You know those moments on the red carpet outside the Oscars when the TV reporter asks the starlet: "You look fabulous who are you wearing?" Judging from the scene at the spring 2005 Chanel ready-to-wear show in Paris last week, the question designers now need to answer is: "Who's wearing you?" The atmosphere inside the Carrousel du Louvre easily rivaled the showbiz frenzy of Oscar night, with hundreds of photographers and television crews swarming around Chanel designer Karl Lagerfeld's new muse, Nicole Kidman, and her favorite director, Baz (Moulin Rouge) Luhrmann. The runway was covered with surprise a red carpet; at either end, banks of paparazzi strained to seize a precious photo of the star, seated in the front row in her sleek black couture pantsuit, a white satin ribbon tied coyly at her throat. After 20 minutes of chaos, Lagerfeld's voice piped up on the p.a. system, begging the photographers to "please have the kindness to move off the podium. If not, the press and Madame Kidman cannot see the clothes and it's not very nice."
It may not be nice, but it felt inevitable. In a fashion season where commerce has triumphed over art, and where celebrities like Gwyneth Paltrow, Mick Jagger, Sofia Coppola and Ashley Judd mingled with the press at private dinner parties, the clothes as fabulous as many of them were often seemed secondary to the loud whir of the celebrity p.r. machine. Does fashion the return of the jacket, the rise and fall of hemlines matter, or is it all about the brand? "People like Mr. Arnault care about the brand," remarked one insider. "He cares about creating the energy behind the brand." The reference, of course, was to LVMH CEO Bernard Arnault, who had seemingly advised his star designer John Galliano to err on the side of commercialism in his standout Dior show, which featured an endless parade of sculpted jackets, boxy handbags and chunky platform shoes.
And brand-boosting is the order du jour. Increasingly, the commercial horsepower of houses like Dior and Chanel is enhanced by the Hollywood hookup. Boldface names are selling everywhere, from actresses hawking perfumes (Kidman for Chanel No. 5; Charlize Theron for J'Adore Dior) to Britney Spears, whose own perfume Curious is outselling many others, and to marquee names like Luhrmann and Robert Altman, who are now directing commercials for megabrands such as Chanel and Revlon.
Even without celebrities, the message is unmissable: move the merchandise. This season, more than ever, Paris designers have woken up and smelled the café au lait. Designer Nicolas Ghesquière of the Balenciaga brand, normally known for avant-garde creations, sent out a beautifully commercial collection of military-inspir ed blazers, trimmed in gold braid and punctuated with brass buttons. "I wanted to be more grown-up and more luxurious," he said after his show, which was inspired by science fiction. Smart move. Serge Weinberg, ceo of Balenciaga owner Pinault-Printemps Redoute, who usually only attends megabrand shows like Gucci and Yves Saint-Laurent, was in the front row.
Helmut Lang, who last week sold the remaining stake in his company to Prada, also went commercial, with a collection of fresh cotton suits and sexy draped and knotted jersey dresses inspired by Greek togas. And Viktor and Rolf, the Dutch duo who in March will launch their first perfume, Flowerbomb, with the cosmetics giant L'Oréal gave the safari jacket and the tuxedo a feminine edge with ribbon trim.
But no one could match Chanel where, in addition to Madame Kidman, Lagerfeld overloaded the runway with 99 models, including Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista and Amber Valetta. Each sported a rendition of the house's iconic tweed jacket, now cut in soft pastel colors, or a whiff of an evening dress in beaded chiffon. The collection was a commercial smash.
Nobody knows better than Lagerfeld that fashion goes both ways now: from the runway to the red carpet and vice versa. "He's a master of knowing how to do it at the right level," said Ron Frasch, chief merchant of Sak's Fifth Avenue. "What a coup to walk down the runway with Nicole Kidman." Indeed, it may have cost the house of Chanel millions of dollars to pull off the whole advertising stunt with Kidman, but who's counting? Last spring, at a trunk show at Bergdorf Goodman in New York City, the brand pulled in $5 million in sales in a single day. In 2004, that's a fashion coup.