The last week of April, Hong Kong played host to Liberatum, a cultural event that gathers artists, musicians, filmmakers and visionaries from a menagerie of disparate creative disciplines for three days of enlightening conversations and performances. The festival, founded 11 years ago by Pablo Ganguli, has previously been held in Turkey, Morocco and India, and featured the likes of Italian Vogue editor-in-chief Franca Sozzani, Courtney Love and Kirsten Dunst. Highlights from the Hong Kong edition included talks from Pharrell Williams and producer William Orbit, Nobel Laureate Sir V.S. Naipaul and Paul Schrader, among others. And while the city was abuzz with chatter about the above-mentioned superstars’ lectures, the festival’s exhibition, held in the Lane Crawford offices, was not to be missed.

Spread across the Chinese mega-retailer’s 29th floor, the exhibition—which included everything from cellist Gerald Peregrine playing while locked in a cage to a display of emerging Chinese designer Six Lee’s end-of-the-world-inspired menswear collection to artist Svetlana K-Liè’s raw photographic expressions of contemporary femininity—was a veritable smorgasbord of creative fare. And at the center of the show was “Bourdin, Ses Films,” an installation of iconic fashion photographer Guy Bourdin’s rare cinematic experiments. Guy, who passed away in 1991, was famed for his dark, sensual photographs, which frequently appeared in French Vogue in the 1970s. He was a pioneer of surreal eroticism in fashion photography and his life, riddled with turmoil and loss (he was rumored to have mistreated his models, had a slew of affairs and endured the suicide of his wife and two girlfriends), was often as chilling as his images.

Renowned pianist, composer and co-curator of Liberatum, Rosey Chan worked with Shelly Verthime (who has been touring the films internationally since 2009) to create the installation, which consisted of fragmented clips from Guy’s fashion shoots as well as his home videos. Projected on three walls of a dark room, footage from a Geisha-inspired Vogue shoot or of nude models posing provocatively for the photographer’s lens was juxtaposed with shots of his children playing in the field and his wife lounging nearly naked by a waterfall, giving the viewer a peek into the icon’s complex psyche. Marking the first time the films were shown in Asia, the installation reverberated with compositions by Claude-Achille Debussy, Johann Sebastian Bach, Frédéric Chopin and Victoria Bond. Played by Rosey on loop, these harmonies served to enhance the films’ eerie melancholia. “I think when people walk in, even though these are not images of people they know, they can relate to the films because they draw signatures to one’s own memories, journeys and life. And with the music, I hope that they’ve walked away feeling that it’s touched them emotionally in some way,” the musician explained.

Meanwhile, filmmaker Mike Figgis—known for everything from American Gigolo to the short video presenting Lanvin’s H&M collaboration and a zealous Guy Bourdin fan—worked with Shelley to edit and compile the clips, which were shot between the 1960s and 1980s. “Watching the films, you start to get a sense of what his process was like and that’s interesting because when you just know the still photographs, that’s a very formal projection of someone’s work,” the auteur elucidated, adding, “The films are quite amateurish. They’re a bit out of focus, covered in dust and stuff. There’s something rather evocative about it—and he had such an influence on the fashion world. Every time I do a commercial, I get a moodboard that has a Guy Bourdin.” Naturally, Guy played a pivotal role exploring sexuality, and perhaps, one’s demons through photography during his reign, but, as Mike noted, ”He’s still a major visual contributor to our [contemporary] palate.” And it was indeed a treat to experience his tormented moving visions firsthand.

Designer Glenn Martens, with his scruffy beard, antique earring and piercing stare, seems quite the curious character. So it’s no surprise that his debut presentation, held in a stone cavern in Le Marais during Paris Fashion Week, was an eerie Gothic extravaganza. The Belgian designer, who graduated from Antwerp’s prestigious Royal Academy of Fine Arts and previously worked with Jean Paul Gaultier, created an at once minimal and intricate collection that combined couture sentiments with a ’90s edge (each upscale silk or wool look was paired with platform white trainers). Set against a backdrop of antique tapestries (meant to recall paintings of the Madonna) and a film—which, projected on the wall, flashed images of classical Flemmish paintings—the presentation embodied the duality of tastes that served as the designer’s prominent influence. His primary inspiration, however, was his hometown of Bruges, which was once a medieval metropolis. The clever, versatile looks, which featured architectural tailoring, light-washed denim and angelic white frocks, were showcased by softly made-up models, who walked to the beat of haunting Gregorian chants.

Katharine K. Zarrella: Can you talk to me about the experience you tried to create here?

Glenn Martens: We tried to do something intimate. We really wanted something that could actually reflect the collection, which was inspired by a small town, Bruges, in Belgium. It’s very Gothic. It’s about a duality between different classes and I really wanted people to feel that through images in the film.

Katharine: What is this film we’re seeing, exactly?

Glenn: The film actually is all flashes. I wanted to have this first collection be an introduction, because nobody knows me. So I dissected all the things in my life that I’ve been touched by and that I really love—these images are flashes of these things. [They are] are a dissection of my personal roots put together.

Katharine: Can you tell me a bit about this debut collection? What materials did you work with and why were you drawn to these silhouettes?

Glenn: That’s again going back to the duality situation. For example, I love to look at things things that are really ugly and examine why I think they’re ugly. I always discover that the more I look at something I don’t like, the more I appreciate it and start loving it. That’s something I try to express in this collection. For example, I used moiré, which is like a very old, dusty silk—I made a bomber out of it. It’s supposed to be a ’90s look. Then on the opposite side, we have couture dresses, which we worked on for weeks. It was very important to me to have all these different elements.

Images by Oskar Gyllenswärd

Nasir Mazhar is not your mother’s milliner. When he launched his line of eccentric cranial accouterments in 2008, the hairstylist turned truly mad hatter presented a unique aesthetic that fused the grungy East London look with dark, seemingly medieval sentiments. His first presentation, which featured everything from a clear, cranium-engulfing bulb to a wire cage that could easily have been mistaken for some beautiful instrument of torture, was co-hosted by Thierry Mugler’s Nicola Formichetti. And quickly after his debut, Naisr went on to create Lady Gaga’s famed gold orb hat, as well as toppers for Madonna, Viktor & Rolf and Gareth Pugh.

The 28-year-old London native who, with his signature box-brim cap, scruffy beard, track pants and hoodie, is the streetwise antithesis of his flamboyant predecessors, including Philip Treacy and Stephen Jones, has recently turned to East London subcultures and religious dress for inspiration. His Spring 2012 collection, which earned him a nomination for the Emerging Talent Award at this year’s British Fashion Awards, boasted Rastafarian dreadlock looks, tropical turbans, quirky boxing helmets and Marabou accents. His presentation featured performances by Shiesty and Lioness, two London-based musicians who fuse grime and rap beats, as well as models perched on speakers and a filthy-cool, laidback vibe.

In addition to creating hats for London fashion fixtures like Meadham Kirchhoff and Louise Gray, the NEWGEN-sponsored designer is in the midst of expanding his range of hats to a full-on accessories line, which this season featured an enticing range of ’90s-chic backpacks. Here, the progressive designer talks to us about his spring collection, the ever-evolving English millinery tradition and his plans for the future.

Katharine K. Zarrella: Why is it an exciting time to be a young designer in London?

Nasir Mazhar: We’ve got so much support here. The great thing about London is that we’ve got loads and loads of support. From press, from buyers, from all the magazines, from the British Fashion Council, especially, and places like Topshop. People embrace new design here. People want to see new design; they want to see craziness and people experimenting and trying new things. Much more, I think, than other cities where they hold fashion weeks.

Katharine: Why do you think that is?

Nasir: I hear people say that it’s just English heritage. It’s just the way that the English work, which is amazing.

Katharine: You used to be a hairstylist. How did you go from doing that to making hats?

Nasir: I suppose I was getting bored of beauty and editorial work. I started assisting Samantha Hillerby. I did a season of Milan Fashion Week and we did all the high-end magazines, but it was just quite boring for me. I wanted to create all these shapes that I had never seen before so I started building these wired constructions for the hair to sit on, then they slowly became headpieces. I realized all of a sudden that there was a whole new world of construction.

Katharine: Do you have a background in sculpture?

Nasir: No I didn’t ever study art or anything like that.

Katharine: What did you study?

Nasir: I didn’t do any creative subjects in school. I did P.E. and Home Ec. I was really into sports and eating, obviously. Then I left that and went straight into hairdressing, straight into Vidal Sassoon.

Katharine: How old were you when you went to Vidal Sassoon?

Nasir: I had just turned 16.

Katharine: How long were you doing hair before you went into hats?

Click “Read More” for additional images.

Nasir: Five years. I was 21 when I started to play with hats.

Katharine: How does East London culture inspires your aesthetic and your outlook?

Nasir: I was born in East London, so I suppose you could say it’s just there. It’s always been my surroundings and I’ve seen this mix of cultures—from religious to madness to goths. I can’t pinpoint it…it’s just there. If you’re surrounded by something every day, if you see something every day for the majority of your life, it’s bound to have some sort of effect. It’s bound to be embedded in you somewhere.

Katharine: Do you remember your first hat?

Nasir: I think it was my brother’s baseball cap.

Katharine: What’s the essence of your aesthetic?

Nasir: It’s mainly sportswear or streetwear. But you can’t really say sportswear because when you’ve got headbands with Marabou pompoms on them, it’s far from sportswear. It’s really mixed, I suppose.

Katharine: Your cap is your signature, yes?

Nasir: Yeah. It’s got a boxed short peak at the front with side panels. I just wanted to change the cap. I got bored of everyone having the same shaped cap as me. And I thought the peak was way too long anyway. It wasn’t flattering on me. That was one of the first things I wanted to do: reinvent the baseball cap because it hadn’t changed since the 1600s, apart from the peak used to be even longer.

Katharine: There were baseball caps in the 1600s?

Nasir: Yeah, well, they were six-paneled riding caps, but the peaks were double the length of a normal baseball cap peak. So all that happened was that the peak got shortened.

Katharine: What was the inspiration behind your Spring 2012 collection?

Nasir: I think it was the same that it’s been for the past few collections. It’s not direct inspiration, but I’m always listening to or looking at dance hall music or grime music or hip hop, R&B, and also the styles that surround it—like how people dress, where they live, how they live, what they’re into, what they’re influenced by and what they’re up to.

Katharine: What is your process like?

Nasir: I don’t really know. A hat’s so specific. It really defines an outfit. So it’s not really taking something specific from the research and then putting it into the hat; it’s more just a general feeling. A lot of it’s just the styling—for example, having the two MCs at my presentation, having all those speakers, that helps tell the story or give off the influences more than just a hat by itself, because a hat’s quite small. At the same time, you could look at a hat and do 100 different things with it.

Katharine: What materials did you work with this season?

Nasir: There’s lots of printed chiffon, a lot of animal print and leopard print and zebra print.

Katharine: Why did you choose to work with those?

Nasir: Because they look really good together! I found these vintage fabrics from the ’80s or ’90s, and they’re all these really tropical Miami, jazzy kind of jungle prints. In the last few seasons, I’ve used the leopard print or the zebra print so it helps to tell the story. They were jazzy and jungle-y, and they felt fresh, really fresh.

Katharine: Why did you decide to combine these seemingly contrasting prints?

Nasir: It just looked good to me. It looked right. It’s a bit “hippie,” really. A lot of the time it’s like, let’s just see what happens.

Katharine: The boxing helmet and the blue turban are especially intriguing. Can you tell me a little about those?

Nasir: Well, the turban is basically like Erykah Badu. I actually called it “Erykah Bablue.” I like doing a big head wrap or a big Rasta dreadlock. The boxing helmet is a white version of last season’s pink robo teddy, but it’s much sportier. It had all the padding inside and it had headphones.

Katharine: So it’s functional?

Nasir: Yeah it works! The wires can plug into your iPod or something—it completely works.

Katharine: Where would you see someone wearing a piece like this?

Nasir: Well it’s kind of pushed a bit. It’s pushed to an extreme because it’s a bit OTT. You see girls in Jamaica or even in Dalston or in Seven Sisters wearing these big head wraps. It’s kind of real life, but it’s just certain real life elements are pushed to the limit. I mean, you see women with big head wraps or having dreadlocks—or wearing a hijab. We did a hijab as well with one of the printed fabrics. It’s meant to be for everyday people. It’s introducing headwear to our everyday life. Everyone around us wears headwear. It doesn’t have to be something that you just buy to look good. Loads of people wear religious headwear.

Katharine: Can you talk to me a bit about your religious influences and what role different religions play in your designs?

Nasir: As a hat designer, I like the idea of being able to have something for everyone and one of the focuses of my hats is to reintroduce them into people’s lives. No one has really worn hats for years, but 100 years ago everybody wore a hat—from the cleaner to the king. Now, hats aren’t used as a social [classifier]. You can’t tell if someone wears this hat they’re from there, or from here, etc. But for religious purposes, people do wear headwear, like a hijab or Jewish men have the yarmulke and the huge wide brimmed hats. So why not design something that they could wear in keeping with their religion? Just because they have to wear a certain type of headwear doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t have a designed one.

Katharine: Is it your intention for people to wear your hats with their religious garb or are your hats more of a commentary on religion?

Nasir: That isn’t my main aim. I’m not trying to make that happen specifically, but I think you just slowly have to introduce the idea of it. With hats in general, no one’s worn them for so long, it’s just showing people different ways to wear them out; it’s not just a wedding hat or an Ascot hat or just a super crazy hat or something you put on your head if you want to be funny. It’s trying to get away from that and open up people’s views on it.

Katharine: How do you think that your creative street-cool approach to millinery has changed the traditional view of the English hat?

Nasir: I couldn’t say, really. Hopefully it’s done what I just said, or started to at least. I think it has. There are more and more hat people, you know? There’s Stephen (Jones) and Philip (Treacy) who are flying the flag and there’s been a new wave of people, and now there are even more new people coming up.

Katharine: You designed leather jackets and a tracksuit for your spring collection. Are you making a foray into ready-to-wear?

Nasir: Yeah, maybe. We’ve always done certain pieces. We’ve always done a pair of shorts or some trousers, but the menswear isn’t sold.

Katharine: Do you have plans next season to do more ready-to-wear?

Nasir: Yes, menswear. I think next season we’ll maybe do a few more looks and then maybe do a full collection. But my main concentration at the moment is working on accessories.

Katharine: You’ve started to do backpacks.

Nasir: Yeah. We have three styles of backpacks. This season we did three sizes with pony hair, faux fur and leopard print. And we combined sportswear buckles with fur and Marabou straps.

Katharine: Why did you decide to go into accessories beyond hats?

Nasir: I just think it’s interesting—and I don’t think I’d be able to work on hats for the rest of my life, to be honest.

Katharine: Why not?

Nasir: I just think I’d get bored—of anything I did for years and years and years. I always need to make something new. I need to see new things constantly, and the idea of doing bags is really challenging, not that I’ve explored hats enough. I’ve only been doing it for a few years but I just wanted to start exploring bags.

Katharine: What do you think is the most important element of your designs?

Nasir: Is saying new really stupid? I always think it’s something that has to be new. It has to look new—and it doesn’t necessarily have to be fun but I like it when it starts getting fun.

Katharine: Do you have a design ethos?

Nasir: I think that’s because so many things don’t change or they don’t seem considered enough or fresh enough. Everything’s always got to be fresh, like music. We want new sounds. We don’t want to listen to the same music over and over. We want new music to emerge. We want new styles of clothing and new styles of music to emerge so I think it’s just constantly trying to develop ideas; to develop what we already have.

Katharine: How do you think the support of NEWGEN has helped you to move forward as a designer?

Nasir: Oh hugely, but you wonder if it would ever be possible without them. They do so much. Financially it helps in terms of creating a platform that’s visible for hundreds of thousands of people around the world and introducing us to editors and buyers. Doing things like the London Show Rooms, making sure that all the key buyers and all the key editors come. It’s endless what NEWGEN does for us and what the BFC and Topshop do for us.

Katharine: What are you obsessed with outside of fashion?

Nasir: I feel dead at the moment, dead to the world. Music, I suppose. I’m really obsessed with grime at the moment. It’s not respected and there are so many talents. I’ve just been listening to Wiley on repeat and it’s like how could this guy not be signed and how could he be not producing the biggest hits. It’s been around for a good few years now but still it’s new in my eyes because I don’t hear it on the radio. I don’t hear it anywhere. And girls like Shiesty and Lioness. They’re so talented. Put them up against any female rapper or MC, they’re just as good lyrically, the way they flow. It’s just as good. But I guess maybe it’s just a sound that isn’t meant for commercial success, which is really really cool but really sad at the same time because I don’t feel like these people getting as much respect as they deserve.

Katharine: What’s next for you?

Nasir: I think to keep expanding the range like I did with bags and backpacks this season—increase the accessories, keep doing the menswear and I think that’s the main thing…just work on that, work on the range and get that up to scratch.

Stills from Tze Goh’s Spring 2012 Film

After graduating from the Central Saint Martins MA program in 2010, 32-year old Tze Goh captured London with his clean, minimalist approach to womenswear. Since, the Singapore-born, London-based designer has furthered his quietly elegant aesthetic through at once stark and delicate collections that explore garment construction. Case in point: the designer’s menswear-inspired Spring 2012 collection, which he chose to debut via an artfully eerie film during London Fashion Week. Light, sculptural black and white looks, which included masculine summer suits, impeccably tailored trousers and shorts, and slick v-neck dresses and vests, were crafted from a tactile blend of cottons and wools. Tze’s effortless blouses and shirt-dresses evoked a vintage breed of tranquility, allowing the wearer, rather than the garment, to be the primary visual focus. A voluminous black wool summer cape, which the designer chose to pair with an easy top and smartly cut shorts, demonstrated a delicate balance between drama and restraint. As a whole, the collection marked the forward-thinking next step in the designer’s quest to create sharp, timeless garments.

Katharine: Why did you decide to present your Spring 2012 collection with a film this season?

Tze Goh: I think it’s because we really wanted to find a more creative form of expression and a more creative way of presenting the collection. Also, the catwalk is really for trade. It’s more commercial in that sense, which is fine, but particularly in this collection we wanted to make the garments really wearable. So we had to find a way to present it that was really creative.

Katharine: What was your inspiration this season?

Tze: The collection was kind of inspired by menswear, kind of like the traditional menswear wardrobe. So the focus was classic tailored suits and shirts and trousers. We took that and tried to transform it into womenswear. In menswear, they have a lot of canvassing so it’s quite stiff. We tried to change the fabric on the inside so the clothes become quite soft.

Katharine: What drew you to your black-and-white palette?

Tze: I suppose it goes back to the inspiration of menswear. The most classic menswear look you see is a white shirt and a black suit. I was also looking at a light instillation in Munich at one of the museums there and it was just basically white light and then you’d see the shadows in all of that.

Katharine: How is this collection an evolution from last season?

Tze: I think we tried to make this collection a lot lighter than the last collection. The last collection was quite structured, but it was also on the heavier side. For spring we tried to tackle how we could keep the same kind of volume and shape, but how we could do it in a lighter way.

Katharine: What do you want these clothes to project?

Tze: The clothes were designed in a way that the lines are quite clean. So when you see the woman who’s actually wearing it, you don’t have any pre-conceived notion of who she is. Her personality shines through. So, to answer your question: I want it to project nothing but the women themselves.

Images by Cara Stricker

Maria Francesca Pepe is one wicked chick. The Italian-born, London-based jewelry designer has made her mark with sometimes Goth, sometimes punk, sometimes fetish, but always feminine tubular necklaces, hammered metals, charm-rings and studded everything. This season, Maria looked to love potions and snakes for inspiration. Titled “Poison,” her spring collection combined antiqued glamour and cult appeal with a new sophistication. Maria used turquoise as well as white and aqua woven ropes to bring a summer lightness to her oft-dark look. During London Fashion Week, Dossier caught up with Maria to talk about love spells, her vintage muse and the new collection.

Katharine Zarrella: What was your inspiration this season?

Maria Francesca Pepe: The collection is called “Poison” and it’s all about potions…love potions; it’s very vintage. There are hints of jewelry from the ’40s and ’50s and a lot of snakes, because in the ’50s there was this idea of the snake being very sexual. It’s burlesque as well. I’ve been using turquoise stones for the very first time because past seasons have been quite dark and gothic and I wanted to experiment and bring a little bit of color into my collection. I also did burlesque-inspired hairpieces. Theda Bara is this salon movie actress and she’s my fashion icon—she’s always my primary reference. I also looked into using vintage elements like letter presses, which were used for printing. I hand carved them with symbols like crosses or hearts or letters or the Eye of RA. They’re all studded with gold and turquoise and crosses.

Katharine : You said you were inspired by love potions. Have you ever made a love potion for someone?

Maria: Yeah, actually! I like all these chemical things you can do with stones and crystals.

Katharine : What was in your love potion?

Maria: I’ll tell you. I have a spell charm here that we’re going to sell. Inside you’ve got your rose petals and quartz, and the quartz is carved with a letter. You buy the initial of the name of the person you want to make the spell for and you just put it in brandy with the roses… Everything is explained.

Katharine : And the target of your potion was…?

Maria: I can’t tell!

Katharine : What was one of your biggest creative challenges with this collection?

Maria: The use of different materials. I have twisted all the chains with ropes; it’s the first time that I’ve used rope. But probably the biggest challenge was to make it a little bit more fresh and more grown-up.

Katharine : Do you have a favorite piece?

Maria: I’m very much in love with this giant triangle earring. I always work with geometric shapes and this is one of my favorites. It’s quite major.

Katharine : And last but not least, are there any upcoming projects you can tell us about?

Maria: I’ve got a couple of collaborations but they’re secret! I’m also working with TopShop again, which I love. And I think that’s it for now.

26-year-old Arielle de Pinto’s chainmail silver and vermeil jewelry has an otherworldly quality. Whether it’s the at-once-elegant-and-decayed cascading necklaces and gloves from her main line or the cleverly abstracted stainless silver figurine rings from her diffusion line, ADP, the Montreal-based designer’s jewelry transports one to another time and place; a time and place more mystical, dark and humorous than our own. This Friday (today) at Italy’s Vicenza Oro, the world’s leading exhibition of fine gold and silver jewelry, de Pinto’s eerie woven masks will make their big screen debut in an exhibition curated by Diane Pernet.

Titled Who’s Afraid?, the exhibition features a film collaboration between de Pinto and the LA-based boutique and magazine THVM Atelier. Directed by Nicholas Trikonis, the film features a group of Puritanically clad children playing in a serene wood, their sweet faces covered by de Pinto’s woven creations. The pagan-tinted short merges old and new world sentiments and brings de Pinto’s artful masks to life. “I feel as though the masks transform the children into creatures,” says de Pinto of the film. “THVM did a beautiful job. They really put in their all,” added the pleased designer. “And Diane has been a supporter since the beginning. She’s really dedicated to young designers and she’s just so great!” Judging by the film, which will be shown alongside a selection of other jewelry-centric shorts during Friday’s event, Diane’s project is indeed “great,” as is the film, which you can view in its entirety above.

Vicenza Oro is located in Vicenza, Italy at the Fiera di Vicenza Spa (via dell’Oreficeria, 16 – 36100 Vicenza) and runs from May 20th-May 24th.

Images by Ellie Campagna

…Costume National, Zadig & Voltaire and Vionett.

Dai Fujiwara for Issey Miyake and Danish duo Viktor & Rolf have an acute ability to convey their concept on the runway. They push beyond hemlines and color palettes to transport us from the Tuileries tents and into the complicated, or sometimes crystal-clear, world inside their heads. Their shows allow us not only to see, but to experience their collections. And the designers’ Fall 2011 shows just went to further their records for conceptual runway excellence.

The undisputed showmen Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren took a literal approach to their runway romp. As soon as I was settled into my seat, the grinding of heavy chain blared over the speakers. The backstage wall transformed into a drawbridge and, as it slowly lowered, I found myself in smack in the middle of a sartorial medieval battlefield. The crusaders were fierce models, their faces painted red and their armor—structured black or white felted wool coats and jumpsuits with strict, pleated collars and arms—was ripe for the charge. Leather coats with sharp pinwheel shoulders were especially dramatic, as were the lace-up bondage boots. Knit dresses painted with the Rose of Lancaster were at once chilling and sweet. The most deadly look, however, was a silver frock with spiked sleeves and shoulders that nearly touched the model’s ears. After models violently stomped the catwalk during their finale, Horsting and Snoeren stepped out to survey their kingdom.

Dai Fujiwara for Issey Miyaki’s performance arrived at the other end of the spectrum. In the spirit of Issey Miyake himself, Fujiwara took a more cerebral approach to performance. The concept behind the designer’s collection was simplicity: creating a dress from the bare minimum amount of material. He showed us this raw vision early on in the show; when the lights beamed on the runway, a lone model stepped out. A piano began playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, perhaps the most elementary of songs, and two assistants dashed onto the runway. Picking up sheets of white paper that laid on the ground, these black-clad helpers created an origami muslin around the model. This was repeated five times. And after the paper-clad models posed in a line at the end of the runway, the real, or rather, fabric clothes came out. At first there were basic grey looks that mimicked the sharp lines and folds of the paper styles, but as the show progressed with a puffer capes, coats and vests, belts of layered, linked plastic circles, tartans and prints in every color of the rainbow, and—my personal favorite—a pair of poofed caramel leather shorts, it was clear that there was nothing “basic” about Fujiwara’s expert construction. The final look, an ethereal tie-dyed, dress and cape of layered chiffons, created a soothing optical illusion on the runway. But no matter how complicated Fujiwara’s looks may have appeared, the basic, minimal beauty from which his first paper outfits were made, could be seen at the heart of them all.

A.F. Vandevorst

A.F. Vandevorst images by Michael W Schwartz

Click “Read More” for additional images.

Between the hustle and bustle of the Paris shows, I swung by Zadig & Voltaire’s Place des Victoires boutique to preview their fall looks. This season, the brand has rounded out their skulled and sequined collection by collaborating with Gaia Repossi on a range of pleasantly priced jewelry. Repossi, renowned for her luxe knuckle rings and the elegantly tarnished collection she created for Alexander Wang last fall, teamed up with Zadig & Voltaire to spawn a selection of webbed silver and gold-toned cuffs and rings. Inspired by everything from ancient civilizations to Art Nouveau to her extensive travels, the on-the-up designer’s new baubles embody Zadig & Voltaire’s at once rebellious and refined Parisian aesthetic. When asked why she chose to team up with the brand, Repossi simply responded, “because it’s young, fresh and cool.”

Image courtesy of Zadig & Voltaire.

It looks like model-cum-designer Erin Wasson shares Repossi’s sentiments, as she too will be designing a collection for Zadig & Voltaire. “I think this will give me an opportunity to take my ideas and bring them to a more heightened level,” said Wasson of the line, which is set to debut during the Couture shows this July. Perched atop a table in the boutique’s upstairs loft, dressed in a relaxed head-to-toe vintage look, Wasson added, “Our aesthetics and ethos are very similar. It’s all about a girl with soul and spirit and, at the end of the day, that’s what the collection’s all about.”

Mod Mondrian-infused minimalism. This is, perhaps, the best way to describe the looks I encountered at Ennino Capasa’s show for Costume National. Set in a clean, raw white space in Palais de Tokyo, the show began with a restrained parade of black-and-white wool coats and tunics. Two dresses constructed of plastic shingles kicked up the collection’s sleek ’60s feel, and a series of black, cherry, slate blue and canary looks—particularly three sheath frocks with distinct Mondrian lines—brought a crisp, updated perspective to the classic retro aesthetic.

Over at Vionnet, there was also a pop-art, vintage vibe, but where Capasa capitalized on minimalism, Vionnet’s Rodolfo Paglialunga tantalized with colorful, calculated maximalist looks. After walking into the presentation, where I was offered a delightful array of juices and champagne, I found myself face-to-face with a surreal stage constructed of steps painted with psychedelic swirling black and white lines. Above it hung a slanted mirror and, when the first models—donning high ruffle-necked chiffon dresses in prints of purples, rouges, blues and rusts that mimicked the pattern on the stage—stepped out, their fractured reflections overwhelmed the space. Two lace looks in metallic electric blue shone brightly as they took their place beneath the mirrors, while a range of frocks, hooded sweaters and skirts woven out of grosgrain ribbon, had the same innovative couture-esque essence upon which the visionary Madeleine Vionnet built her historic house. A pair of candy red looks: the first, a ’40s-style plunging v-neck dress and the second, a super luxe red coat with a red fox-fur front, also embodied the timeless, yet edgy elegance for which Ms. Vionnet was known. My favorite ensemble, however—a shimmering blue jumpsuit, which, paired with a massive patchy fur stole, was nipped at the waist with a striped aqua and orange ribbon belt—was a distinct departure from the house’s traditional aesthetic. But while it may not have adhered to the classic Vionnet look, it was a playful showstopper, nonetheless.

Images by Ellie Campagna

Zac Posen’s show began at 11 am at Le Palais de Tokyo or, rather, in a grand stone dungeon beneath Le Palais de Tokyo. And after catching my black six-inch YSL Mohawk heel on a set of deadly stairs, bouncing off a chain link fence and flying into a pool of photographers, I was very happy to take my gilded seat inside the show space.

Embarrassing tumble aside, Posen’s raw setting was an appropriate venue for his fall looks, which—featuring lots of leather, jewel-toned everything and a host of grown-up separates—were significantly more somber than his usual theatrical ball gowns, bow-embellished blouses and feathered cocktail frocks. However, while Posen may have dialed down his usual frills and thrills, his signature va va voom factor stood strong in nipped-waist silhouettes, second skin raffia leather skirts, tops and dresses, and a croc-bustier gown.

Dashing, very carefully, back up the stone stairs, it was off to Le Marais’ Garage Turenne for Manish Arora’s runway spectacle. And I do not use the term spectacle lightly. It was a mob scene outside the show, hopefuls pushing, screaming and yelling in front of the entrance, each in a more wonderfully bright and outlandish ensemble than the next.

Upon entering the garage, I simply could not believe it. The stone ramp that led up to the show space was just as if not more deadly than Posen’s dungeon descent. But back to the spectacle at hand, which began, as all spectacles should, with a puff of smoke. And ta-dah! A bearded magician, clad in a black robe, took the stage. Next to him rested a curious flaming cage. After he covered it with his cloak, BAM! the first model, wearing a patchwork lamé jewel-toned dress, her hair painted orange and sculpted into a stiff circle hat, escaped through the bars and took to the runway. The looks that followed, which encompassed every color of the rainbow, hoards of sequins and plenty of Arora’s signature whimsy, were indeed over-the-top. But, at the same time, they were wearable. From the glittered leggings to the aubergine fur stole to the ’40s-style jackets and circle skirts, many of Arora’s fall styles could find their place in a (colorful) woman’s wardrobe. Perhaps the swirling intergalactic metal corsets and body armor, electric psychedelic prints, mint spike-studded fur sleeves and structured doily-cut gown are more suited for an Anna Dello Russo-type than the everyday lady, but that’s the beauty of Arora’s aesthetic: He’s never afraid to have fun.

Speaking of fun, the designer closed his show with the above-mentioned magician, who stuffed Charlotte Free and her signature pink hair in his mystical box and chopped her in two. Naturally, the audience roared with applause. And while I’ve never wanted to know how those illusionists complete their tricks—some things are better left to the imagination—I am dying to learn how Arora’s models, in their sparkly sky-high boots, walked up and down that ramp without falling.

Images by Samantha Casolari

I always love the invites for the Paris shows. They’re somehow more refined, delicate and, well, Parisian than those of the other cities. New York’s are slick and chic. London’s are witty and wild (remember Giles Deacon’s court summons?). Milan’s are bold in a way that only Italians could make them. But Paris’s invites are sophisticated. They’re elegant and haughty in an understated way, like that French woman who sits at Café Flore in her Lanvin trench, casually dragging on a cigarette, peering over her sunglasses and sipping an espresso. So when Damir Doma’s soft grey and whitewashed invitation arrived, I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Doma’s show, held at the top of a deadly staircase at le Grand Palais, had the same kind of rustic beauty as his invite. Once guests settled into the raw stone space, many turning up in leather jackets and skinny jeans (it is Emmanuelle Alt’s Paris now, after all), a harp could be heard over the speakers. One by one, Doma, who has become known for his dramatically draped, raw fabrics and severe yet feminine aesthetic, sent a series of decidedly sporty looks down the runway. There were white sweatshirts, spandex shorts and wide-legged martial arts pants. Zippers were used to bring strict lines and architectural shapes to black tech-fabric jackets while long, geometric drop-panels on leggings and skirts brought an aerobic crusader vibe to the collection. Then there were, of course, several pieces that were typical of Doma’s austere fluidity, like a long cashmere coat that was drawn in at the waist by a thin leather belt, a black leather tunic topped with a black Mongolian lamb jacket and a paneled copper silk skirt. But it would seem that the designer had a bit more fun than usual with this collection; there were several uncharacteristic appearances of leopard print on pony fur skirts and dresses, many of which were paired with fantastic tribal copper cuffs and textural rust sweaters. Additionally, the grey strips of lamb hair that hung from the waist of a pair of skinny black pants, as well as a distressed nipped-waist short sleeve leather top and a shaggy black cape that swept the runway at the show’s end, demonstrated a mature balance of refined, edgy and whimsical.

After lunch at Café Ruc—where after paying seven euros for a Cocacola Light, I have vowed to never return—and a sunny stroll through 1er arrondissement, it was time to head to Dries Van Noten. Judging by Mr. Van Noten’s summons….

Click “Read More” for additional images and text.

….a clean cream square printed with royal blue velvet text, I knew it was going to be a good one. The designer always holds his show in Paris’s Hôtel de Ville a.k.a. the capital’s grand City Hall, and what place could be more appropriate to host the king of fabric, textures and prints’ runway spectacle?

As editors settled into their seats in the dimly lit, chandelier-garnished space, a remixed version of David Bowie’s Heroes began. The room was stiff with anticipation as the first look, a swirling black-and-white jacket paired with a contrasting black-and-white skirt in an updated herringbone, took to the runway. Inspired by two entirely different forms of excess, Bowie, himself, and the Ballets Russes, the designer presented a parade of lush velvets, wools, tweeds, furs and even shimmering sequins. With easy yet classic silhouettes, the collection—with its fusion of organic, opulent and retro prints, and vivacious fire-red, blue, gold, lemon and neutral palette—was classic Van Noten. And while the clothes, like a violet, aqua and turquoise textured wool trench, gold jacquard suit and silk skirts and tops printed with spindly, blossoming branches, evoked an emotional response that would only be matched by Issey Miyake later in the week, it was the shoe and sock combos that really got me going.

First, there were saucy black leather booties capped with orange snakeskin toes and matching Lucite heels. Paired with black-and-white psychedelic swirly socks (Bowie’s influence, no doubt), they exuded luxurious, sexy ’70s cool. Tricolor snakeskin and leather sandals also had a strong vintage vibe. On the other side of the spectrum and clearly inspired by the grandiose luxury of the Ballets Russes, there were blue velvet booties teetering on either Lucite or rich wooden heels. By the time Mr. Van Noten stepped out to take his humble bow, it was clear that he had lived up to the promise of his exquisite invitation.

Giles. Images by Oskar Gyllenswärd.

Spirits tend to get a bit low as Fashion Week wears on. So in order to dig myself out of a bottomless pit of exhaustion, I threw on an Ann Demeulemeester feather collar and vintage ’30s top hat before heading off to the trenches. My frivolous ensemble, coupled with a trio of signature London shows (Erdem, Burberry and Giles, to be exact) managed to give me a mighty second wind.

Inspired by a crazed Jackson Pollock, Erdem was a painterly parade of enchantment. Staged in an underground show space in Marylebone, the collection transplanted me into a vintage mystical garden where printed velvet frocks, vintage baubles and elegant, ladylike silhouettes reigned. Their hair in loose fishtail braids, makeup pale with the exception of a smoky eye, models gave off a sense of rebellion as they wound in and out of the audience in navy, violet, canary and candy red plunging v-neck frocks, tailored trenches and cozy cableknit sweaters. “I wanted these clothes to project strength,” said designer Erdem Moralioglu post-show. “Last season was very much about a girl. But this season is about a woman. It’s a new chapter and I wanted to move forward,” he added.

Moralioglu’s womanly shift was apparent in softly flared dresses with lace overlay, fluttering printed chiffon gowns and smart paint-spattered opera gloves. His newly sophisticated female showed not only in silhouette and palette but also in texture. “I was really interested in fabric development this season. I used digital printing on sequins. I made a dress out of raincoat fabric and took traditional fabrics—like a really classic tweed—and mixed them with really techy fabrics. I wanted to turn things on their heads and make things in ways you really shouldn’t, necessarily.” The designer’s risks paid off. The next step? “I’m going to have a drink!” he laughed. Cheers, Mr. Moralioglu.

After hailing a cab in some unseasonably chilly weather, it was off to Burberry Prorsum. Nestled in the heart of Kensington Gardens was a sprawling red carpet, studded with the likes of Kate Bosworth, Rachel Bilson and Julia Restoin-Roitfeld. The show itself was held in an expansive white tent, the end of which boasted a floor-to-ceiling screen rolling a film of falling snow.

With Dusty Springfield in the background…

Click “Read More” for additional images and text.

…a cozy model stomped out in a Mod orange heritage wool coat. Her hair topped with what seemed to be a cow-print fur driving cap, there was no question that the ’60s (think haute, not hippie) were at the center of Bailey’s Fall looks. Carrying Burberry-plaid bowling bags in bright teal, olive, and carmel, models turned out in voluminous bubble-backed coats of the same palette. Oversized checks appeared in fuchsia, lipstick red and mustard. Chanelling the punk-edged twist he placed on Fall 2010’s shearlings, Bailey transformed poppy toggle coats with rows of black, industrial clasps. White cableknit sweaters and coats, paired with black ski pants and woven with fluffy white fur, were ripe for a vintage winter’s eve, second only to a series of decadent black-and-white fur numbers.

As the show ended, flakes of snow fell from the ceiling, frosting rows of models who were now topped with clear, black-trimmed Mackintoshes. And as they turned to head backstage, we all remembered why we were so thrilled to have the Burberry show back in London.

Last but most certainly not least, it was off to Giles. The ever-witty Deacon summoned showgoers with an official court subpoena. Why, you ask? I’m sure that his chosen venue, London’s Gothic Royal Courts of Justice, had a little something to do with it. We actually had to go through metal detectors to get to our seats. I suppose that this grand location should have prepared me for the show that was to come, but Giles Deacon, you simply blew me away! The back wall of the runway was covered with a fractured 19th century-print of a cherubic woman swooning in white robes (the image would later appear on slinky gowns and cocktail frocks) and there was an eerily calm about the space before the first model broke the tension with a stern and sexy neoprene-corseted, black pencil frock worn over a severe white Victorian blouse. Next came a dramatic burnt ostrich-trimmed circle skirt that—paired first with a cap-sleeved white shirt and then a leather corset—literally sent chills down my spine. A golden goat-hair coat, bonded at the waist, prodded me to shriek and the feather, goat hair, pearl and Swarovski embellished collars worn with lace-up, peep-toe booties and oversized hair bows had me bouncing in my seat. And then there were the gowns.

Preceded by a sheer top covered in a waterfall of pearls, as well as a freaky-fun, ostrich feather-embellished minidress, an elegant, austere duo of gowns emerged. The first was black jacquard stunner, garnished with spurts of feathers jutting out the side. But the finale, a fetishistic leather-wrapped bodice that topped an explosive feather floor-length skirt… Well, I may have screamed. But there was really no more appropriate response to Giles’ brilliant balance of sex, severity and control.