Backstage at Balmain, Olivier Rousteing fielded a kiss from Pamela Anderson, hugs from his models—Natalia Vodianova opened, Natasha Poly closed—and a gazillion urgent congratulations from the rest of us, the gently sweating mwah-mwah-darling throng. Waiting quietly nearby were Rousteing’s elderly parents, who adopted, raised, and loved him. The designer registered them as he was being pulled away to some other vital ciao: He diverted, swooped, and planted a huge kiss on his mother’s cheek. His father gleamed on benevolently. They have a good vibe.
Rousteing’s surface life is there for all to see on Instagram. Today, he gave us a rare glimpse into his internal landscape. Immediately before the show he said, “I am trying to impress myself but also trying to impress my audience. Because I think I have a sensation in my body that I always had. When my parents adopted me, at night I was always putting on my pajamas before [going to bed] because I was scared that they would bring me [back to the orphanage] again. I always need love, to be loved and appreciated.”
As root causes of fear of rejection go, that runs straight to the heart. Of course, Rousteing’s parents never did reject him. And many love his Balmain—the sales figures reveal it. Today, Rousteing was discussing his parents because of his choice of venue, the Palais Garnier. It was here, at age 10 on his first trip to Paris with them, that he had his Damascene conversion to fabulousness.
He said: “We came first for a visit, and we saw the ballet. I was really impressed. I said, ‘That’s what I want in my life, that’s what I feel . . .’ La splendeur Parisienne. And I would never have believed that 20 years later, I would have the chance to show my collection here. To have the chance to design for the ballet—I went on the stage with the dancers in front of 2,000 people! It was the dream come true . . . and having Brigitte Macron wear my clothes!”
For Rousteing to perform in the building that first fired his desire to design was both satisfying and revealing. For Garnier’s opera house is, not unlike Rousteing’s fashion house, an unabashedly opulent quintessence of decorative grandiosity. The collection followed summer’s menswear in paying homage to La France via Breton marinière stripe rendered in monochrome paillette and softer stripes sometimes worn, also in sequin, over frayed bouclé shorts. These shorts were part of an unusual-for-Balmain section of daywear—but not every-daywear—that featured sweaters with V necklines so deep they ran almost to the ankle, atelier-encrusted frayed crop tops over gold studded leather pants, and check bouclé dungarees.
At the end, Rousteing came out with all his models behind him, a blur of feather and tuft and pin and gold and frayed graphic (meant to reflect the ripped flyer posters with which Paris is always plastered). Rousteing had played with new shapes, and one was a close long dress with a spurt of layered ruffle at the hem. Totally eye-catching, but movement-constricting, too. Luna Bijl wore the tightest example, her legs closely encased in black mesh, and simply could not keep up with her fellows—but with wry game face, she persevered up the pale deep-pile carpet. As she did, and we clapped, we started to laugh: not at her, or the dress, but with her and the dress. Rousteing does not have to worry about his pajamas any more.
