There were also some bad ones, like Virginie Viard’s mall mom 1980s bouclé bombers, bazooka-pink stonewashed pleated denim and heavy-handed graffiti prints at Chanel. Juxtaposed against the 40ft-high “Chanel” tricked out in Hollywood lights that served as a set, and the 1930s champagne bubble frocks that swanned out for the finale, the show felt as if it had two different personalities, one Coco, one Karen (also a problem: the fact that of the 70 models in the show, almost all were white, a glaring leap backward in an industry where efforts to address systemic racism have often seemed too little, too late).
And there was a debut. Matthew Williams took the reins at Givenchy with a low-key laying out of totems that will be his building blocks for the brand: a heavy lock, like the locks that bedeck the bridges of Paris to represent eternal love; the exacting shoulders of the Givenchy founder with a triangle sliced out at the seam, the sleeve dropped to the biceps; horn heels from the Alexander McQueen years; and some subversive richesse from the Galliano regime.