By  on October 1, 2019

It wasn’t the Chanel runway crasher, the Rick Owens bubble makers or Mr. Funkadelic himself, George Clinton, at Sacai that stuck with me most this week (though all were awesome). It was a quaint scene on the balcony of an apartment building across from the Valentino show, where a couple had set out a white tablecloth and wine to watch the runway feast.

They just wanted to catch a glimpse of the grandeur (some of their balcony neighbors even had binoculars in hand). And grandeur is the word that comes to mind for the season; Paris wouldn’t be Paris without it. And neither would fashion, no matter how comfortable are jeans, leggings and sneakers.

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