“Are they screaming J.Lo,” asked the girl next to me.

“God I hope not. I think they’re screaming ‘Let’s Go!’”

We’re inside la Halle Freyssinet, a convention-like center on the outskirts of Paris for the Valentino show. And though everyone’s seated (it’s a small show, the first I’ve been to with no standing at all), the lights are dimmed and the show was supposed to start almost an hour ago, nothing’s happening.

“Madonna better walk through that door,” I mutter.

“I mean who could it be?” someone asks, until a pouf of bright red hair dashes through security and the photographers start booing Grace Coddington. The crowd cheers over their boos, whistling their support, Kenneth Anger’s films play on the white walls and within seconds, lace and ruffles storm the runway.

It looks like Pier Paolo Piccioli and Maria Grazia Chiuri took the success of Chloé Sevigny’s Golden Globes dress and ran with it. There are ruffled dresses, skirts, tops and leather dresses, paired mostly with lace and studded heels. The show closes with two stunning dresses–one in Valentino red with nude ruffles and a layered sheath with embroidered beads that looks like the most decadent pastry.

I’ve promised Kate that if/when I crash the Oscars I’ll wear Giles, but I might change my mind for Jac’s closing look.