I was a little apprehensive to board a plane last January following the Christmas bomber who tried to set his pants on fire.
It was time to head for Paris for the Spring/Summer 2010 Haute Couture Collections, where fashion is frequently rigged to explode and hot pants are quite normal; furthermore, body scans are not far off.
I boarded my flight at SFO under the gaze of about eight policemen. Lucky they had no x-ray eyes. They assured me that this was quite normal.
At Heathrow, we were ordered to remain in our seats as the police were coming on board. We never found out the reason.
In Paris, La Securité was much in evidence, in jolly groups, frequently gesticulating, as only the French do, clutching machine guns…
Unlike the U.S.A., people in Paris were shopping. Similar to the U.S.A., beggars and homeless were highly visible.
These were the high and low points during the days of high fashion:
Alexis Mabile—A designer who created a buzz last season, this time he could not decide on a color. So he divided women in the middle—one half red (or blue or yellow), the other half black. Including shoes and hair. Those poor models must have had a hard time washing the red (or blue or yellow) from one side of the parting.
At Christian Dior, John Galliano the equestrian, with model from the turn-of-some-century. Hats by Stephen Jones, O.B.E.
Christian Dior—John Galliano ignited us with a blast from the past: from the turn of some century, not this one, he introduced cocottes in glorious dresses and very grand riding costumes. The hats, by Stephen Jones—who just received the Order of the British Empire from Queen Elizabeth II in the New Year’s Honours—were truly explosive and divine.
The architect Peter Merino, in full black leather fetish, including a black leather sling for an injured arm, chatted with Dita von Teese, also in black leather fetish including above-the-elbow gloves.
Outside the House of Dior, a fashion freak dressed in Middle Eastern garb above the waist, a pair of baby blue boxer shorts, and Nina Ricci Crescent Moons played the fiddle.
Armani Privé—The invitation said 7:30 p.m. The time was changed to 9:30, but only VIPs (I am not one) were informed. No matter, time to catch up with Tatiana Sorokko over cups of mint tea. The Armani Privé collection was structured and inspired by the moon. Noun not verb.
Chanel—Karl Lagerfeld was Der Rosenkavalier. He gets younger and more rococo each season. Silver was the running theme, over pinks, blues, lemon yellows—even over the fois gras served after the show.
A French television personality, Alexandra Golovanoff of Paris Première channel (‘La Mode La Mode La Mode’), was decked out in full Chanel, including black satin hot pants. She did not blow up, but instead interviewed Karl with Tavi Gevinson, a strange little thirteen-year-old blogger from Chicago, with grey hair and a blue rinse. Tavi’s age varies from day to day. Eight? Pre-teen? Thirteen? As does her accreditation. Brought over by Dior? Vogue?
Chanel Pre-Collection—In case you are wondering what this hybrid is, it’s not Haute Couture, but ready-to-wear, to be delivered to shops around July.
The Collection was displayed in Coco Chanel’s apartment at 31 rue Cambon. Mannequins dressed in the clothes and still-life arrangements of accessories were scattered around the apartment.
The caveat was, do not photograph the apartment, just the clothes. I was followed around by an increasingly angry Chanel minion, who managed to be in three rooms at the same time, checking on my snapping.
Saint-Hill and Von Basedow—Who? Good question. The British ambassador, Sir Peter Westmacott and his American wife lent their residence on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré to display the “New Spring/Summer 2010 Collection Presentation and Retrospective of the Last British Haute Couture House in Existence.”
Dare I say more? Dare I dispute the claim? I dare not. But I dare say, it was inspired by bunches of orchids.
Givenchy—We waited. And waited. Kanye West and Amber Rose waited; Stella Tennant—who proves that after she has seen Paree she can go back to the farm and appear without makeup—waited; Tavi Gevinson waited; seventy minutes after starting time, the press booed the arrival of—Naomi Campbell, says the man next to me.
Only it was not Naomi, but R & B singer Ciara. The next day she was quoted in WWD: “I’m so happy I was able to be on time—well, sort of.” She must be channeling Naomi.
Riccardo Tisci’s Givenchy was elegant, especially the tailored tails and the final exit, a hand pleated lilac and purple silk organza dress worn by Natalia Vodianova.
On Aura Tout Vu—The motif was playing cards, and, as with last season, it was very pretty with the finest workmanship.
Design trio Livia S. Stoinova, Yassen V. Samouilov, and André de sà Pessoa produce happy clothes in a happy atmosphere.
Caroline Fabre Bazin wearing a chèvre lustrée (shiny goat) skirt by Azzedine Alaïa
Azzedine Alaïa—As usual, Alaïa’s influence is everywhere. He also has a new dog, Didine, an enormous fluffy fifteen-month-old Saint Bernard, still growing, who eats three meals a day, including a whole chicken for lunch, “no skin no fat,” with carrots.
When Didine stretches out next to the table, his length is three-plus chairs.
Alaïa, who marches to a different drummer, was all set to show his accessories the day after Haute Couture.
No matter, his beautiful assistant, Caroline Fabre Bazin, received us wearing an enormous—and flattering —chèvre lustrée (shiny goat) skirt from the 2006 Fall/Winter collection.
Azzedine fed us royally in his kitchen. Gilles Bensimon, the great photographer and international creative director of ELLE, dropped by and we heard dish that was as delicious as the dishes we ate. Nothing was sacred, and nothing you read is true.
Valentino—A very pretty collection, and the designers, Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli, are growing into their role. Another British milliner, Philip Treacy, created the headwear, rather beautiful blindfolds. Sensational projections of whirling blossoming trees blowing in the wind by Jennifer Steincamp produced a magical setting.
Jean Paul Gaultier—Viva Mexico! The music of Mexx-Hee-Co (!) blasted us from all directions. To make sure we got it, there were sombreros on most heads.
Anna Wintour, seated at the end of a row where the paparazzi were galvanized by Dita von Teese and Carla Bruni’s former beau Vincent Perez—now with more family and less hair. So briefly, Ms. Wintour escaped into the second row—before returning to her rightful position.
Wintour travels everywhere with very large bodyguards. Unlike the editors of French Vogue, Carine Roitfeld; Italian Vogue, Franca Sozzani; and Russian Vogue, Aliona Doletskaya, who arrive alone or with colleagues, Ms. Wintour is marched in at great speed by her army.
At Gaultier, her guards were squatting on their haunches just behind, in the aisle, and as soon as the show ended, edged forward to wrap her into her sables; she waited until the now not so jeune Jean Paul sprinted down the runway, his traditional parting shot.
Then the bodyguards sprung to surround Anna, with Hamish Bowles and other Vogue-ies, seated further along, in desperate pursuit.
The Mexican fiesta and the lightning exit reminded me of the story of a friend, a guest of the late Mrs. Lopez Portillo whose husband was President of Mexico at the time.
They had attended a concert and the presidential party was told that as soon as the First Lady moves, they must all race for the line of limos, otherwise they would be left behind. There was much scrambling by the elegant guests.
The route was cleared, side roads closed and, Olé! Mrs. L-P and friends screeched through Mexico City at ninety miles an hour.
This privilege has not yet been afforded to American Vogue, though negotiations with the French government, to the derision of the French press, to help young designers, have started.
And that was the end of Spring/Summer 2010 Haute Couture. Without going into boring details, it took twenty four hours to get from Paris Charles de Gaulle to SFO 
with eight security checks and six discarded bottles of water.
In March, Gladys Perint Palmer is waiting for April.
