Inside PFW Spring '16: What It's Really Like at the Shows

While going through my emails en route to the Fondation Louis Vuitton to see what brilliance Nicolas Ghesquière had in store for spring, I read a breaking news item from Business of Fashion about Balenciaga appointing Vetements’ Demna Gvasalia as its new artistic director. How convenient that Balenciaga chose to release this news only moments before Ghesquière, Balenciaga’s former AD (he was there for 15 years before Alexander Wang’s recent stint) was about to present his collection for his current maison. While waiting for Vuitton to start, attendees were abuzz about this not-so-subtle dig. But everyone shut the F up once the lights came up and the first look hit the runway. Ghesquière’s first few collections for LV had a late '60s/early '70s feeling, but his spring show hurdled the brand boldly into the future. There were holographic dresses, spaceship prints, woven tanks, jackets pieced together using different colours of LV monogram leather and motocross-inspired silk pants. When it all finished everyone looked satisfied, particularly Anna Wintour who seemed genuinely excited about what she’d just seen. Of course it may have just been a look of relief knowing it was the last day of PFW and there were only two shows remaining. Speaking of which, the first, Moncler Gamme Rouge was pretty in a way that seemed a bit incongruous with a label known for making puffy coats (but perhaps not that surprising considering it's designed by the embroidery-and-lace-loving Giambattista Valli), the second. And last of the week, Miu Miu, was quirky and cool as per usual. Miuccia Prada showed loads of overcoats, massive colourful platforms and short sheer nighties used as layering pieces over, not under, clothes. After the last model disappeared up the inside staircase of the Palais d’Iéna, champagne-toting waiters appeared and headed to the celeb-studded front row (Mia Goth, Stacy Martin, Lea Seydoux and Canadian Mackenzie Davis were representing), but I managed to swipe one on the way out. I’d made it through nine days of metro-travel to take in more 30 shows and countless re-see appointments, all on very little sleep with hardly any time for food or drink. It was due time to celebrate.