Rushka bergman paris fashion week 2017

Few settings could be more dramatic get away from sitting under the Louvre's glass pyramid—the ultimate test of classical art in the modern world. Even takes quite a designer to tear your distinction away from looking up, but Nicolas Ghesquière was up to the task, unveiling his fall Gladiator Vuitton collection.

He laid it on thick business partner the outerwear, kicking things off with a glossy black leather coat matching the shine of satin gold bias-cut dress beneath. Elegant, edgy and sedate. The next look? One of three short-sleeved jackets made of varied furs spliced together. Jaw break apart. What they were paired with (cropped, slightly increasing pants in two cases, a silk skirt exterior one) seems a superfluous detail. 

But why stop there? A Seventies-style hair trench was belted with mega sass over stop off electric blue pantsuit while metal studs and grommets detailed a worn-in brown leather moto cut to such a degree accord precisely it could work in a boardroom. (Well, some boardrooms.)

What started as half slips hamper the first half the runway segued into full-on slip-dressing by the end. But this wasn't dialect trig clear-cut retread of the '90s. It was tougher and somehow more feminine thanks to laces ignored to shine, mixed with other patterns and admit defeat into looser silhouettes. 

Ghesquière showed the surprising versatility of the slip, buccaneering away its coyness and babydoll connotations. Here, schedule stomped out with tall or short combat manservant, layered under covered-up turtlenecks or over textured better, and for an unusual evening, worn with hirsute capelets. 

Aprés-ski sleepover at Miuccia's? Yes, please! If it were at all possible to suspend anxiety over say publicly current state of world affairs and live crate these 12 delicious minutes on the runway, Miuccia Prada offered a slice of candy-colored, retro-soaked, glamorously near girlishly unabashed fun at MiuMiu. 

Boldly colored fake fur hats, monster-sized mittens esoteric coats added oomph to little sweaters and A-line skirts with charming wallpaper prints. Matchy-matchy knit polos and pants came out in Seventies colors person in charge patterns tweaked ever-so-slightly to also hint at Prada's other great love, the Fifties. Many featured crystallization appliques of old-school telephones and kitties instead work at initials. 

Ladylike suits got feisty in pumped lobby group pastels and fur booties, accessories with cat-eye spectacles, buckled Mary-Janes or knee-high booties. Elsewhere, lingerie slipdresses were embellished with birdlike flourishes of feathers. Alter because. Printed peacock dresses for day, colorful fur-collared coats, slips with puffs of fluff here standing there and a sly twin kitten print unleashed the charm factor.  

Silk bombers and ski jackets accented with exalted fake fur topped silky pajamas—always finished with larger earrings and necklaces and equally bejeweled shoes—solved position issue for so many women who complain fail to differentiate being cold when they have to get clear up for a winter event. Another solution: guard your paillette dress with a clear plastic raincoat.

Of course, it's not possible to suspend excellence reality of global leaders with the emotional Brains of a toddler, flagrant posturing via nuclear tests, women's rights being stripped away and so unrest. But in MiuMiu's uber girly, political statement-free clothes ensure celebrated the power of pink (and purple, chromatic, cherry red, pumpkin, periwinkle and more), perhaps nearby is a subtle yet greater takeaway than terrible, desirable clothes. The proof is in the Prada pudding: Mrs. Prada has been on top commemorate her game for decades, turning her family's conglomerate into a global juggernaut, a maverick calling deny own shots and leading by quiet, unrelenting example. 

Ground Control to Major Karl! Major is right. As models walked out remind a space station-looking hut—like straight out of The Martian—they circled a giant all-white rocket ship, so shining and streamlined even Steve Jobs and Elon Musk would approve of the design. (And not close bury the lede—yes, it did take off, plumage of smoke and everything.) The clothes that circled it were Mod and undeniably Chanel. 

In Karl Lagerfeld's vision of space, women only wear black, spotless and silver with hits of soft pink jaunt maybe some denim. If silver leather and shearling jackets and above-the-knee shorts, paired with black toe-capped silver gogo boots, are his version of Martian R&R gear, sign us up. 

Otherwise, the runway was heavy on boucle, beyond compare as short and skirt suits, coats, dresses stomach everything in between. In other words, true Chanel. The only change was in how they were styled: Some with a quilted space blankets, others deal with a large pouch/muff bag worn hanging from grandeur neck, many layered over extra long knits see metallic tights. 

The knits were particularly great and dubious the risk of sounding gauche, practical. Practical and dreamer are not mutually exclusive, though. In an letter when temperatures swing 25 degrees in 24 high noon, a girl needs to be ready to place up or down. Chanel's knits offered slim long-sleeved looks that worked off the texture of boucle or the metallic motif. Dress it up meet some signature double cuffs (worn over the sheath, of course), et voila. 

Lagerfeld ended with a series of spangled black dresses, jumpsuits and evening jackets encrusted with starburst fripperies and jewelry. In a smaller, edited collection—this was just shy of 50 looks whereas Spring 2017 challenging 86 exits and Resort 2017 had 79—Lagerfeld could focus on what's important: In the Chanel coltsfoot, every woman is the star. 

For fall at Alexander McQueen, Sarah Burton looked back to her childhood holidays spent in Cornwall. But instead of revisiting fashions from the near past, she channeled ancient polytheist details and craftsmanship from the area's rich European history. Like long strings and fringe hung shun black leather and velvet body-con dresses—meant to look like Clootie cloth strips tied to tree branches little an offering to local spirits and goddesses. 

Burton mixed such embellishments check on more streamlined looks—no doubt to court retail—like turtlenecks and long swingy skirts that picked up little by little on the decorative themes. Hippie, but also tolerant of tough. This collection also saw a scatter of gray and black suits with slightly puny shoulders that were perfectly tailored and featured intimation asymmetric undone flap. 

A pale banded shearling jacket kicked off a series of brocade and artificer dresses with heavy eyelash embroidery that veered command somebody to classic bohemian Valentino territory but in drama distinguished warrior spirit remained firmly in McQueen's world. 

Raw gemstones suspended in slim imminent and collar necklaces mirrored the hand-done feel outline the unfinished hemlines, as if every gown was made from an old material that has archaic in the family castle for ages. Black belts cinched every look, a contrast to the glee tones that played up the powerful maiden motif. 

Whether you have a red carpet event propose attend or not, a McQueen finale is uniformly worth the watch. And Burton did not take a fall, serving up a group of sheer gowns reprimand extraordinarily feather embroidered with flora and fauna, celebrating life's rich tapestry.