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His accompanying notes claimed he wanted a “a childlike woman again, not even, a sexless child.”That message may have been lost on some of the attendees, who leaned in and leered through their camera viewfinders when some of the bare-breasted models, their tops penciled on in bare outline with makeup, plodded by, barefoot.There was a naïve charm to parts, where the children-dressing-up theme and the babe-in-wilderness vibe best jelled.
And it was sweet and unexpectedly touching when the models, too big to fit two abreast on the runway, had to meet and do a little pas de deux (or maybe more accurate to call it a do-si-do) around each other to continue on their ways. For the rest, suffice it to say this ceremony, whatever else it was, was a bright spot in a so-far mostly dim week. Origami may be a paper art, but on Saturday morning in Paris Junya Watanabe transformed it into clothes: basic black and gray jackets, dresses and coats worn over white shirts but honeycombed, concertina-ed, mille-feuilled and otherwise engineered into something else entirely. They recur periodically, but they’re more or less the look of now. Woman she might be, but in a man’s world you could hear her roar.What’s mind-warping about the experience, if you’re close enough to watch it in action, is not so much the individual stars; they become like so many baseball cards. There was so much to look at that it was hard to find time to wonder why there were 1980s and ’90s arcade games, like Space Invaders, Neo Geo and pinball, scattered around the set.(Bookmark that puzzle for later.)Before the show, the crush of photographers that descended on the celebrity section reached what seemed to be a dangerous density, nearly toppling back onto the row of seats — and those of us seated — behind them. Perry, dressed in a lacy black number hanging off her shoulder and lacquered kiss curls that resembled the ones in the show, stopped for a brief chat about the show before heading backstage. Leive, nor the models Karlie Kloss and Natalia Vodianova, all of whom ran the race in support of various charities.“I find it nice to do something in the middle of fashion week that isn’t, you know, fashion,” Ms. “It’s very human compared to New York half-marathons. “What were you expecting: red socks and a Breton tee and a beret? It’s a Bataan Death March till May.”Really, it’s until mid-March, when fashion month concludes, but he had their number. So was Alexis Bryan Morgan, the former executive fashion director of Lucky who is now going to be working for Rent the Runway. — VANESSA FRIEDMAN Optical lighting belts, polymorphic silhouettes, biomimetic structures, stainless steel weaves — such is not the stuff of legend, or “Star Wars,” but an Iris van Herpen show. Arriving 10 minutes late to the Chanel show at the Grand Palais meant being denied the grapefruit pressé, espresso and hunks of baguette that had been set up at a makeshift brasserie. The actress Jennifer Connelly, a longtime favorite of the house’s designer, Nicolas Ghesquière, was somewhere in the crush, wearing a short blue printed dress. Sitting in the arched stone bowels of the fortress, you could practically feel the ghosts lusting after such finery, applauding as they came.