Sonia Rykiel's wardrobe full of woollies, fondly trims paris with some british benevolence.
Gamine models sauntered through a playground enclosed with chicken-wire fencing, casually chatting and laughing with each other whilst, subtly, flaunting the designer's artistry. The girls posed in a myriad of school uniform tartans, layered with highland fling plaids upon a plethora of argyle sweaters. The rearranged horde of british heritage fabrics extended to fringed tweed, painted with popping colour and sometimes caressed with a literal blanket of pattern. Sonia's school girls faced winter's elements under asphyxiating furs and billowing bomber jackets with swelling sleeves but maintained a frolicking innocence with candyfloss fox stoles, rhinestoned knits and quaint bows that fell in between.
Although, trained with a coy youthful gaze, the collection had maturity combed through its roots, threaded contrastingly with parisian chemistry. Evening-wear was ripely sensual, teasing masculinity by pairing mens pyjama bottoms with a laced bustier. Patent heels, drop pearl earrings and plump red lips hinted at seasoned, sexual awakening but dispersed between boyish cuts, they simply provoked intense ambiguity.
As Nathalie Rykiel took the the runway, she danced proudly with her models punching triumph through the air, looking towards a future of success for her absent mother's brand.