Paris Frill Seekers

By Kate Betts/Paris

Like the quintessential bored French shopgirl, the fashion world has fallen into a daze--lulled by expensive handbags, too many peasant blouses and endless low-rise jeans. Even Miuccia Prada's bookish cardigan-and-pleated-skirt look, which caused a splash a mere 18 months ago, feels old. Everyone has done it now.

So when the thousands of journalists, magazine editors and department- and specialty-store buyers from around the world trekked to Paris last week for the spring 2006 collections, they were looking for more than the safe, crisp poplin trench coats and soft sleeveless dresses many designers were offering. They wanted to be worked into a lather about something. And eventually they were--by the skinny pants and fancy frills that Nicolas Ghesquiere, 34, showed at Balenciaga, the Camille Claudel-like attenuated hourglass silhouettes of Olivier Theyskens at Rochas and John Galliano's surprisingly minimalist nude-chiffon-and-black-lace dresses for Dior. In Paris, at least, the frill is not gone. "We've all been waiting for a definitive moment," said Neiman Marcus fashion director Joan Kaner. "We've seen a lot of salable, wearable clothes but nothing that says this is the new direction. Ghesquiere and Theyskens did that."

Funny thing about fashion: just when everyone--including the copycats who are now a mouse-click away--is cashing in on the look of the moment, some Young Turk will thrust a seemingly absurd idea onto the runway and turn the multibillion-dollar global business on its head. Prada did it when she introduced that ladylike look just as every fashionista was baring her navel. And a year ago, Italian designer Stefano Pilati gave the crowd at his debut Yves Saint Laurent show a jolt when he suggested the awkward silhouette of short, tulip-shaped skirts and puff-sleeved blouses. The audience left the show cursing and returned six months later dressed head to toe in the stuff.

"This is the only industry where the same small audience comes back every six months expecting something completely different," said Ghesquiere after his show last week. "I have a responsibility to them. I have to surprise them." He did exactly that, electrifying the front-row regulars with his rock-'n'-roll pantsuits and frothy Marie-Antoinette blouses. But Ghesquiere also acknowledges the need to be commercial in order to bring a fabled house like Balenciaga back to life. And so he designs wildly popular handbags, like the hippie-style Lariat, and more accessible ancillary collections of pants and jackets that sell at lower price points. "I want Balenciaga to grow, so I follow the rules. I do the commercial pieces in precollection and capsule collections that are not shown on the runway."

So far it's working. According to Franc,ois-Henri Pinault, CEO of Balenciaga owner PPR, Ghesquiere has delivered higher figures than originally expected. "Balenciaga is an even more international brand than we thought," he said before the Stella McCartney show last Thursday. "He has a very strong image, but he is always challenging it. He is a searcher."

And what Ghesquiere and his contemporaries have found is a new kind of modesty and romance. His play on proportions--a corset-tight jacket over frothy pajama pants or a stick-straight pantsuit with a cascade of ruffles at the neck--has its roots in the Balenciaga archives, while also reeking of street-savvy rocker chick. "What looks new to me is the baroque, but just a brush of it," Ghesquiere said backstage. "I wanted to mix the severity of Balenciaga from the '60s with the lace and Spanish heritage of the house."

Theyskens, who is resuscitating the stuffy old French house Rochas, which has been more famous for perfume than clothing, set fashion on a more genteel course last season when he introduced a turn-of-the-century silhouette with floor-length skirts and short, fitted jackets. This season he continued along those lines but added to the mix soft silk pantsuits that looked completely modern.

"It's like a Monet painting," says the stylist L'Wren Scott, who dresses such celebrities as Nicole Kidman. "Subtle, elegant and poetic. The clothes make me want to wear a long skirt and run through the Tuileries Gardens."

Even John Galliano, known for his runway theatrics, toned it down with an almost all-nude-colored Christian Dior collection of wispy dresses overlaid with black lace. The inspiration could have been one of the Klimt nudes on display in the newly restored Grand Palais where he presented his show.

Turning things upside down is de rigueur for the Dutch duo Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren, of Viktor & Rolf, who showed their collection backward and upside down, literally. There was a fake runway on the ceiling, and the models came out with dresses pinned hemside up. Even though the clothes, back in the showroom at least, are quite classical and romantic, the message is clear: time for something new.

In the past few seasons, fashion--even in this creative capital--has become an extravagantly commercial endeavor. Every-where you look there are $1,200 handbags with exotic gewgaws like padlocks or python patches or chain-link straps. There's nothing wrong with success, of course, but people can stay excited about handbags for only so long. Every now and then, designers need to send shock waves through the fashion system, if only just to keep its heart racing. And in Paris the real designers did just that.