PARIS — It was raining on the final morning of the Paris shows, gray and overcast, but under the glass ceiling of the Grand Palais all was sunny and warm. The designer Karl Lagerfeld had built a beach, complete with dunes, sea grasses and surf lapping at the shore, through which the models splashed barefoot. The sand had come from a quarry outside the city and was due to be returned; the water’s ebb and flow was controlled by hidden pistons, but the carefree mood was real.
And not just because the audience, which had slogged through four fashion weeks, was thinking, “Yay! It’s almost over.”
There has been a lot of talk about women warriors during this season: Women taking it to the front lines; women gearing up for battles, supreme or otherwise; women readying themselves to fight for their cause. Mr. Lagerfeld was having none of it.
Instead he was having fun with leggings, with the house’s classic bouclé (boxy, oversized, slashed at the side like couture to show miniskirts beneath), with straw hats and Chanel logos and swirling parasol prints. Also little black dresses (tiered, flapper style, in silk chiffon). Also denim (palazzo-sized, with a monochromatic maillot). Bike shorts. Patent macs. You name it, he probably did it. Some more attractively than others.
Chanel is a formula by now: Take some tweed, some quilting, add a dash of contemporary trend, a pinch of pearls and a sprinkling of double Cs, throw it all in a pot and stir. If a few of the ingredients make your nose wrinkle, like those lumpy oversized jackets, it’s O.K. — there are some sorbet-refreshing silk slips and shirt coverups about to go in, too.
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