One of fashion's great architects came back from the dead on Tuesday: Cristóbal Balenciaga. The noble Spanish couturier died in 1972, but with a little hip help from Nicolas Ghesquière, the current designer, the Balenciaga vision became as fresh and as modern as anything on the winter 2006 runways.
"It's about references - it is the first time that each look has a link with the history of the house, in total or in part," said Ghesquière. "It is about rethinking Cristóbal."
Front of house, the Gucci CEO, Robert Polet, was congratulating the designer and his team for having brought Balenciaga into the black, while France's new generation actresses-with-attitude sat on the bleachers in Ghesquière's taut, body-hugging jackets worn with drainpipe jeans.
Then poof! Everything Ghesquière did last season - baroque embellishment spilling out of the skinniest of silhouettes - was outmoded. With jackets standing away from the body and brief skirts as round and stand- alone as a felted egg cozy, the models walked out in thick hose and on thick, deep platform shoes that time-traveled the outfit from the early 1960s to cyberspace. On their heads were rounded helmets, straight from the sketchbook of the master's winter 1966 collection.
The Balenciaga show was all about volume - and that is the general story of the season as designers revive egg-shaped silhouettes, usually from the 1980s.
Taking the old and making it new again was Ghesquière's challenge, and he rose to it with rounded coats and sporty jackets where the collar curved upwards to form an arc. That volume was perfectly balanced with his signature skinny pants over which the front row guest Aerin Lauder was sighing with joy.
For all that this is the age of the re- mix, no other designer has so successfully grabbed iconic pieces of a legendary brand and made them over without betraying the founding principles. Ghesquière said that his work on the archives for an upcoming exhibition at the Musée de la Mode had helped him to focus. Yet only a fashion historian could possibly know that a Cy Twombly-style black scribble on a slim white dress was from Balenciaga's own hand in the 1950s. And if Cristóbal was behind the white cabled sweater worn with a miniskirt, it looked more like the work of Balenciaga's protégé André Courrèges from the space-age 1960s.
The effect of the show was not just fashion futurism, but also a lesson in humility from a designer who has ideas of his own but also the confidence and wisdom to let the master speak.