 |
|
 |
Gaultier Gallops to the Chaparral (en Chapeau)
Written by Timothy Hagy, Photography by Alain Rousseau
PARIS, July 8 - On Thursday at high noon, Jean Paul Gaultier gave the sleepy Paris couture season exactly what it needed - a galloping show that rode at full speed from corral to chaparral.
If thigh-high boots laced of lizard and frothing with feathers don't tickle your fancy, riding capes certainly should. Thin-silhouette models sported an infinite variety of them - satin diamonds in patchwork, luscious mink, pheasant feathers, silk mousseline printed in canary yellow Scottish-inspired plaid, and even sterling medallions embroidered into a dazzling train. But it was the undulating motion of the billowing capes, the leather straps wound about the thighs, and majestic draping that curved sensuously around the breasts, which simmered sexual tension - you could almost imagine smoke rising.
From python riding britches, to graceful velvet evening gowns, the cowgirl models sauntered down the ebony runway with plumes sprouting from their Stetsons, capes trailing, boots giving way to stilettos. Each piece was a fantasy in itself, but one particular dress was sewn of silvery gray blue satin and dusted with a fine spray of peacock feathers. Sage green, mesquite brown and burnt mesa orange, the colors made reference to the landscape of the American West - say a canyon in Wyoming at sunrise. Awesome.
Backstage after the show, Jean-Paul took cover from aggressive photographers, but managed to explain "The capes were all about movement and freedom - click, click, clack, couture."
"Wow!" said Val Kilmer, who himself was attempting to evade the persistent paparazzi by darting beside a buffet table laden with hundreds of flutes of gently bubbling champagne.
Having just inaugurated his refurbished headquarters on Rue Saint Martin, Gaultier fittingly pulled off one of his finest shows yet in his new digs. Just as couture seems to be a dying art, there can only be unbridled exhilaration when a designer so brilliantly and unabashedly gallops forward. |
|
|
|
