis Vuitton but in a far more pleasing way. You were fooled into thinking it was springtime - the sun was shining and there was a fountain surrounded by a circular catwalk in the tent. It was like a scene from a Federico Fellini film with the models' breasts spilling out from corsets. The bouncy ponytails and billowing hips in 50s-style tea skirts had a touch of Doris Day, even though Jacobs cited Brigitte Bardot as his inspiration. Neat jackets and cool cable knits were more modern. Accessories were minimal - besides chic short gloves and modest pumps, each girl carried the brand's best-selling Speedy in new materials (oiled croc, anyone?) and shapes. It was beautiful although I felt the pain of the casting agent - where did he find all those ripe bodies in Paris?
M: Prada didn't bother with bodacious bodies - she just pumped up the silhouettes with artful tailoring. My favourite was the outfit that opened the show in which the soft wool used for the bust had been shaped with exquisite architectural skill. The model's breasts looked like ice-cream cones designed by Frank Gehry. More wearable were the twin sets with layered colours, dresses in autumn gold or the moss green of an October forest, a suit made from coffee-coloured PVC and an evening dress with heavy black beading. Legs were sheathed in rich woollen tights made with the same cable knit as mountaineers socks. A brightly coloured line was woven down the middle of each leg, resembling mustard on a hot dog. And, as one has come to expect from Prada, the shoes were transcendent, with cute butterfly bows and pilgrim buckles.
Watching all this retro-ocity one wondered, has creativity been completely overrun by the archive? Did Paris have any moments of genuine genius?
P: Fashion's mad genius here is Nicolas Ghesquiere. At Balenciaga, there were so many new fabrics that editors were left speechless. On a futuristic, light-box runway he sent out rounded knits with colour blocks or stripes that looked moulded, almost stiff. Newspaper headlines in primary colours came printed on a series of geometric tops that morphed into unzipped trousers, topped with a cropped jacket. The fabrics were light years ahead - quilted shaved fur, stamped cashmere, neoprene, perforated leather and some that looked like packing material - all constructed with his couture craftsmanship. And the Lego heels! People are still talking about them.
