There’s a story about the famous Paris nightclub Le Palace—perhaps apocryphal—that Grace Jones was once stripped naked by fans there and wrapped herself in a scarf handed to her by none other than Yves Saint Laurent before she took the stage to perform. It was that kind of place, the kind of place that Paris and New York just don’t make anymore, and it was the inspiration for Jean Paul Gaultier’s show today. There were no antics of the Jones sort, but with the models giving one another the side-eye as they sidled by, slapping each other high-five, smoking, and sipping champagne, it did count as the most raucous show of the week. Gaultier is good for that kind of thing.
This was a good Gaultier show, without the camp theatrics of last July’s crepe couture and full of the kind of clothes that many of us would enjoy wearing to go nightclubbing. Pieces like a fully embroidered men’s smoking jacket sashed at the waist with a silk braid and tassels; a tuxedo made from white marabou feathers trimmed in black bugle beads worn with fishnets instead of pants; and a one-shoulder lace-edged cape covered in crystals. Though undoubtedly a lot of work went into these items, the overall attitude wasn’t precious. Quite the opposite: An oversize souvenir jacket was tossed casually over a sequined dress; another evening number was topped by a jean jacket; there were shorts. Bleached denim and silk that looked like bleached denim formed the basis of a handful of looks.
You got the feeling that Gaultier wasn’t taking things too seriously. Outliers such as a chartreuse robe layered under a blue beaded body-con dress could’ve sagely remained back in the atelier. Still, when he puts his mind to it, he can cut one hell of a suit. The frilled lapels on an otherwise crisp wool jacket took all the business out of its pinstripes. The fit on a black crepe sheath with orange lace spilling out of a slit in the back was pretty divine, too.
