I don't think there's a thread on this. Some of the collections are iffy but some should undoubtedly be on the list. I'm surprised no YSL showed up.
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Hussein Chalayan, Fall 2000
Chalayan's career is long on technological feats. Behold the jacket made from Tyvek that Björk wore on the cover of her 1995 album Post, or the Spring 2007 dresses that, with an assist from the team who worked on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, morphed eras before our eyes. But the collection that cemented the Turkish Cypriot Londoner as fashion's wizard of the avant-garde was Fall 2000. He was just 29 when he created a wooden coffee table that converted into a skirt, a set of chairs that turned into suitcases, and accompanying chair covers that became shift dresses. At the end of the show, the models walked off the stage with their living room on their backs. Did spectacle trump practicality? Oh, yes—gloriously, unforgettably so.
Marc Jacobs, Spring 2002 Jacobs' upbeat, giddily colorful Spring 2002 collection was a hit with editors—we have a vivid memory of lusting after Erin Wasson's clingy sweater and pumpkin-colored flares—but the setting made the moment. Annexing a pier off the as-yet-unrehabbed Meatpacking District, team Jacobs staged the catwalk under a clear plastic tent, the solid back wall of which opened post-show to reveal a party space aglow with paper lanterns and the star power of guests like Sarah Jessica Parker, Hilary Swank, and Gretchen Mol. Beyond that, a fire boat sprayed jets of water into the Hudson. The designer set the bar that night: Afterward, elaborate sets would become de rigueur for him, and we all know about his after-parties. Indeed, revelers celebrated into the wee hours of September 11. And then they woke up to a different world. The evening was one of Jacobs'—and New York fashion's—all-time highs, and it happened the night before we lost our innocence.
Lanvin, Fall 2002 Easy glamour. It's not an oxymoron in the hands of Alber Elbaz, as his inaugural collection for Lanvin proved. Still, the path to reach that point had hardly been straightforward: He arrived at the French brand not long after his stint at Yves Saint Laurent was abbreviated by the entrance of Tom Ford, with a brief stopover at Krizia in between. Perhaps that's why the Moroccan-born Israeli designer wasted not a moment establishing his signatures. The raw edges, the irregular cascades of sequins and black silk ribbon, the twisted and pleated chiffon, the quirky bits of fur—all of the witty, feminine embellishments that made the house vital again were there. But Elbaz also showed he could cut mannish overcoats and pantsuits—talk about a strong foundation. What's more, look closely and you'll see indications of the accessories powerhouse Lanvin would become. On the models' feet? Early versions of Elbaz's collectible ballerina flats.
Gucci, Fall 2004It doesn't get more glam than Tom Ford's Gucci swan song. The emotional look back at a decade's worth of blockbusters—all paraded out on a plush pink fur carpet—ended with a shower of flower petals, thunderous applause, and tears aplenty. The spotlight-loving designer, who was leaving after prolonged contract negotiations had failed, had turbo-charged the storied but moribund Italian company by designing for a new kind of woman—one who was "burnished to a high gloss and bursting with predatory power" (or so we described her back then). The moment affirmed that high fashion had achieved a cultural and commercial clout to rival Hollywood's, along with the inevitable spats between stars and studios (cue the high-profile mid-decade departures of Jil Sander, Helmut Lang, and Hedi Slimane). Ford, meanwhile, walked away with Gucci stock options reportedly worth $250 million, and he has gone on to put his own name to cosmetics, sunglasses, men's tailoring, a much anticipated forthcoming women's collection, and—perhaps least surprisingly—a movie.
Maison Martin Margiela, Spring 2007 Martin Margiela's Spring 2007 show wasn't high concept in the manner of his furniture collection of the previous season, and it wasn't a big models-on-trolleys production circa Spring 2006. As we put it in our review, "it seemed focused on lifting Margiela out of the marginal." That doesn't mean that the reclusive Belgian designer played it safe, however. On the contrary, the collection's linebacker padded shoulders—which we called a "distraction" at the time—proved to be game changers. You can trace the bolder shoulders that have turned up everywhere to Margiela; put simply, he reinvented the dominant silhouette in a single outing. Now that he's retired—Spring 2009 was unofficially his last effort for his namesake brand—the job of driving fashion onward is left to the likes of Balenciaga's forward-thinking Nicolas Ghesquière.
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