Stanley Moss
Typical reports on the runway shows in Paris focus on fashion fashion fashion. We need to be reminded that months of preparation precede this 20-minute walk in the sun, an atmospheric explosion of sound and light and motion.
Lucire was invited by Westwood’s Director of Couture, Brigitte Stepputis, and we sailed in past the crowds waiting for standing-room places, and amid the hustle-bustle were escorted to our numbered seats as the room filled with gawkers. Runway shows typically start late, and this was no exception with the lights going down and the strobes starting up an hour past the announced time.
In a full room like this it gets crowded and hot and humid pretty quickly, and the velocity at which the ensembles arrive explains why pro shutterbugs use motor drives. It starts fast, the impressions are of the details and not the entirety, and it’s over almost before it begins, there’s Vivienne among the models accepting the applause, then poof! The lights go up, the smoke clears, and the real insiders head for the after-party upstairs jockeying for free champagne as the reporters crowd around Vivienne, microphones thrust at her, hungry for a sound byte or an exclusive angle. She’s gracious about it all, smiling all the way and nodding at her confidants.
Outside on the street the buyers, the students, the wannabes stand at the curb waiting for cabs, debating whether they need to take a metro, and if there’s enough time to get to the next show over at the Tuileries. We took a walk backstage where the staff were busy bagging dresses, and the models were about to head to their next bookings. Much like the show itself, it was a Renaissance carnival of styles and personalities, a figment and a fantasy of something which may or may not have occurred in this reality.—Stanley Moss, Travel Editor, and Paula Sweet
Stanley Moss
Stanley Moss
Paula Sweet
Paula Sweet