The absolute fantasy procedure in this fashion-show-reviewing gig would be that you’d go to the show, see the stuff, chat with the designer, truffle around for amusingly illustrative side details—and then immediately retire to a hermetically sealed room to let it all pour forth in a stream of pure, monochrome symbols that express the collection’s essence.
But that doesn’t happen. Your lens gets smudged by the follow-up that occurs before you write. Since this Charlier show, for instance, I’ve been to Alexandre Vauthier (written it); Alessandra Rich (gotta write it); had a fight with a ticket machine in the metro; visited the awesome secret roof terrace of the Palais de Tokyo; and been to Celine, which is all I’m really seeing as I look at my notes on Charlier.
Now, you might reasonably demand: How is this relevant to Charlier? The answer is in the absence that Slimane’s Celine represents. In one fell swoop, the changing of the guard at that house has both aggressively reasserted Slimane into a womenswear genre he indubitably commands, and left a vacuum in the form of Philo’s departure. There must be so many Philo-iteration Celine women feeling disenfranchised tonight, and for them there are several houses and designers (including Tisci’s Burberry, Loewe, Max Mara, Marni, and Rejina Pyo—my tip for greatness) who are there, poised, ready, and all too willing to give them something new to subscribe to.
Charlier should be added to that list. This was a classically inspired collection held at the Belgian ambassador to France’s residence that was swooningly grown-up and womanly yet retained a playfulness rooted in a profound instinct for fashion. The shoes, wide-hewn leather sandals clinking with hardware, were awesome. The printed pieces featuring vaguely homoerotic frescoes of six-packed Greeks relaxing thermae-side were both playful and wearable. The richly Neapolitan-inspired jacquards starring pineapples and parakeets, overlaid with pinning and stud, were both lavish and subtle. A back-paneled safari shirtdress with elongated hem, and a layered dress in pale blue masculine shirting later reiterated in green twill, were clever treads on the tightrope between him and her. If you haven’t really paid attention previously, check Charlier out.
