The push and pull between the past and the present—and what that can possibly look like—at major fashion houses is the ongoing story in Paris. We’ve seen Jonathan Anderson getting his teeth into Dior, Sarah Burton finding her voice at Givenchy, Michael Rider rewiring Celine, and Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez having fun with Loewe. On Saturday night, it was Pierpaolo Piccioli’s turn to grapple with the heritage of Balenciaga in his second show for the house.
Piccioli seemed geared to play to the crowd this time. “I kind of had to do the portrait of the world and the community of Balenciaga,” he said. An immersive video collaboration with Euphoria’s Sam Levinson played in a blacked-out set, word of which was causing a major gathering of screaming fans blocking the Champs Elysées outside.
His beginning conversation with the director had revolved around “finding the light in the darkness, which is also metaphorical (of) the moment we all living, unluckily,” he remarked. “I feel Sam Levinson has been able to get the picture of a generation through a very human perspective, a very sensitive perspective, not judging nor celebrating, but just observing, going deeper into each character, in order to feel the connection and emotion.”
Piccioli has both the legendary 1950s and ’60s haute couturier Cristobal Balenciaga and the youth culture focus of Demna to juggle with, and to superimpose his own identity upon. This show was a case of observing which side of the brand he was choosing to amplify—not the haute couture sophistication of his debut last season, but much more a turning up the volume of the dystopian youth cult-y heritage Demna installed.
Every creative director now has the responsibility for navigating a brand through heavy commercial weather. So, was this Piccioli placing all his bets on keeping a particular global tribe of Demna-ites spending at Balenciaga? Well, when it came to the clothes, it seemed to be a case of a yes, a no, and maybe all at the same time.
The first look was a black leather balloon bomber and pencil skirt all in one, zippered through from crotch-level to neck. A streetwear meets couture coat-dress, in other words. The impression of the hard, slightly perverse nightclub-prowler characters of Balenciaga’s recent past continued in a black leather poncho, and in the moment when a girl in a bomber-mini dress strode out in thigh-high boots. Coats and sweaters with prints of Euphoria stills on them were also designed to play to that youth culture constituency.
Yet not everything went quite that way. Piccioli’s casting was also both more age and body-shape including than the majority of Paris shows. His ideas about the effect of chiaroscuro brought out his Italian side. He showed many draped goddess dresses in silk jersey or velvet, interspersing them with face-framing tailoring calculated to appeal to chic adults. Likewise, for men, parkas, coats and cocoon-backed car coats which seem pitched more to a mature man.
His sign-off with the streaked-silver sequin gowns, which did indeed catch the light, were recognizably Piccioli back to his eminent self as a killer red carpet couturier. Granted: it takes time to adjust a brand commercially, especially when the dreaded term relevance is bandied around so much in this climate. But does trying to keep working to the known facts of a past market mean anything or nothing in this new age of uncertainty? PIccioli’s significant talents have always included the ability to spread joy and delight through his exuberant color sense and love of women’s intellect. It didn’t show up in the dark this season, but he should know that fashion world still craves to see it.
