The well-shod guests stepped out of their cars and onto a wide sidewalk that ran alongside a busy street abutting the Seine. The Eiffel Tower was lit up just across the river.
The guests’ destination was a grand black tent — like something the White House might erect for a state dinner — and the path to it was designated by a long, black carpet flanked by well-groomed men in black, holding matching umbrellas against the night’s gentle drizzle.
Inside, flutes of champagne awaited. And waiters held silver platters of dark-chocolate macarons embossed with the letter B.
Balenciaga was the first of this city’s venerable fashion houses to show its spring 2015 collection, and all the formality leading up to designer Alexander Wang’s 10-minute presentation was meant to mark its importance.
As fashion shows go, at least those here, Balenciaga’s was a rather understated display of luxury. Still, the fantasy was made plain. Inside the warmly lit tent, the banquette seats were upholstered in black satin, and the air smelled sweet and musky. It was the scent of B., Balenciaga’s eau de parfum. Women posed like exotic birds cloaked in pale-blue feathers, pink marabou and glittering jewels. Everyone was a photo-op.
As time ticked by, guests settled into their seats. Each person hunched forward in a question mark of anticipation. We waited.
At about half past the appointed eight o’clock hour, big men in suits appeared in the doorway: The Kardashian-Wests and their faux reality had arrived, making this strange world odder still. Kanye’s hair was clipped and shaved like a corn maze; Kim was carrying baby North, whose diamond studs were larger than ones in your fantasy engagement ring, and she was already inured to flashing lights and cacophony. The photographers popped off a round of shots, and finally the show began. But in this unreal world, would there be anything real to see?
The models walked onto a square, transparent runway, under which smoke swirled in the murky light. Their skirts fell to mid-calf and the coats swung at a similar length. Sculptural mesh tanks — like a body-caressing cage — were layered over light dresses or sat atop short shorts. Dresses were a study in technique — single garments that incorporate ruching, embroidery, diamond-shaped paillettes and intricate seams. The dresses were as snug as tubes and hugged the body — most noticeably, the bum.
There were parts of the collection that were almost minimalist and vaguely humanistic, such as a short-sleeved, white dress with decorative seams forming a diamond pattern. But mostly, the collection projected into the future — a land of perfect cyborgs and smouldering cities.
Wang’s great strength since arriving at Balenciaga in 2012 has been infusing the storied house with energy, optimism and an elegant informality. This collection had an abundance of technical wizardry, but its silhouettes were often constraining and its use of colour lethargic. But most important, there was no sense of place. Where were these trussed up women going? As one observer noted, it was easy to image Kim Kardashian West wearing several of the dresses. And that may be true. But she is also about as unreal as real life can get.