Parisian women — adapt or adopt?
By Natasha Fraser-Cavassoni
Friday, March 2, 2007
PARIS: Each fashion season seems to generate It fever. A dedicated follower has to have the It item, whether the blouse, skirt, dress or shoe is suitable to her attributes or age.
But elite Parisians, at least traditionally, have stood clear of such fashion victim behavior.
"Parisian women are less quick to jump on a fashion band wagon," says the director Sofia Coppola. "They also like looking like women," unlike other places, where the style icon finds that 40-year-olds "are dressing the same as teenagers."
Reputedly, Parisians adapt fashion to their own styles and needs but never vice versa.
The actress Farida Khelfa, for instance, the former muse of Azzedine Alaïa and Jean Paul Gaultier, is enthusiastic about the return of high-waisted baggy pants "because I have tons of pairs and feel comfortable in them." But she will continue to steer clear of the mini length and the "girly dresses" because "they don't suit." "Knowing what works on you is key to achieving your look," she says.
Pamela Golbin, the curator of the Musée de la Mode et du Textile, offers that, as with everything in Paris, "it all dates back to Versailles." The aristocracy showed their flair through their appearance, with the king's mistresses having accessories named for them, she said.
Flashing a few centuries forward, to the journals of the couturiers Charles Frederick Worth and Paul Poiret, "French clients would modify their entire designs" because the clients felt they knew their own shapes, while the American clients would never touch one detail, Golbin said.
According to Inès de la Fressange, the former model and designer who is now the ambassador for Roger Vivier's revival, Parisians are just as proud to "transform and renew" old pieces as they are "to mix styles, periods, labels and non-labels" and are never scared of "being out of fashion."
"I think we're raised to be against the total look," says Mathilde Agostinelli, Prada's news and public relations manager in France and a recognized hostess. (Nicolas and Cecilia Sarkozy, Rothschilds and power members of le gratin, or the upper crust, are regulars in her home.) "We have less fear in stating our individuality," she says, adding, "We're less obsessed about owning the 'it' item."
In her opinion, the style setters like Carine Roitfeld of French Vogue make a point of not following the trends — "because when it's fashionable, she's already over it."
On the other hand, Pia de Brantes, a loyal Christian Lacroix client, says she has seen "quite a few fashion victims among the younger set." And as she organizes events for the luxury giant PPR, she is in contact with le tout Paris. "The young appear to be so influenced by the fashion models and are terribly label conscious. I see it with my teenage daughter: It's all about le petit truc de H & M, Zara and the bag from Gerard Darel."
Jean Touitou, the creator and owner of the fashion label APC (Ateliers de production et de Creation), is blunt about the situation: "That whole image of the cultivated chic Parisian who's a snob about her clothes — she's become a phantom." Touitou describes women who are "just elegant in themselves" as a rarefied breed, mostly because "the Anglo-Saxon's obsession with the It bag and so forth has seeped into Paris."
This of course, contrasts with de la Fressange's belief that "congratulate a French woman on her jacket and she'll immediately explain it's 100 years old." She asserts that Parisians, first and foremost, want to be respected for "their intellect and personality," dismissing fashion as frivolous.
The actor Rupert Everett, who speaks flawless French, says he has a fondness for all that "bluestocking mentality" but views de la Fressange's comments as "old guard" and that Parisians "have become just as victim-y as everyone else."
Frédéric Malle, the perfumer, agrees French women are having a "style identity crisis."
"France is still No. 1 in terms of fashion — there's no question," says the New York-based creator of the Editions de Parfums, the elite scent line. "But nowadays the younger women are less specific and too buzz sensitive. Internet-like, they zap from one thing to another and because they lack focus on themselves they are much more vulnerable to fashion."
In general, he says, there is "a terror of getting it wrong."
Jeans are often mentioned as an example of the change.
Fifteen years ago, they were strictly reserved for the weekend but now Parisian women wear them to elegant dinner parties. "And it drives my husband mad," de Brantes acknowledges.
The actress Marisa Berenson senses there is a "general lack of glamour in comparison to New York and Hollywood" and longs for "a return to more sophistication and elegance."
But Berenson senses that "the dressing down" is "very linked to the troubled political and economic climate" in Paris.
As for the endless jeans, they may be one way of "maintaining fashion's youth factor" but Berenson, the granddaughter of Elsa Schiaparelli, offers that they are "not always to be recommended," adding impishly, "I mean, haven't we already done that?"
