A Quiet Moment

>> If you follow my Instagram, you’ll know I’m haute couture-ing and that it’s thus far been an onslaught on the body.  Legs aching – from running to the Versace show plonking my bum on the seat to see slashed gowns stomp on 25,000 orchids.  Body Sweat – from sitting in Dior’s stained glass pointillist church and melting under 30 degree heat.  Brain freeze – from trying to decipher the different stylistic and history epochs that Raf Simons was referencing and piecing it all together in my head.  Heart palpitations – from trying to ID capture all the Insta moments at Chanel.  The celebrities!  The casino!  The sharp shouldered clothes!  Those tinted cheekbones!  Headaches – from drinking in the excess seen at Giambattista Valli and MAC’s party held at the Opéra last night, which was magnificently projected with roses.  More of that tonight when another beauty giant Lancôme throws their big bash.  

A quiet moment therefore feels almost like a luxury – which is also what haute couture is all about.  And yet despite my eyes, ears and brains buzzing with ways of dissecting the ins and outs of those aforementioned shows, today inside the courtyard of the Lycee Henri IV, I got to take in Bouchra Jarrar and reflect upon it quietly.  Without an outrageous set.  Without celebrities.  Without pap fanfare.

And the clothes?  Well they weren’t simple but compared to Hans Holbein sleeves and gold leaf flutter gowns paired with severe bobs and intense rouge, they certainly were minimised.  This 21st century couturier has been doing her thing on the haute couture schedule for an established amount of time now and she hasn’t wavered from her fixation on day-to-day clothes that hold luxuries for the wearer (in fabric, cut and fit).  But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get to do her own flights of fancy.  Today, they came in the form of what Jarrar called “aurora borealis” embroidery done by Maison Lesage with plumes of feathers in hues of peach, lilac and powder blue creating raised shoulders and curvaceous backs.  They were contained in Jarrar’s signature holsters and harness pieces that provocatively draw lines on the body, highlighting the smalls of the back and the shoulders.  My eyes could see those nuances clearly here.  And they could adjust quickly.

I’m still ploughing through the SD card and my thoughts to articulate Dior (and then came the think piece canyon that was Chanel this morning) but for now, Jarrar doing less to say more feels like something of a respite.