PARIS FASHION WEEK – SARA DAL MONTE

STELLA MCCARTNEY
By Sara Dal Monte

I watched Stella McCartney’s show hoping for that click that makes you sit up straighter. It never came. I recognize the consistency of her message and language, but the result felt like a long replay of familiar themes, neatly arranged and light on risk. It wants to be responsible and contemporary, but lands as polite rather than necessary.

The construction is smooth, yet rarely gripping. The menswear-tailored suits don’t add a new line, the slip dresses offer a tidy, predictable sensuality, and the sporty inserts feel more like filler than an idea. Too often it read as a wardrobe already on the sales floor—shiny and ready, not especially memorable. A runway needs a reason to stick; here, the reason is hard to find.

I’m not questioning the ethical framework or material research, which I respect. What’s missing is a formal spark: a cut that shifts the eye, a proportion that makes you reconsider the body, a detail capable of turning a garment into an image. When everything is this correct, the feeling slides off. It’s like a perfectly played song that never changes key.

Accessories fare better. Some bags have a convincing industrial clarity, with crisp volumes and thoughtful handles, and a few metallic accents provide the only real “beat” of the show. The shoes, in the leaner styles, give the looks a credible stride. Those were the moments when I felt an idea get close to real life with a bit of character.

The rest hovers in cautious balance. It doesn’t ask much of the eye; it doesn’t ask much of the body. I understand the desire for wearability, but wearability isn’t the absence of risk. It’s risk resolved well. Here, subtraction turns into caution, and caution, over time, slips into flatness.

My takeaway: a clean, respectable collection. I’m not arguing with restraint; I’m arguing with inertia. In a week that demands clear visions, this show leaves me little to take home beyond a few solid accessories. No real opening. And when I leave a runway, I need at least one slit where the light gets in.

GALLERY

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Sara Dal Monte

Digital Journalist | Photographer | Art Director

Los Angeles • Sure-Com America

saradalmontestyle.com
@saradalmontestyle

Measured elegance, desire close to real life

Paris lifts the curtain with that unmistakable rhythm: polished historic rooms, invitations in motion, eyes taking measure of the night. In this setting, Louis Vuitton’s opener set the tone with a deliberate choice: no gratuitous fireworks, plenty of construction. Nicolas Ghesquière works on cut and posture more than effect, as if each look were a frame already edited into a larger story.

First impression: clarity. The body is drawn without stiffness—waists defined yet mobile, clean shoulders, hips that round and return, hems that serve the stride. Materials do the quiet work: fine fabrics that veil and reveal with discipline, matte surfaces that absorb light and return it only where needed, dark seaming that traces the figure like pencil on paper. The palette stays intentional—sand, taupe, white, black—with a metallic flash at the shoes sharpening the walk.

This isn’t nostalgia; it’s editing. The archive registers like a soft echo, guiding without crowding the scene. Long drapes follow movement, tops hint at armor then relax, skirts wrap the figure without turning into sculpture. Even when volume rises, proportions remain human. That’s the difference between a dress that asks for attention and a dress that earns it.

Accessories seal the argument. The bags read as objects rather than emblems—full shells with compass-drawn profiles, handles that invite a natural gesture, straps that follow instead of dictating a pose. Footwear becomes the metronome: pointed shapes that lengthen without aggression, sandals slicing light like a thin line, polished ankle boots turning the step into a graphic mark. Headpieces and jewelry stay in subtraction, used like punctuation.

There’s also an idea of intimacy brought outside with measure. You sense an interior life through touch—knit draped over shoulders, a belt placed not to cinch but to order. It’s comfort that straightens your back rather than letting it sink. In a week that often confuses quantity with impact, this calm is a stance: less noise, more editing.

The sensuality runs straight, without coyness. I can place these clothes in the real day of someone who works, travels, and changes scene more than once. They don’t beg for applause; they’re meant to be lived in. The surprise here is control: being able to do more and choosing to do what’s right. It’s an elegant way to open Paris and shift attention to what matters instead of the stunt.

The opening takeaway is clear: precision, wearability, and a femininity that doesn’t need to shout. Louis Vuitton opts for the quieter voice, the one that carries farther. If this Paris Fashion Week is going to find a new balance between spectacle and the everyday, starting here makes sense. Desire moves closer to life without losing power—and for a week that still has a lot to say, that’s a worthy beginning.

GALLERY