A refreshing walk in the Parc de Saint-Cloud is something Parisians like to do on a fine Sunday morning. Today citizens looked a tad startled by the convoys of black cars, disgorging somewhat frazzled hordes who barely knew what day it was and then tramped uphill looking for something. There, in a glade in a forest, they eventually found it at the end of the hour’s journey: the Celine show venue, built on a raised runway structure with a roof open to the sky.
Thank goodness it wasn’t raining.
Michael Rider said he’d planned to show his first ready-to-wear coed Celine spring collection outside of Paris because “I had a feeling that it was going to be a crazy week in Paris, with a lot of boxes,” meaning standard white show spaces. “I thought it would be nice on a Sunday if we got out of the city and to a park.” He also said that the show was “a continuation” of his last—assuming, perhaps, that everyone would have seen his debut at Celine, which took place in a resort show in Paris in July.
But this was really the first chance for many to have a proper look at Rider’s vision for Celine. In the flesh, it was full of energy, starting with three tiny, full-skirt dresses—one in black tweed, two in ’60s daisy prints—with matching underwear provided. But like many designers who are taking on houses now—Jonathan Anderson at Dior and Glenn Martens at Maison Margiela, for example—Rider’s task is both to synthesize the past of a brand and extend its pull to include multiple generations, if possible.
And it looks like Rider can indeed. What he has to play with at Celine is a treasury of fashion from the epoch-making creative directors Phoebe Philo and Hedi Slimane, plus his own take on the brand signifiers that link back to Celine’s horsey past (silk scarves being one). It would be too blunt to say that Rider sent Phoebe women and Hedi boys along his sloping spring runway, but there’s some truth in the way that the confident feminist flourishes of the Philo era and the skinny-leg, young-rockstar vibes of Slimane were crisscrossing genders as we watched. “All the parts of Celine that are good are still part of Celine,” Rider said.
There was something incredibly clean and non-messy about how he put all that together. Maybe this is his American talent for focusing, editing, and making clothes and accessories that play genuine parts in a daily wardrobe. “I would say that a certain rigor, discretion, is something we’ve been talking a lot about,” said Rider. “Celine is not a place you’re going to come to find the most outrageous, most insane fashion and be the most fabulous person in the room. But hopefully you have the best coat on.”
Not just coats. In the past, people have loved what a great trouser house Celine is, and this show had a whole variety of shapes to choose from, from skinnies to peg-top pleated yet tapered chinos, high-waist equestrian-ish, and flowy wide leg. Meanwhile, the jackets: Rider calmly served the classic navy blazer and many other variants suitable for any age or gender. And all the play with silk scarves—potentially the most ultraconservative accessory—made them capital-F fashion, turning up as rugby shirts and tied bandana-wise, draped over jackets, or made into shoulder bags.
It could all sound like boring, quiet conservative fashion, but far from it. There were very cool evening pieces, like the black silk draped tops, married with high-waist equestrian pants, or a taffeta bubble dress.
The context of the plein air venue finally fell into place. Rider is designing for a certain lifestyle, bringing it into the open, showing easy ways to style things. Indeed, some of his looks had Celine bicycle helmets slung in the crooks of arms; he said cycling has become a way of life in Paris. “I love being on a bike, and all of these really stylish kids in the studio are showing up with their helmets on their elbows,” he said. “There’s a freedom to it.”
