Paris Fashion Week Haute Couture Spring Summer 2011: Jean Paul Gaultier

Whispered by The Clothes Whisperer

Go go Gaultier!! Was my initial reaction as my eyes began to drink in what was, in my opinion, undoubtedly one of the richest collections of Couture Fashion Week Spring/Summer 2011. A spectacle in every sense of the word, Gaultier's couture collection brashly rejected the sweet-as-pie sixties revival we've seen at the likes of Chanel or the delicate ethereal creations of Elie Saab or Valentino, and jumped into the punk era full stop.

 



 According to Style.com: "The run of show named outfits after "Anarchy in the U.K." and "London Calling." And that was Sid's "My Way" playing as we walked in. All held the promise that Jean Paul Gaultier would parade punk couture, hardly a new idea for him, and not exactly a thrilling prospect for us, especially given that the designer has been going through a dry spell of late. But something magical happened on Gaultier's catwalk today. A living legend got his mojo back. Maybe the split with Hermès fired him up, maybe his upcoming career retrospective in Montreal got him thinking about his greatest bits. Whatever, it worked." 

 
 

 We all know that Jean Paul, when he picks a path, like the Lee McQueens and Hussein Chalayans of the world, he goes all the way down it. A theatrical spectacle of a runway show, every little detail about each looks, from the mohawked models to dog collars to a zeitgeist seizing all things decayed, studded, shredded and derelict, the glamour, the rock n' roll, the cool, the COUTURE, oozed from every look.



Gaultier, in this collection, reached back to his roots as a brilliant tailor as the looks, for all their deconstruction and punk madness, were gorgeously constructed. Impeccable cuts on sharp suits, asymmetrical deconstruction at a neckline...it is Gaultier's exquisite mastery of his craft that allows him to play so, to push boundaries where other designers would fall flat on their face or fumble. The more Gaultier plays, the more he cuts things up and whacks them back together, the more his genius is revealed.





Amidst the punks, there was also palpable a feeling of Burlesque, of the femme fatale in her fishnets, smoking a ciggie as she tromps down the runway. I guess "vixen" is the word I'm looking for. Lke this smoking hot deconstructed fire engine red one shouldered trench gown, that look smacks of one thing and one thing only--female sexuality unbridled in the most powerful sense. Like the Cher's of the world, the Gaultier Couture woman knows she's fabulous and really doesn't give a F*CK what you think.