A Battle of Creative Titans Unveiled
PARIS - Witness the clash of the new titans on Wednesday night in Paris, where Haider Ackermann presented his third show for Tom Ford, while Pieter Mulier bid farewell to Alaïa with his final collection. Ackermann's tightly choreographed presentation left audiences in awe, transforming the runway into an art installation amidst a pristine white backdrop. Meanwhile, Mulier's last hurrah for Alaïa had the crowd on their feet, cheering and stomping in appreciation of his five-year tenure, during which he masterfully navigated one of the industry's most challenging legacies.
Ackermann, facing the same daunting challenge, emerged victorious on Wednesday, largely due to his position as an artist still striving to prove himself. In contrast, Mulier wisely acknowledged, "I don't want to do something huge and creative because it's not the moment for that. When you leave a house, you keep it calm, you go back to the roots." As one wise observer put it, "It's like leaving the keys on the counter for the new owners when you sell your house."
"Going back to the roots" for Mulier meant revisiting the very elements that made Alaïa his own. His collection showcased T-shirt dresses with subtle seaming, sinuously tailored coat dresses, and swing coats in pony. The tactility of velvet, a signature of Azzedine Alaïa, was evident in an irresistible pant suit in deep burgundy. Mulier wrapped Gemma Ward in gold velvet, presented a stark black column dress with exposed straps, and closed the show with a burst of burnt orange. Azzedine's love for croc leather was echoed in a little shift dress and croc panels inserted into gowns worn by models Lulu and Vittoria.
However, Mulier's success at Alaïa wasn't solely about reverence for the past. After the show, he spoke about the lessons he learned during his time there: "Precision, editing... and I learned that real luxury is not what we all think. It's the perfectly cut jacket." Reduction to the essence, repetition - a theme echoed in Saint Laurent's recent collection. Mulier's favorite composer, Gustavo Rudman, reduced five years of soundtracks into one uplifting musical surge, emphasizing the power of repetition.
"Azzedine did one skirt 50 times, and the last one was the best one," Mulier said. His collection, too, aimed for perfection, even though perfection is elusive. "Still, it made my heart beat," he added. Now, Mulier is off to Africa for a break, and then on to Versace. As he put it, "The opposite."
Shifting our focus to Haider Ackermann's show for Tom Ford, we witness a powerful presentation that left hearts beating. Ackermann envisioned his models as long-term survivors of debauchery, having found inner strength to stand tall after a life of excess. This collection was his response to the complexities and violence that fashion often struggles to address. Balance, he insisted, was key. The soundtrack played "Sweet Harmony," an anthem from the Second Summer of Love, but transparency was also crucial. Ackermann's collection featured plenty of plastic, revealing the layers of a person's life - the shirttails, the underwear, perhaps even a hint of perversity.
Ackermann's love for the word "rigour" was evident in his collection's strictness and formality. "It's needed," he said, "otherwise, there are no rules. And we're living in a world without rules nowadays. We need a little bit of discipline." His answer, in fashion terms, was the acuteness of his tailoring for both men and women, the razor-sharp cashmere suiting with accompanying collar and tie (albeit with a perforated leather collar). "Still 'American Psycho,'" he admitted. "Still the killer. I can't get rid of him."
The casting for Ackermann's show was exceptional, featuring a diverse range of characters that embodied the full spectrum of Fordian aesthetics, from desiccated decadence to gilded innocence. The clothes complemented their wearers perfectly. It was surprising to learn that Ackermann grew up with an activist father deeply involved with UNICEF and Amnesty International. "Humanity is a big word in my upbringing," he said. This led him to question, "How do you rationalize that with what you do?" His answer: "the need for beauty."
And beauty indeed resonated in Ackermann's show. It might not have appealed to everyone's tastes, but its power, conviction, and diversity were undeniable. A sweet harmony, indeed.
Wednesday's fashion journey began with Nicolas Di Felice's celebration of his fifth anniversary at Courrèges. The show started with the ticktocking of an alarm clock, as the audience took their seats in a narrow set design reminiscent of a Metro carriage. Tension built, fueled by the increasingly infernal ticktock, leading to temporary chaos akin to a typical rush hour. It was all part of Nico's vision to capture a day in the life of the Courrèges woman.
The alarm eventually went off, and the audience was treated to the musique concrete of her morning routine, finding her way out of bed and heading to work. But tension wasn't Nico's primary goal. He drew inspiration from the films of Chantal Akermann, an unknown name to many but whose film "Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles" was voted the best film of all time in a 2022 critics' poll conducted by the film bible "Sight and Sound" magazine. Di Felice described Akermann's films as "meditative, slow, the real speed of life." This inspired him to showcase a wide range of clothes, an entire wardrobe, including a skirt and gown made from yellow Metro tickets.
The stiffened tabard fronts and collars, and reinforced waists, felt like protective armor in an uncertain world. However, Di Felice insisted he wasn't making statements. His moodboard featured archival photos of Andre Courrèges looks, which he duplicated on his runway - the barely-there bikini strip, the transparent polo with pockets. "It's an amazing archive," he said. "I can't always work with the same little trapeze dress." His powerful all-white finale, even featuring bleached metro tickets, was his personal response to the current state of fashion, where every house is relaunching and shouting its values. Andre Courrèges loved white, wearing it exclusively. For him, it symbolized light and purity. Di Felice's vision added peace to that list.
