Alexandre Vauthier

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Review

  • Sofia Guellaty

In-your-face glamourama Couture is what was offered to us at Alexandre Vauthier. Not to fall into mundane clichés here, but not since Thierry Mugler in the ‘90s has France been under the spell of such a fervent worshiper of the female dominatrix—leaving the job to the Italians instead.

Vauthier might be onto something here: “French Glamazon.” So what does such a creature wear? A beautifully tailored white jacket with leopard lining over a macramé bodice and silk skirt; one gold hoop earring; sky-high Louboutins; diaphanous skin; and a dark lip. Yes, this description might read on the side of gaudy, but in reality, the whole show looked something like a Vogue Paris editorial—where sensuality almost never falls into the dangerous waters of bad taste. Admittedly, we could have done without the transparent bodysuit, the leopard lamé dress, and the spiked collar; we could have even passed on the avalanche of tulle. But some other looks were so strong and cleverly styled that they alone were enough to make a statement.

Leather braiding, macramé, and fringes helped Vauthier add a welcome ethnic note to all the heat. Meanwhile, a rhinestone bomber jacket over a poplin shirt provided for an elevated urban-chic note. It seems like Vauthier’s Parisienne is out to unapologetically dominate the town.