PARIS--Lacroix is back, ladies and gentlemen--sans
Bernhard Willhelm did his usual nutty number: the Solomon de Rotschild private mansion in Paris was taken over and transformed into a gigantic performance that looked like Willy Wonka going off to the jungle.
Although the clothes weren’t exactly the center of the show, we remember cello tape, fluo, spandex and face paint. Coming out of the show, we heard photographers complain that it was impossible to shoot the clothes. We pondered loud presentations: yea or nay? Sure, they’re fun, but are they a trick to distract you from the actual garments?
Ann Demeulemeester has a crush on Edward Scissorhands--or at least that what we concluded when we saw an army of boys with mad hair extensions and gardening-inspired gloves. The collection was dark yet soft: transparent silks, navies and oranges dominated the show. Deconstructed suits and waistcoats were punctuated by spots, dots, and lines. Fit for any Tim Burton fan.