Your guide to Paris Fashion Week AW23

What?
The penultimate show to round off an exhausting but very glam Paris Fashion Week, from the ever wonderful Miu Miu.

Where?
In the Palais d’léna, a handsome building in the 7^th arrondissement. Compared to last season’s techy show setting, this felt much more stripped back, with a white, rectangle runway that had guests sitting either inside or outside of it. Good views all round.

Tell us about the clothes, then.
This was a Miu Miu collection for the die-hard fans: a little bit granny, sometimes romantic, subtly sexy and very, very cool. There was a hurriedness to the first few looks, with Mia Goth’s hair poking out as though she’d stumbled into the office after a long night out, tights tucked into her cardigan (see: frazzled British woman). Then, perhaps as a nod to the quintessential FBW Bridget Jones, there was a sheer nude top just like the one the Londoner wore to the office in the 2001 film.

Every so often, the more salacious looks (deep V‑neck halter dresses, sheer, revealing knickers and sexy secretary specs) were spliced with some very sensible looks: a hoodie, leggings, jackets and trainers that wouldn’t feel out of place on most British high streets. It felt like Mrs. Prada was observing everyday spaces, such as workplaces, libraries and schools, providing clothes that an average person can wear on an average day. If Mia Goth was stumbling into work a little hungover, by the time Emma Corrin closed the show in embroidered knickers and a high-neck jumper, they were ready to hit the town once again. All in a day’s work, eh?

Who walked?
A triangle of stars: Mia Goth, Emma Corrin and Ethel Cain.

And on the FROW?
Kylie Minogue. Never mind the rest.

In a song?
Dolly Parton – 9 to 5

WORDS: TJ Sidhu

What?
The grandest show of ​’em all.

Where?
Louis Vuitton returned to the Musée d’Orsay, perhaps one of the most striking buildings in Paris, famous for housing Impressionist paintings from Monet, Manet, Pissarro and Renoir. Talented blokes.

What were the clothes like?
We noticed shapes, and lots of ​‘em: a semi-circle bib, bulbous sleeves, sharp triangular lapels and a razor-sharp hem on a dress that was piped to stick out like a box. It felt wonderfully odd and typical of creative director Nicolas Ghesquière, all angular, A‑line and off-beat. But really, the creative director was questioning the enigmatic quality of French style that you can’t quite put your finger on – you know, je ne sais quoi.

How do you embody this elusive style? You can couture techniques on ready-to-wear, for one, which was seen on highly-structured dresses that seemed to retain movement, the painstaking embroidery on a knee-length skirt and a ruched camisole, which featured countless hand-sewn diamantés. And then there was its sheer sophistication, with tailoring done to exemplary effect: a furry brown blazer shimmered in the light, a chequered two-piece suit that fell off the body like liquid and huge cocoon-like coats were closed only by a thin leather belt. Elsewhere, there were flashes of red, white and blue on leather motocross gloves and patches on the side of knits, a more obvious nod to the creative director’s home. ​“The French touch never fails to captivate,” said the press notes. Especially when in the hands of Ghesquière.

Favourite piece?
A bag that looks like a very grand building. We’d love a peek through those tiny windows.

In a (French) word?
Superbe!

What?
A black tie collection after a couple of seasons of pink by Pierpaolo Piccioli.

Where?
Hôtel Salomon de Rothschild, where French President Paul Doumer was assassinated in 1932. Tonight though, there were just lots of excited WINWIN fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the singer.

What?
Exactly what it says on the tin: black tie, appropriated through a punky lens. The opening model had a Metallica tattoo and a lip piercing, setting the tone for Pierpaolo Piccioli’s remixed reading of formalwear. This wasn’t just an invitation to a fancy event (although if you are looking for something to wear to a posh shindig, there were more than a few looks to choose from). This was an invitation to re-imagine what black tie could be: for the daytime, the nighttime, the masculine and the feminine.

In a song?
Justin Timberlake – Suit & Tie

In a word?
It has to be ​“tie” really, doesn’t it.

What?
A collection titled ​“Mom, I’m Going Out Tonight” from the French brand.

Where?
A.P.C headquarters in the 6^th arrondissement. Coffee was served and guests mingled in a room covered in graffiti and doodles.

What was it like?
Introduced by founder Jean Touitou and cast entirely with kids from his daughter’s high school (they were responsible, too, for the on-wall doodling), the idea was to give young people a burst of freedom, having spent so long experiencing ​“the raging of the hormones in the parents’ bunker during the Covid crisis.” Rattling through various subculture looks (preppy, gothy, grunge‑y), the kids hit the runway, each delivering their best blue steel and looking genuinely wicked. At the end, they grabbed one another and started dancing as a group. What a great memory to have before they graduate! Perhaps we were tired, but we found the whole thing quite moving.

In a song?
Suicide – Dream Baby Dream.

In a word?
Riotous.

What?
The brand’s first show since the controversy of last year, more of which can be read about here.

Where?
In an extremely stripped back Carrousel du Louvre, covered in white toile. Mounds of mud from a peat bog this was not.

What?
As laid out in the link above, ​“the emphasis is on my love for the craft of making clothes now,” something creative director Demna confirmed in the show notes, writing: ​“fashion to me can no longer be seen as an entertainment, but rather as the art of making clothes.” Demna has been such a huge part of that shift to fashion as entertainment over the last decade, beginning with his work at Vetements, and continuing throughout his time at Balenciaga, via celebrity packed campaigns and spectacle-driven shows. Yet, he’s always remained a master maker of clothes, with his couture collections a particular highlight. If the collection on display here felt comparatively simple, it was the intention. And while some of the more business-as-usual Balenciaga-fare (the jackets and hoodies) felt exactly that, the quite staggering floor-length gowns showed what can be achieved when focusing solely on the clothes.

Any words from backstage?
​“I felt like I betrayed my true value of making clothes because people wouldn’t see the clothes anymore,” Demna said. ​“They would only see the set design and talk about that and that felt really frustrating for me. The idea was to really go away from that and really go [back] to square one for me, which is making clothes and putting that into focus.”

Words: TJ Sidhu

What?
Ludovic de Saint Sernin’s debut show as creative director at Ann Demeulemeester.

Where?
At the Lycée Carnot, a secondary school in the 17^th arrondissement (where Daft Punk met in 1987, actually).

Go on, tell us about the clothes…
Sexy – to be expected, given that de Saint Sernin’s own namesake brand has referenced S&M and homoerotica, and championed a gender-blurring agenda with fabulous men in fabulous miniskirts. It’s a contrast to Ann Demeulemeester’s monumental sartorial history that’s mystical, bewitching, darkly romantic and even aggressive at times. But de Saint Sernin didn’t stray too far from the blueprint, starting with a monochrome palette on a lot of leather: trousers, trenches, gloves, blazers. The designer’s saucy wink to his signature style came most brazenly when women wore tops with just a feather covering their nipples, and sheer dresses that wrapped around the body. Besides those more arty pieces, de Saint Sernin’s debut did retain Demeulemeester’s wearability in the shirts, jumpers and eveningwear, and felt a little pulsating, more underground, as opposed to up in the midnight sky, flying across a full moon with Patti Smith.

In a song?
Nine Inch Nails – Closer

In an innuendo?
Rock hard.

WORDS: TJ Sidhu

What?
The brand’s first show since the passing of Vivienne Westwood.

Where?
The beautiful Hôtel de la Marine in the 8^th arrondissement.

What was it like?
Very moving, with the opening look featuring a top with Vivienne’s image, next to the initials A and V inside a heart. It felt in many ways like a tribute to Vivienne by her husband Andreas, with muse Sara Stockbridge appearing twice and several looks indebted to the designer’s archive: the tweed, the tartan, the corsets, the punkish dog collars and petticoat skirts, many made with antique fabrics collected by Vivienne. What was particularly touching, however, was how Andreas it all felt, too: from the cheeky use of AC/DC’s T.N.T. to the butch fluidity, layering, lederhosen and long johns.

When I interviewed Vivienne for the first time in 2016, I asked her how she felt about the word ​“icon”. ​“Well, I’m not interested,” she replied with typical northern self-deprecation. ​“Ten years after I’m dead, no one will even remember me. It doesn’t matter, I don’t care… This business might still be going. Well, it will be with Andreas. He’ll remember me and make sure it’s Vivienne and Andreas working together.” And so it is. ​“Maybe the most important thing you ever taught me was to put a woman on a pedestal,” wrote Andreas in the beautiful show notes to the collection. ​“You are so cool, darling. So cool.”

What?
The follow up to last season’s possibly unfollowable, most viral fashion moment of the social media age.

Where?
Oh, who cares, let’s cut to what they did.

And?
Firstly, just to say, what a remarkable position to be in. Designers Sébastien Meyer and Arnaud Vaillant have always pushed the innovation, sure, and not averse to big moments (think of that drive-in show from a couple of years back). But do we think they knew just how viral that Bella dress moment would go when they cooked it up last year? God, no. It was probably just one of many things they were working on. Two minutes and some liquid polymer material later and you’re headline news, one of the most watched clips of the year, selling clothes faster than you can make them. So how do you even begin to follow something like that? Well, by making desirable clothes and accessories.

Opening with some really simple pieces of caping (apparently inspired by Little Red Riding Hood), followed by an actual hood (trimmed with faux fur to Rapunzel effect), the collection was indebted to fables, particularly those of 17^th century poet Jean de la Fontaine, and even more particularly, his telling of The Wolf and the Lamb (in which the wolf, err, eats the lamb). This time the antagonists were humans and technology. But they just have easily been the brand and its more theatrical impulses. Which will win? Tonight, it was impulses: the Boston Dynamics robot-dogs, which often pulled the eye away from the fashion. But ultimately it will be the clothes, which feels as though they exist in and engage with the modern world perhaps better than anyone else is doing today

Favourite piece?
The brand’s Swipe Bag, carved out of a 55,000 year old piece of meteorite from the moon. Obviously.

Favourite sight?
The face of Tika the Iggy, as those robot dogs walked out. Poor thing thought she was the lamb.

Words: TJ Sidhu

What?
A triumphant return to Paris for the British house, after showing on home turf and in New York for some years now. It was also a return to the house’s darker, sensual past, but more on that in a bit.

What was it about?
McQueen’s creative director, Sarah Burton, has long been fixated on nature, whether it’s the romance of rolling hills in the country, or the drama and short life cycle of British blooms. This season, she looked at the anatomy of humans, using the orchid as a springboard.

Tell us about the clothes…
This was a knock-out collection from Sarah Burton, who looked to McQueen’s archive and plucked out some of the very best bits. The tailoring, which featured heavily throughout, was cut impeccably – razor-sharp blazers, mourning jackets on men and a return to houndstooth on a two-piece suit, perhaps most memorably used in 2009’s The Horn of Plenty collection, one of McQueen’s darkest shows. It felt like a suitable nod to Savile Row, where the late designer earned his chops in the late-’80s.

There was also menswear corsetry, which reminded us of McQueen’s sexy 1998 show, Untitled (originally called Golden Shower, ​’til sponsors American Express got their knickers in a twist), and a beaded dress reminiscent of the dramatic closing look of the house’s Joan show, also in 1998, where a model stood in the middle of a ring of fire to represent Joan of Arc being burnt at the stake. Burton’s orchid reference, then, was all in the detail: volumes were either neat and tidy or wonderfully chaotic. Some garments were twisted, others slashed, while waists were nipped and trousers were artfully elongated (the house’s infamous bumsters were reversed, for example), a bit like the life cycle of a flower from bud to, well, death.

In a song?
PJ Harvey – Plants and Rags

In a word?
Romance.

WORDS: TJ Sidhu

We interrupt our usual programming to bring you this video from backstage at Kiko Kostadinov.

Staged in a gymnasium in Paris, twin-sister duo Laura and Deanna Fanning’s AW23 @kikokostadinov collection was playful and pretty with a tomboyish edge, packed with zippered jackets, layered pants and a series of tulle adorned, ballet-esque dresses in sherbet hues. They also debuted a new multi strap boot silhouette, the Leila, which is sure to be a mega hit. Brooke McCord

Check out images from the show below.

What?
The latest collection from Irish designer Jonathan Anderson: always inventive, always really good people on the FROW (this time: Luca Guadagnino, Myha’la Herrold, FLO, Josh O’Connor, FACE cover star Chloë Sevingny, and Schitt’s Creek’s Dan Levy and Catherine O’Hara.

Where?
Chuffing miles away, at Château De Vincennes on the outskirts of the 12^th arrondissement. Inside, a white room was populated by cubes of confetti made by Italian artist Lara Favaretto. So fragile, each was protected by its own security guardian (although we did hear reports of someone giving them a good poke on the way out).

And the clothes?
A blur. Literally. Where last season had pixels, this opened with a blurred floral pattern on a simple white dress. According to the show notes, it was a way of stressing ​“that fashion, rather than being about the moment, is about the later. About putting into focus what may seem unclear right now.” Which is what the confetti cubes felt like, too: both delicate (they were held together without glue) and robust (they each weighed half a ton), in focus and ready to be out-of-focus at any moment. Like the men’s show, that ​“favoured a new found simplicity”, this collection was about reduction: a silk duchesse shirt that becomes a dress, a coat that hangs in the flattest, simplest shape possible, a boot that’s boiled down to its crudest form, ready to fall apart – just like the confetti.

In a word?
Reduction.

In a Britpop band?
Blur.

What?
The follow up to last season’s look back at its roots, for French designer Isabel Marant.

Where?
Place Colette, smack bang in the 1^st arrondissement. Plenty of excited fashion fans outside, and plenty of bemused coffee sippers at the café next door.

What was it like?
It certainly got us going. Set to a brilliant performance by DJ Gabber Eleganza and the band Lulu Van Trapp, there was chaos in great measure but a huge dollop of comfort, too. It’s something that feels intrinsic to Marant’s work: both able to make clothes to hibernate at home in, as well as dance all night at a club. No wonder she always attracts such great models: her pieces are sexy and desirable with great cut-outs (a recurring theme this season), colour-palettes (we liked the yellow), and fantastically heavy knits (who knew wool could be so hot?).

In a song?
Anything by Lulu Van Trapp, whose singer put in an excellent shift.

In a word?
Disorder.

What?
The latest collection from American designer Matthew M. Williams, coming up to almost three years into his role at Givenchy.

Where?
Once again, at the French military school in the 7^th arrondissement. Still in active use, Williams is clearly taking no chances with security.

And the clothes?
Can we say his best collection yet? Okay, we’ve said it. It’s on record. This was Williams’ best collection yet. Elegance, glamour, sophistication and confidence made with fittingly military precision. The clothes felt classic in their construction and shape but never pastiche, despite the very explicit nods to the house’s founder Hubert de Givenchy in the use of florals and a new fish motif, both adapted from the designer’s archives. We loved the flashes of green throughout and the way the collection opened up in the second half, showcasing Williams’ own grasp of cool, as well as Givenchy chic.

In a word?
Yes.

What?
A ​“LUNAR DELIVERY” according to the invitation, which arrived in a white box, with a small, metallic Off-White symbol.

Where?
Just off a dual-carriageway, near the Stade Roland Garros, tennis fans. Inside, the venue had been transformed into a lunar landscape with red dust on the floor (which we saw at least one guest ruin their flowing white coat on), a litany of moon rocks, and a huge metallic sphere in the middle of the room. Was it a Chinese spy balloon? Who can say.

And the clothes?
Well, the sci-fi feel continued there. Not in a naff, costume‑y way (you’ll be relieved to hear there were no Spock ears). But a way that tried to envision a new future now. Something that feels intrinsic to the path that Off-White charted under its late founder Virgil Abloh. These were clothes for a brave new world, led by stylist and Dazed editor Ib Kamara, who became Art & Image Director just under a year ago. And you felt his influence most keenly on some of the West African-inspired looks (Kamara was born in Sierra Leone), which felt like a fantastically fresh take on the sci-fi genre.

In a song?
Isao Tomita – Clair De Lune (Suite Bergamasque, No.3).

In a word?
Lunar.

What?
An intimate presentation for a brand more latterly used to all bells and whistles fashion moments.

Where?
A large former-market in the 3^rd arrondissement (it felt more intimate inside, honest, with only 200 or so guests taking their seats on tightly packed, white sofas). Quite a downsize from the 20,000 capacity Jean Bouin stadium of last season, anyway.

And so? Did this reduction continue into the fashion?
It did, actually. This collection was all about stripping Balmain back to the house’s most essential tailoring elements: the silhouette (think: cinched waists, strong shoulders and plenty of volume), the pattern (that maze-like symbol worn by many guests in attendance), and the finishing touches (not least, the pearls, bows and polka dots that adorned this collection’s looks). Of course it still felt luxurious and ornamented, but in a way that felt very true to the history of the brand, too.

In a song?
Frank Sinatra – My Way (it boomed out as creative director Olivier Rousteing took his lap of the room, something we’d like to start doing as we leave the office on a Friday).

In a word?
Heritage.

What?
The ever excellent Swedish brand, currently in the middle of a rich purple patch.

Where?
In a cavernous school hall, decked out to look like a fantasy forest by set designer Shona Heath, with wandering vines and strings of dripping crystals. Guests were greeted with extremely blue drinks on arrival (very nice).

And the clothes?
They picked up where the fantasy forest left off: all earthy tones with the occasional blast of colour (one dress in a blue not too dissimilar to the extremely blue drink). Creative director Jonny Johansson spoke about enjoying ​“the contrast between urban life and nature … [how] nature rubs up against the city very often.” And it’s something the collection conveyed very well, feeling both mystic and magical, but also modern and sexy, with cut-outs and silhouettes that hung to the body. We loved the way the dichotomy continued into the soundtrack by DJ Sarahsson, too: combining analogue and digital, tuba and laptop, to create something visceral and real.

In a song?
Anything by DJ Sarahsson.

In a word?
Fauna.

What?
The first Paco Rabanne show since the death of its namesake founder at the age of 88 last month.

Where?
At the Musée d’Art Moderne, in a room just past one of the largest paintings in the world: Raoul Dufy’s 1937 masterpiece The Spirit of Electricity. Like many guests at Fashion Week, the painting received a facelift following a significant restoration process in 2020.

What went down?
It felt very much like a tribute to the late designer by current artistic director Julien Dossena. The colours, the shapes, the proportions. How the clothes move as they’re worn, from the fur-imitating wool of the opening looks (Rabanne loved working with unusual materials and techniques), to the dresses printed with the works of Salvador Dalí, a friend and compatriot of the designer. Not to mention how they sound, rustling up the runway, whooshing and shimmering thanks to those great metallic decorations-cum-armour that the house is known for. The show finished with five archive pieces, set to audio snippets of Rabanne’s voice. Like the Jetsons reference we made in our Courrèges report below, they still look as futuristic as anything we have now.

In a song?
Saint-Preux – Concerto Pour Une Voix.

In a word (or two)?
Modern art.

What?
The latest collection from Japanese designer Jun Takahashi in the 30^th year of his brand.

Where?
Hôtel Potocki in the 8^th arrondissement, a private residence so grand that in the 19^th century the owner’s horses drank from troughs made of pink marble.

Enough about horses! What did the clothes look like?
Coventry, 1979. Lots of three-button suits, skinny ties and subculture. Even the socks featured the black-and-white check of English record label 2 Tone. Takahashi was paying tribute to the late Terry Hall, lead singer of The Specials, who passed away in December. And the ode was extended to the jackets, which featured the lyrics Enjoy Yourself (It’s Later Than You Think) on the back, as well as the soundtrack, which saw several Specials tracks mixed by FRGMT’s Hiroshi Fujiwara (who, in 1994, released a single with Hall, and whose name we clocked on some of the looks). Extra poignancy was added by the fact that the tracks were mixed with music by innovative ambient composer Manuel Göttsching, who also died in December, and whose record, E2 – E4, also featured a chequered design referenced by Takahashi. No longer a paean to staying out late by a 21-year-old Terry Hall, Enjoy Yourself (It’s Later Than You Think) became a meditation on life and death. To ​“staying in the pink” – something Takashi appears to be doing very well.

In a word?
Check.

In a song?
The Specials – Enjoy Yourself (It’s Later Than You Think).

What?
The latest Courrèges showing from artistic director Nicolas Di Felice, who has done an impressive job since joining the brand a little over two years ago.

Where?
Somewhere in the 5^th arrondissement, in a white room that filled with smoke seconds before the first model walked out (you’ll see where this is going in a second).

And then?
Mirrors! Smoke and mirrors. Even the invite was a circular-looking glass that you later saw hung from the ears, necks and chests of models, reflecting back the phone cameras of the audience. ​“Is the sky blue?” a voice inquired over the speaker, as the first models walked down the runway while texting, their faces illuminated by the glow of their phones. Don’t ask them. Courrèges was founded during the Space Race of the 1960s, that great 15-year stretch from which everything still looks more futuristic than the world we live in now (think: The Jetsons). This show felt like an invitation to look up once more. Not necessarily to the Moon, but at least up from your phone. ​“Do you see me?” the voice said again, as the room fell dark and a light was directed at the mirrors. ​“I see you.”

Who was there?
EmRata, who walked the show, and Avril Lavigne, apparently, who watched (we had sunglasses on and must have missed her).

In a song?
The Supremes – Reflections.

What?
The always spectacular, always smack bang in front of the Eiffel Tower, finish to Tuesday’s shows.

Where?
As ever, by the Fontaines du Trocadéro, with hordes of cars outside and French police trying valiantly to prevent a member of the fashion pack from walking in front of a blacked out Mercedes. Inside the venue, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, in reference to the Hôtel InterContinental, where Yves Saint Laurent presented his collections from 1976: an opulent statement of intent at a time when ready-to-wear was beginning to make haute couture look rather passé, as they say over here. The room smelled amazing, too.

And so? The clothes?
Beautiful, dramatic, exciting. All straight pencil skirts and sheer stockings, angular shoulders that could take your eye out. Even the pocket squares looked sharp. The bold new blazer shapes were what drew the eyes, but there were so many details to wax lyrical about: not least the long scarves that flowed gently behind the models, a soft counterpoint to the hard angles of the tailoring. A brief tartan interlude added a shock of colour. But it was all black everything till the end, met with a standing ovation in some parts of the room.

Favourite piece?
The leather bomber.

In a word?
Precision.

What?
Our first show of Paris Fashion Week AW23 (we didn’t arrive in time for Vaquera on Monday night, but you can watch our interview with designers Patric and Bryn here).

Where?
A huge white tent in the middle of the Jardin des Tuileries, a rather splendid public park (thank you, French Revolution).

Who was there?
Well, it was an early contender for the most bonkers crowd of the season, with hundreds of screaming fans turning up for Blackpink’s Jisoo, who serves as an ambassador for the house. We were pretty sure we saw Pedro Pascal, too, but it just turned out to be a man that looked a lot like Pedro Pascal.

And the collection?
It felt pleasingly ​’50s. But modern, too, presented under a set of what looked like kaleidoscopic rock formations by Portuguese artist Joana Vasconcelos. According to the show notes, Creative Director Maria Grazia Chiuri, who has often paid tribute to women in her work, wanted to ​“delve deeper into French style around three extraordinary personalities: Édith Piaf, Juliette Gréco, and Catherine Dior” (Christian’s sister, who was part of the French Resistance). And that she did, creating a collection that felt classically Dior (the florals; the shapes) but also bracingly modern (the lightness; the metallic thread which gave the fabrics a sort of crumpled look). Just like the women who inspired it.

In a song?
Non, je ne regrette rien.

In a drink?
A black coffee on the Left Bank.