Countless designers have costumed stars for the big screen, but few were as prolific as the formidable Yves Saint Laurent. Over the course of four decades, the couturier dressed the likes of Catherine Deneuve, Jean Seberg, Claudia Cardinale, and Romy Schneider in subversive vinyl trench coats and frothy cocktail dresses in the works of François Truffaut, Luis Buñuel, and Claude Chabrol—his striking creations frequently stealing the spotlight from the luminous leading ladies who sported them.
It’s fitting, then, that Saint Laurent’s current creative director, Anthony Vaccarello, is honoring this legacy with Saint Laurent Productions, a film production company that is the first of its kind to be run by a luxury maison, and aims to roll out bold, experimental new releases featuring costumes created by Vaccarello himself. Last spring saw the premiere of the studio’s first finished project—Pedro Almodóvar’s ravishing queer western, Strange Way of Life, starring Pedro Pascal and Ethan Hawke—at the Cannes Film Festival, while this year, a trio of releases follow in its footsteps: Jacques Audiard’s surreal, Selena Gomez-led musical Emilia Pérez; David Cronenberg’s latest arthouse horror, The Shrouds; and Paolo Sorrentino’s Naples-set Parthenope.
Here, we look back at some of the most memorable Saint Laurent looks on film, from Belle de Jour’s deceptively prim peacoats to the puff-sleeved, tulle-lined showstoppers worn by Isabelle Adjani in Luc Besson’s 1980s thriller Subway.
The Pink Panther (1963)
In Blake Edwards’s exuberant romp following a princess in exile and the suave jewel thief who’s on her tail, the elegant cocktail dresses and extravagantly bejeweled ball gowns belonging to both Claudia Cardinale’s elusive heiress and Capucine’s philandering wife come courtesy of Saint Laurent. When they head to the Alps, there are excellent après-ski looks, too, from cozy knits and cigarette trousers to elaborate hats paired with sleek jackets.
Belle de Jour (1967)
The glossy vinyl coat; the black minidress with the satin collar and cuffs; the pristine tennis white—every single look seen on Catherine Deneuve’s delicate and impossibly seductive Séverine in Luis Buñuel’s era-defining drama is spectacular. Saint Laurent’s meticulously designed wardrobe for the dissatisfied housewife whose desires are unleashed when she begins working in a brothel is by turns angelic and thrillingly kinky, capturing the dangerous duality of her double life. Most startlingly of all, though, each piece looks as modern today as it did more than five decades ago.
La Chamade (1968)
The designer outfitted the screen legend once again for Alain Cavalier’s sweeping tale of a flighty mistress who’s torn between her influential patron and a young idealist. Galavanting around Paris while dressed in buttery trench coats, roll necks, and plaid skirts, her hair tied back with a black ribbon, Deneuve’s Lucile combines glamour and poise with a hint of girlish frivolity. This is epitomized by the printed silk shirt dress with a giant pussy bow that she chooses for a stylish cocktail party, instantly recognizable in a sea of almost identical, boxy, block-colored frocks.
Mississippi Mermaid (1969)
Taken from Saint Laurent’s Rive Gauche spring 1968 collection, Deneuve’s refined yet dramatic ensembles for François Truffaut’s beguiling crime saga establish her as a quietly powerful femme fatale. They run the gamut from ruffled florals with a sculptural hat to a sequined bodysuit cut to the navel as she goes on the run—a mail-order bride who steals millions from her new husband (Jean-Paul Belmondo), disappears, and then later resurfaces as a nightclub dancer in Antibes. Even when he finally tracks her down, she manages to turn the tables, dazzling him with her charms as well as her outfits.
Max and the Junkmen (1971)
With her roster of jewel-toned velvet dresses, matching ribbons tied around her neck, sheer tights, Mary Janes, and a PVC coat to rival Belle de Jour’s, it’s impossible to take your eyes off Romy Schneider’s Lily, the lover of a small-time crook who becomes embroiled in his schemes, in Claude Sautet’s tense noir. Her looks are quintessential Saint Laurent: sumptuous, structured, sexy, and designed to be worn while wafting through crowded parties with a cigarette holder in hand.
Subway (1985)
Luc Besson’s action-packed nerve-jangler about a punkish thief (Christopher Lambert) trying to win the affection of an unhappy trophy wife (Isabelle Adjani) in the bowels of the Paris Métro sees the latter sport some sharp, hard-shouldered Saint Laurent suiting. But it’s her black tulle ensemble that’s guaranteed to make your jaw drop: layers of ruffles atop a grey taffeta full skirt, finished off with diamond bracelets, gigantic face-framing earrings, and a spiky bob. Even in this surreal subterranean world, with all of its wildly eccentric characters, no one can compete with her.
