When Alaïa’s former creative director, Pieter Mulier, abruptly announced that he was stepping down in January of this year, it was not immediately clear who might be named as his successor. Because Mulier was a distinct technical talent who had successfully revitalized the house by reinterpreting Azzedine Alaïa’s legacy for a new generation, it was clear that his successor—whoever that might be—would have big shoes to fill. This season, that task has fallen to the Alaïa Design Studio team, as Mulier’s successor remains unnamed. The process of designing a collection is always collaborative, but this one is uniquely so. The question this season was whether the lack of clear creative leadership would work in the house’s favor, potentially attracting Mulier’s eventual successor, or to its detriment.
Returning to the same venue as Mulier’s final collection for the brand, the former Fondation Cartier building, the design team put on a low-key show, both in terms of production and the garments shown. The show’s opening look was nearly as simple as it gets—a slim-fitting, long-sleeved black suit set featuring two narrow rows of buttons running down the front. As a look, it feels distinctly Pieter Mulier for Alaïa: superbly constructed, close to the body, and minimal.
The next look, however, reveals that the jacket is really a bodysuit, shown here sans trousers. The abrupt exposure of the legs feels a bit like whiplash, especially when the look is compared with its neighbors—a funeral-appropriate suit ensemble in look one and a sophisticated, high-necked skirt-and-top ensemble in look three.
Indeed, while the majority of the collection is relatively modest and highly wearable, looks two and twelve feature bodysuits that feel slightly out of place. It’s true that, being bodysuits, they’re about as body-conscious as garments can get—a key Alaïa code, particularly under Mulier. However, elsewhere in the collection, the Studio team reveals another method of paying tribute to classic Alaïa body-consciousness without exposing as much skin, namely in its use of sheer fabric.
Looks twenty-one and twenty-four, floor-length fuchsia and chocolate-brown evening gowns, respectively, are particularly good examples of sheerness being put to good use. The fabric is just opaque enough to hint more at the suggestion of skin than at skin itself, which, as everyone knows, is always sexier than simply showing it off.
The collection cycles through flowing gowns, architectural minidresses, and structured coats before closing with a series of five stunning pleated looks, inexplicably interrupted by an all-black turtleneck-and-cigarette-pants ensemble in look thirty-three. Look thirty-two, a silvery pleated jumpsuit broken at the hips with a wide cream band, is particularly invigorating, both as an outfit and as a testament to the Studio team’s immense technical chops.
Overall, the collection’s individual pieces are technically wondrous, beautiful to look at, highly wearable (as long as the bodysuits come with trousers), and feel recognizably Alaïa. The way the show is put together, however, reveals the advantages of a single creative director who bears ultimate responsibility for every aspect of a collection’s design, production, and show. While there are several recurring motifs—pleats, ruffles at the waist, black, cascading leather, sheerness—they are put together in a somewhat discombobulated manner. If, however, potential candidates are able to look past this aspect of the collection, they will find one of the most interesting open positions in the fashion industry going. Armed with the Studio team’s technical and creative skill, as well as Alaïa’s storied legacy, whoever eventually succeeds Mulier will surely have the world at their feet.
