The fashion industry is like a big old blimp right now. Inflated with product volume, egregious price gouging, and in-your-face brand marketing, it’s fueled by new ideas but moves forward achingly slowly. The bigger-is-better mentality has resulted in a tone-deaf flattening of imagination and dearth of risk-taking. Creative directors at luxury houses are likely feeling crushed by the weighty pressures of the commercial side of the job; on the other end, customers feel overwhelmed by choice and disenchanted by what is often directionless clothing. Because of this, many have lost sight of the pure joy that fashion can unleash—its power to transform and inspire, to communicate, and, more simply, to make us happy for even a few moments in a deeply unsettling world.
So what do we do about it? Inside the industry bubble, we spend way too much time bemoaning mediocrity and not enough time believing in fashion. This week in Paris, the Fall 2024 couture shows offered the opportunity to sift through the mounds of too-big-to-fail visions, toss aside the catty chatter about creative director comings and goings, and just get to the core of the thing. Even if there was a certain great big giant show in the middle of the Place Vendôme to kick things off on Sunday, many of this season’s collections were the antithesis of a jazz-hands approach to clothes, at least in the intentions behind them.
Many of this week’s couture creations spoke to the idea of form instead of theatricality for theatricality’s sake, either by way of spectacular draping or sculptural corsetry or by literally bringing the inside of a garment out and through the use of humble fabrics like jersey, muslin, and nylon. Couture is rarefied and made only for the one percent, but even so, it serves a larger purpose than frivolity. It’s a clear example of the magic that time, dedication, and experimentation can yield in this business.
At Dior, Maria Grazia Chiuri’s Greek goddesses wore uncomplicated, sinuous gowns inspired partly by the Paris 1924 Olympics, which saw women wearing easier-to-move-in jersey fabrics for the first time. Subtle intricacies dotted almost every piece, like the sheer beaded sports tanks worn beneath toga-shaped gowns, or the belting that sat loosely at the hips of wrap skirts. Freedom was the vibe.
Less flowy and fluid was the Chanel collection, designed by the house’s Fashion Creation Studio in the wake of the recent departure of creative director Virginie Viard. Though the show was staged at the Palais Garnier opera house, there wasn’t anything overtly grand about the clothes, save for the opening and closing looks—which featured, respectively, a voluminous black cape and a confectionary wedding gown embroidered with flowers and a touch of tulle at the bodice. Beautiful workmanship was everywhere, from the exaggerated silhouettes of the rich tweed suits to the intricate-but-not-too-glitzy beading and embroidery on jackets and gowns.
Giorgio Armani took a different approach to beadwork at Armani Privé, referencing pearls for his entire couture collection. You could see it in the sheen of his crisp suiting and the pearl buttons on various pieces, as well as the way crystal embroideries amplified a straightforward black, white, and silver palette of sensual gowns, all of which served to remind everyone that Armani, at almost 90, is still a master of his craft. He knows who he is, and while he’s evolved over time, he has never lost touch with his inimitable DNA.
Couture allows designers to flex their creativity, but sometimes they go so big, it starts to feel inauthentic. Like Armani, though, Daniel Roseberry has always found a beautiful symmetry between the craft and the drama, using his talents to infuse his unique modern sensibility into one of the most iconic fashion houses in the world. This season at Schiaparelli, Roseberry still displayed a flair for the dramatic, but focused on 1950s silhouettes from the archives, which were less elaborate and more attuned to the shape and movement of the body.
Roseberry’s Schiaparelli has been rife with viral moments—robot babies and fake animal heads, to name a couple—but it felt like this season, the designer wanted to find a middle ground or a fresh start for Schiaparelli couture. Fitting, then, that one of the most powerful looks in the collection, a black dress with exaggerated shoulders covered in silver feather embroidery, was modeled after a phoenix. But the more subdued shapes and precise constructions were the most impressive, like the red long-sleeved gown with a curved pleated skirt and a deep V-neck, or the corseted dress with a sculpted hip and skirt lining that looked like a million silvery fish gills.
Corsets were key this couture season, especially at Jean Paul Gaultier, home of the high-fashion waist-cincher. Nicolas Di Felice, currently the creative director of Courrèges, guest-designed the fall collection, an edgy, well-executed homage to Gaultier’s unapologetically bold and sexually charged house codes, infused with Di Felice’s own minimalist aesthetic. Sheer fabrics were draped and manipulated to give the appearance that the models were in various states of undress. There was a gorgeous jacket dress that looked twisted and molded to the body. The use of Gaultier’s signature hook-and-eye closures on corsets was multiplied, and cheeky pockets were added to many of the garments, placed close to the center of the waist. (Di Felice’s Fall 2024 collection for Courrèges had naughty pockets too.) It was a far cry from the cone bras and dizzying prints Gaultier is known for, but it spoke volumes about the importance of embracing duality and disruption in fashion.
Di Felice seemed to want to show how strong clothes can be when stripped of decoration. Thom Browne made a similar point in his fall couture collection by focusing on muslin, typically only used for couture samples called toiles. There were still loads of decoration and exquisite handiwork, but done in a way that was intentionally left unfinished, in an effort to explore the limits of perfection and imperfection. Muslin was wrapped around wire, and muslin strips woven meticulously into tweed.
Browne made coats and jackets that looked as though the sleeves were falling off or the paneling turned inside out and fraying at the edges. A Victorian gown was beaded in one section of the torso and thigh to mimic muscles and veins, like a very chic and expensive version of that weird exhibit with human anatomical specimens on display. It was inventive and true to Browne’s singular, whimsical universe, but also felt humble (as humble as couture can be in spirit, of course). By not allowing himself to perfect and finish and tweak, he ultimately challenged himself and took a risk—a refreshing stance in an industry that is hugely risk-averse right now.
Another designer who believes in the courage of his convictions is Demna. His spectacular Balenciaga couture collection was shown in an intimate setting with a soundtrack featuring a guided meditation session. Demna, who meditates every morning, once again drew from founder Cristobal Balenciaga’s history and the house’s archives, channeling specific codes like three-quarter-length sleeves, elaborate millinery, and the cocoon silhouette.
The inspirations manifested in extraordinary gowns and bulked-up trousers made from mundane fabrics like denim and cotton, but made couture through silk scuba lining and nylon. There was a gold gown made of foil, and one designed to hug the body with no seams. The final look was a dress made from 47 meters of nylon, which Demna and his team draped 30 minutes before showtime. Backstage, Demna explained that he wanted it to be “this ephemeral dress, because nobody really needs couture, to be honest.” He added, “To me, it’s about an experience of wearing clothes, and I wanted to further this idea of experience and performance with a dress that will be worn for 15 minutes in this one event.”
Demna also spoke about how this collection underscored his history as a designer and how, with couture, designers are allowed “the luxury of time” to concept and create pieces that are a part of their personal vernacular. Demna’s work is often self-referential, which shouldn’t be viewed as a bad thing in fashion, especially now. The more in tune a designer is with a house’s core values and vision, the more they will have to give, beyond a show or a price tag. A strong identity, for both a luxury house and an individual designer, is key to success today.
And maybe we all need to take stock of that, to give more grace to the designers in this industry, and to shut up for a minute, watch, and listen to the beauty that’s still there. In its purest forms, beyond the performances, it can be a balm if we just let it. Maybe we need a meditation on the humanity of fashion, to remember the soft voice that echoed through the Balenciaga show space, saying, “There are different ways of cultivating joy and a sense of happiness at all times in life.”
Brooke Bobb is the fashion news director at Harper’s Bazaar, working across print and digital platforms. Previously, she was a senior content editor at Amazon Fashion, and worked at Vogue Runway as senior fashion news writer.
