Paired with some sensational patent leather booties and the best fashion jewelry seen in any of the four big cities, the collection was totally in line with a big trend, the sultry patrician look.
There was the odd bum note, a few horizontal striped looks that hung awkwardly and a little black dress with an ungainly shoulder hump, but they were very rare.
Exhilaratingly, the show was as much a triumph of staging as fashion, with a surging, industrial meets disco soundtrack by DJ and raconteur Ariel Wizman that jelled perfectly with the all black Thirties dancehall setting, where fans diffused light club style, and a latex catwalk was treated to look like a concrete art gallery floor. Paris at its brainy best.
A somber Elbaz took his bow to long and intense applause for his collection, prepared just weeks after the death of his mother Allegria, to whom he jetted dozens of times this winter to visit in Israel, even sketching late at night in the hospital. So if true class is the triumph of style over adversity, Alber has it in spades.
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