The press notes at Vionnet were a nice gesture, thank you. But there was no comprehending what happened on Goga Ashkenazi’s fall runway. The mood on the top floor of the Centre Pompidou was set by a live performance by Camille whose conceptual vocals crescendoed to a New Age scream by the end of the show, reaching a nerve-grating pitch that might have been the one thing that made sense amid the madness.
What started off harmlessly with some draped sorbet-pink and aqua dresses vaguely in the style of Madame Vionnet escalated to include a totally see-through wire mesh cage of a cape and maxiskirt; a paint-splattered bomber over a bondage harness top and long skirt in blue window-pane plaid with sheer lace rectangles; an amorphous ivory pom-pom sweater and wispy red-and-white skirt, and a bluish purple gown fully covered in featherlike fringe. All of this made the Vionnet Mosaic bags enlarged into roller luggage, as if the models were boarding a flight to Tampa or Cleveland or Sacramento, seem practical. Wherever they were headed, they seemed a bit lost.