The Chanel show is always the big event of the season, like a little celebration in the midst of the hard-nosed elbow-wielding that goes along with the other shows, and the rest of the day felt like a holiday from the try-hard fashion world, too, with Colette Dinnigan and Kenzo both ploughing their own minimalism-free furrows. The big question every season is: what incredible, expensive, Ozymandian set will Karl Lagerfeld have constructed in the Grand Palais for the season's Chanel show? Will it be a giant iceberg? A huge golden lion? This season visitors might have experienced a momentary sense of deflation as they walked into an almost empty hall, laid out in black and white like a formal garden of Versailles.
But, as the venue's sheer size duly emphasised, this was a show that needed no frills (although the 80-strong orchestra, L'Orchestre Lamoureux, which performed symphonic versions of Björk and The Verve live was, it could be argued, a ruffle at the very least). One of Chanel's best collections in years, it featured extraordinary fabrics designed to look threadbare, moth-eaten tweeds in black and white, worn-looking jeans and beautifuly pale pink silks slashed at the seams to look as if they were 150 years old.
It was as though ghosts in an ancient country house had appeared, ready to relive the parties and gatherings of another, more genteel era. Many of the shapes of the season were there - A-line tops, bell sleeves, straight knee-length skirts, drop-waisted tiered frocks - but they were incidental: the fabrics were the stars, and among the yellowing, antiqued shades were bright flower prints, ostrich-feather trims and silvery beading.
Wrap coats and full, mid-calf skirts looked cosy, if wintery, and the lady of the house was none other than the veteran Chanel model Inès de la Fressange, returned from exile after falling out with Lagerfeld in 1989. She circumnavigated the immense set wearing a dignified black, leg-o'mutton-sleeved, long dress, like a gothic matriarch. Among the other highlights were the peach-coloured ostrich-feather dress worn by the model Carmen Kass and a lovely, rigid A-line dress made of layered black-on-white oversized fraying lace.
Also playing with the scale of lace was the Australian designer Colette Dinnigan, for whom the season's trends were a barely acknowledged foundation for her trademark prettily embellished frocks, which are guaranteed to make a girl feel like the princess in the room. Seen at close quarters, in a tiny salon in Le Meurice, the series of lovely minidresses, featuring scaled-up lace panelling, ruffles and broderie anglaise in crisp white, fluid yellow and grey silk and beaded tulles, as well as a golden brocade used on Capri pants and bloomer shorts, were supremely summery and ultimately very flattering.
The babydolls and silken smocks, patterned with a retro, painterly, souvenir-style print, will be forgiving for most, while there were plenty of figure-hugging pieces too. It may not be groundbreaking design, but this is what keeps the cogs of fashion turning: pieces that make you look good. There's a lot to be said for that. Just as the day began with a bang, it ended with a stupendous show from Kenzo, a brand celebrating its 40th anniversary. And for anyone fatigued by the neon orange shifts and dazzling white shirts of the season, this was the perfect antidote. Held in the spectacular Cirque d'Hiver, an in-the-round space that is carved, gilded and painted, adorned backstage with wonderful depictions of famous clowns, including Charlie Chaplin, this was always going to be a thrilling show.
In an almost print-free season, the collection drew on the pattern-heavy heritage of the brand, using kimono silks layered and gathered with drawstrings into relaxed, baggy shapes - pure summer comfort, worn with a contemporary pastel-coloured version of the Japanese geta shoe (wooden platform sandals). The colours were soft eau de nil and rose and the shapes forgiving. But it was at the end of the show that the real spectacle began. As the stage slowly revolved a series of models, dressed in the Kenzo take on national dress for regions from Mongolia to Scotland, came out and stood as still as porcelain dolls, Nutcracker-style, each wearing an impressive headdress, and all a riot of colour, texture and layering. This was a reminder of the Kenzo legacy - nomadic, artisanal, folkloric - and a showstoppingly beautiful finale.
