At this dawn of a new era for the business that Christophe Lemaire has built with his partner Sarah-Linh Tran, change is to be expected. But when Lemaire mentioned "erotic fever" as an undercurrent in today s presentation, ears pricked up. Eroticism has always insinuated itself into Lemaire s work, by dint of the simple power of the women he has individualized on his catwalks. Their absolute self-containment has always suggested they could get exactly what they wanted—if they could be bothered. Which means their powers of attraction have always been tempered by a certain offhandedness.
No longer, Lemaire seemed to be suggesting. The heat was undoubtedly turned up: more bare shoulders, more daring décolleté, maybe a heightened sense that there was nothing under some of those big beefy coats, plus a molded leather bag that Tran succinctly described as "boobs and ass." Asked to isolate exactly how the Lemaire woman has moved on, he answered: "More dangerous, less melancholic." Or, at the very least, more direct. There was a clear new confidence here, a direction that was already taking shape in the Lemaire Pre-Fall collection in January. The substantial masculine fabrics—melton, tweed, covert, and oil cloth—loaned themselves to the purposeful silhouettes, but there was also Lemaire s masterful sleight of hand that could ensure a coat, however oversize it seemed, would fit neatly, delicately at the shoulder.
Fortunately, the melancholy that was such a plangent part of the Lemaire ethos hasn t entirely been shoved into the shadows by sex. The raincoats, peacoats, and duffles still reeked of the wintry seafront at Biarritz, strolled by a woman who was content in her solitude, but alone nevertheless. And this from a design duo that very much understands that one plus one makes much more than two.
