Nobody does elegant disheveled like Haider Ackermann. For his sophomore men’s collection, the designer summoned a contemplative mood reminiscent of a 19th-century literary society. Models, including a few women, milled about an industrial space in the Marais as if lost in thought, sipping mulled wine.

The collection was cozy and romantic, a step forward from the satin-loving rabble-rousers he proposed for his debut. Rich, textural fabrics — either rustic or vaguely exotic — were generously piled on in Ackermann’s inimitable layered style.

Overcoats were enveloping, elongated and robelike, their proportions amplified by the slouchy pants that tapered and ended snugly at the ankle. Artfully wound scarves nestled amidst collars and lapels turned up against the wind.

The ensembles were as studied as the seating was random. And while probably difficult to duplicate at home, Ackermann’s blend of dusty colors, wintry textures and artfully crumpling volumes was arresting.

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