Classic twisted enough to wear

Ahhhh, as you stroll around the fashion industry for five minutes, you start to hear the term “classic with a twist.”

The designer says it, the writers use it, and the marketing executives quote it. What they mean is usually familiar and bend enough to feel fresh – stylists, and, of course, commercially.

Is that small? surely. But I've been thinking about this cliché. It applies very well to what I saw as I traversed through Paris Fashion Week. Traditional clothes and outfits leaned over me and said, “What's going on there…and do you need that?”

This is what I thought when Sigurdbank, an outspoken Dane who designed the Copenhagen label MFPEN, saw the Yankees hat while meeting coffee on Friday morning.

The hat looked like a kindergarten art project set by a hammerhead. Its faded edges were cut in half, the logo on the side was sewn on to the daughter, and the “NY” logo on the front was covered with a sample of plaid fabric held by safety pins.

He didn't take any shots in New York in particular, but he said he “has something like what's happening in Europe” and forced his hat to appear to fewer Americans.

I've seen tens of thousands of Yankees hats before, but none of the kind of Mr. Bank.

I also never saw an olive military jacket like the Andre 3000 who slid into a Kenzo show just before the music started. Here was the rarest creatures of Fashion Week. The front row celebrities are wearing their clothes. What a concept.

The jacket was shredded and shredded. Behind the musician screen-printed a photo of his son. The most won clothes are still the most personal ones.

You can't buy that great style. On Friday, I visited the Avenue Montaigne Store on Roway. This is the brand that has been skipping the runway this season as rumors are circulating about the future of creative director Jonathan Anderson.

So I discovered that a set of pens was a Pebble Grain Penny Loafers upgraded in Kermit Green. The right twist can be budget devastating.

If I had been thinking more than usual about how many clothes I should tweak this week, it was because I saw so many things because I felt overly surprising, if not the boundary.

At Kenzo, we saw a bunny suit worn in underwear. This is an outfit suitable only for deleted scenes in Harmony Colin movies. In Hodakoba, we saw a woman “dressed” with a stringless cello that she had prevented her from walking. At Vivienne Westwood, we saw the XXL lassos tie together. (Designer, stop trying to make more ties.)

Before giving these designers the venue key, someone should remind them that they can make a little adjustment.

At least a few designers have taken notes.

Rick Owens has unveiled a version of the wardrobe building blocks for women, with a continuation of the pairing at-back approach he filmed in January for the boys show.

“Occasionally, you have to pull that back a bit,” Owens said behind the scenes. He pulled it back enough.

I'm not saying that what Watanabe presented wasn't there. The sleeved moto jacket made from boots is exclusively made from double black diamond-level dresser. But trousers like flare snake skin? A black coat made of geometric panels? A leather jacket that looks like it's swallowed a hula hoop? All the classic designs have been tweaked towards something new.

That name has kept me apart for Mattieres Fécales, a label making its runway debut in Paris. (It translates into feces.) That would have been a mistake.

With the support of brand incubators at Dover Street Market, this was a sure-fire planting of flags from designers Hannah Rose Dalton and Stephen Large Baskaran. Owens's expanding universe personality, the pair met at the Montreal design school a decade ago, and are mostly known for their own alien dressing methods. (Behind the scenes of the show, Baskaran described their style as “posthuman.”) They are probably the only fledgling designers I think I already have 175,000 Instagram followers.

This is not the case. Their debut, which had been heavily liable for Mr. Owens' work and Alexander McQueen's work, flashed some true chops.

I shook the shoulders of my hourglass blazer and got an M. Peaks were high enough to remember the letters that the Seaters had been suffering carefully, and the leather jacket had shearing fecund buds at the collar and hem of the sleeves.

The model wore the theatre white makeup and witch's heels, but almost every black palette of the clothes itself easily hanged the collection. They were classics. It's a twisted classic, but still classic.