It looks like goodbye at Saint Laurent. Ten years and precisely two days since his 2016 debut, Anthony Vaccarello took his last bow at the Kering-owned brand. At least, the signs pointed that way.
The music playing as guests filtered in was Miles Davis’s soundtrack to Louis Malle’s first film, the meaningfully named Elevator to the Gallows (a series of stills from the short movie also served as Instagram promos for the show). The note Vaccarello sent with black calla lilies explained he wouldn’t be doing interviews: “I’ve had this collection in mind for a long time, and finally felt that this was the right moment to bring it to light. It’s a very personal one for me, charged with emotion, so this time I’d rather not say too much and let you experience all its shades. With Love, Anthony.” And then, at the end, came a surprise performance by the longtime Vaccarello loyalist Charlotte Gainsbourg; the chorus of the song repeated “You are so much, Yves Saint Laurent.”
If it was adieu, it was brilliantly orchestrated, equal parts indebted to the house founder and consistent with Vaccarello’s own unfaltering rigour. It played out in many shades of gold, with a finale all in black—a reversal of sorts of Yves Saint Laurent’s fall 1991 Rive Gauche collection, whose finale was all in gold. The notes made reference to a long ago YSL quote: “It’s a magical colour, when reflecting a woman, it’s the colour of the sun.” The internet revealed more: “It is today’s black,” Saint Laurent said at the time and, my personal favourite, “an evening should glow; otherwise it’s a bit absurd.”
This one surely did glow, with the Eiffel Tower twinkling not just on schedule as it always does at the top of the hour, but again as the show was starting and at its end, and with a trio of massive candlelit chandeliers that threw dramatic shadows across the glossy black surface of the runway.
Of course, all those looks in gold created their own spectacular aura, as well: sahariennes and trenches in crackly cotton métallisée and toile froissée, as the lavishly detailed run of show explained, with mousseline scarves in deep shades of absinthe, amber, and cognac for an added dramatic flourish. Cocktail dresses in what looked like metal thread lace. Little cropped jackets and trousers in gilt brocades. As always, Vaccarello still believes in big earrings, and high, high stilettos, including one style that featured striking s-shaped snakes for heels. This might be the only show in Paris—perhaps across the whole season—not to include a single bag.
Vaccarello, since it appears to be time for encomiums, is as strong-willed as he is soft-spoken, a designer resolutely unwilling to bend to trends, and just as firm in his disregard for the democratisation of fashion that is one of the dominant storylines of the season. He might call it a dumbing down of fashion. “We made people believe that fashion is for everyone and that everyone can buy a piece of clothing or a bag from a big house,” he told Vogue last year. “I hope we’ll go back to an old-school way to treat luxury, because this kills a bit the idea of fashion for me.” Those old-school days may never return; nothing gold can stay.
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