Fashion: It’s Andre & Yves

The Paris fashion world for the past two weeks has been like a solid string of Broadway openings. Behind the scenes, all was hysteria, tantrums and frantic last-minute pinning, as couturier after couturier sent out his fall and winter models in one make-or-break fashion show. It was even worse out front, where fashion editors, buyers and quick-sketch artists—most of whose skirts rode up to mid-thigh—wildly scribbled and checked programs in a furious effort to catch the new trends.

It proved an almost impossible task. If any message emerged from the pandemonium, it was that Paris this year doesn’t know where fashion is going. Skirts went from six inches above the knee (often worn with thigh-high boots) to mid-shin to ankle length (in some cases worn with frilly pantaloons). For color, black was back—hardly news to raise a cheer round the world. The results, wrote Gloria Emerson in the New York Times, “seem to be dresses for women who can’t stop rereading old love letters.” In the end, what Paris did have to say was said best in two outstanding collections: those of Yves St. Laurent and Andre Courreges.

On the Wilde Side. St. Laurent, though only 31, emerged this year—as he has for the past several seasons—as the darling of the fashion world. No matter that he has half a dozen “looks”; admirers put this down to versatility, pointing out that whatever he does he just does it better than anyone else. This year, even his black dresses somehow managed to look cheerful.

St. Laurent likes to look back to the 1920s and 1930s. Last year it was Marlene Dietrich suits and the gangster look; this year, in what was billed as homage to 84-year-old Coco Chanel, he turned out a whole series of lowwaisted, high-collared, frilly-skirted dresses that brought cheers and bravos from the spectators.

For evening wear, St. Laurent extended his dinner-jackets-for-women theme by adding Oscar Wilde-type velvet knickers with jeweled buckles and garters. His chain-belt trademark was ev erywhere. But what looked like his biggest winners were the trim, bolero-jacketed suits, with lots of fringe on suede belts. All in all, it was enough to rate Yves a ten-minute ovation.

Andre Courreges is a designer of an altogether different cut. No little gold ballroom chairs for his customers. Inside his stark white salon, the mood is discotheque, with pigtailed models frantically gyrating to earsplitting records of the Modern Jazz Quartet. His styles still echo the severe architectural geometry of his original look—the first and only new look that Paris has offered in 20 years. He still favors Mary Jane shoes and calf-length white socks, and his original miniskirt is just where he first cut it off—four inches above the knee.

What fascinates Paris buyers is that he has managed to remain Courreges while softening his line. Softer generally meant sexier. One bountiful mannequin almost frugged herself out of a sheer organdy miniskirt that was hitched by a strap in front to a little bolero top, cut short enough to expose the under-slope of her bosom. The gentlest touch of all: big imitation posies that were strewn over his pants, dresses, socks and, as an afterthought, incorporated into his models’ hairdos. “I got up early this morning and started cutting out those flowers for the hair,” said the usually shy designer, explaining how he came by his inspired finishing touch. “I knew something was missing.”