Glorious Gaultier, brilliant Balenciaga, magnificent McQueen
Suzy Menkes International Herald Tribune

PARIS Three exceptional shows marked Paris fashion's long weekend. Jean Paul Gaultier defined Gallic sensuality in a witty show on a romantic theme. At Balenciaga, Nicolas Ghesquiere made wetsuits, surfing and water sports the height of cool. And Alexander McQueen unrolled a narrative saga along with beautiful clothes.

The fashion mood at the Paris shows is subdued. And the forced gaiety of Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren hit a jarring note, as did their gaudy seed-catalogue flower prints cascading in frills and flounces and inexplicably tricked out with Van Cleef Arpels diamonds. Could the cerebral design duo really have called in at the flea market like so many other fashion folk to pick up a few (bad) ideas: empire-waisted 1970s dresses reminiscent of the designers Bill Gibb and Zandra Rhodes? There were some slick tailored suits and the designers' familiar blown-up sleeves. But with an ambiance of Studio 54 or Paris's Le Palace in those ever-regurgitated 1970s, Viktor Rolf missed their habitual hit - except with the first whiff of their new rose fragrance.

At Givenchy, Julien MacDonald was even more out of sync with everything going on in fashion. His brash, flash show must have recalled his teen scene days, when from his Welsh village, he saw images of Malibu beach Barbies in the 1980s, their fringed beach wear tied up and dressed up with knots and gilded baubles. Those were also the salad days of Gianni Versace, MacDonald's fashion hero. But, unlike his eponymous London show, apart from an opening of suits with buttoned mini skirts, Sunday's effort was not so much "V" for Versace as for vulgarity.

The idea of using athletic mesh to veil legs and bodies just maybe looked passable in a sketch book. But add colors like fuchsia pink, turquoise and orange, high platform sandals and Jackie Collins hair and the result was ridiculous - and that is without the bikini panties that were the preferred lower half to team with distressed denim jackets or under a black pleated toga dress. Only the sculpted gold bangles and an occasionally simple piece like a white silk jump suit had the requisite upscale class for this quintessentially French house.

You can't blame MacDonald, who is at least trying his best to give this lame duck LVMH label a buzz. But what is the corporate strategy? To throw away the baby with the Pacific Coast swimming bath water? This week Hubert de Givenchy is lionizing the eternally youthful spirit of Audrey Hepburn in an exhibition in Budapest. Her era at the house and her iconic elegance should not have been killed off so comprehensively.

At Chloe on Sunday, the fashion temperature was at a low level, but Phoebe Philo is making a good job of taking the house back to the upscale womanly image it once had - before she worked with Stella McCartney to rev the shows up into a rock chick rave. The only vestiges of that era were a pink bra bouncing out from the front of a draped bodice and Kylie Minogue exposing her pretty white lace bra front row in similar fashion. The rest of Chloe showed Philo moving the line from girly to grown-up, ending with a parade of little black draped dresses that reflected the fluid style that Karl Lagerfeld invented for the house 35 years ago.