Nuits d'Été, it was called, which gave some clue to at least a few of the dozen or so things that were going on at Chanel. Summer Nights, Grease, fifties Americana? Maybe that would explain the opening of blue-jean everything, from jackets to trenches, wide-leg jeans to dungarees, and, yes, bathing costumes—and then the parade of star prints and red-and-white striped jackets, and the Ronettes singing Be My Baby in the background. Really, though, it looked more as if Karl Lagerfeld had set off with a cry of "Let's see how many trends of the season we can tick off this time."
So, apart from the fifties, and the stripes and the stars (which have been shown elsewhere, but not in the flag sense), Lagerfeld checked off transparency, in the bottom half of organza evening looks; ran exhaustively through the all-in-one, from overalls to silk pajama types to teddies; and also touched on masculine-feminine tailoring, the big shoulder (with a new side-loaded epaulette), ballerina lengths, gold—oh, and soft, thirties circle cutting (actually, he was the first with that one, over at Fendi).
In other words, it was the regular Chanel ready-to-wear tsunami of style, strewn with a plethora of surface devices like grommets and portholes (in a bag) and loaded with pearls, chains, bows, bangles, buttons, and star-strung jewelry. Though it teetered on the brink of that other Parisian trend, randomness (the one Rei Kawakubo brought up at Comme), Lagerfeld kept the Chanel classics bobbing along on the surface as a lifeline to the elegance-seekers of the world. Some of the jackets—like the multilayered white chiffon—and the simple fitted dresses, with flattering circles of paillettes in the flanks, had the true stamp of the investment about them—the sort of dateless things that transcend any transient trend.
A Chanel carousel fitted out with giant quilted bags, camellias, pearls, boaters, and bows faced the audience as it poured into the Grand Palais for the Fall Ready-to-wear show. It was a fitting metaphor for the timeless turning of the house classics, and for the unstoppable machine fashion has become these days. The instinct, on arrival, was to prepare to hold on tight. How fast would this thing be set to whiz? How many blur-speed notions would Karl Lagerfeld manage to whip past us this time?
Thankfully, instead of the past few seasons' bamboozling surges of styles, all that transpired was that the girls walked in a circle, then climbed aboard the turning merry-go-round so that the clothes could be viewed again at leisure. It was worth a second and third look because this was a collection that, in spite of its something-Chanel-for-everyone variety, also provided gimmick-free commentary on current trends. Lagerfeld didn¿t miss a trick, from fragile, frothy, high-necked blouses to spidery knits, peplum jackets, and an intelligent exploration of how longer lengths might be worked into a winter wardrobe. It could be as a tweed maxi column skirt with a delicate blouse (the literal version), but also as a long, cutaway ostrich-trimmed coat over a short skirt (newer and cooler). And what of austerity chic, the subject du jour? Lagerfeld's witty take was an updated retread of Coco Chanel's "poverty de luxe," so that the tweed suits came with worn-through elbows or scatterings of faux-darned patches. Nothing too heavy, of course, because Lagerfeld is not one to take passing fashion issues, even recession, too seriously. But in its relative restraint, reserved color, and holding back on accessory overload, this collection was a smart way to prove that whatever goes around comes around, and ends up looking just as Chanel as ever.
