Céline SS19

They say you can’t fit a square peg in a round hole, so don't bother trying. Phoebe Philo’s Céline was as much a cult of personality as Hedi Slimane’s polarizing, but extremely profitable, tenure at Saint Laurent. Her legacy was so singular in its shaping, the worst thing you could do would be to shave the edges off to plug the void. The cries of ‘blasphemy’ squared at this new chapter, while they come from a good place, fall short of the logic that threaded Philo’s craft; her minimalism might have been mistaken for conservatism, but she was nothing if not a revolutionary.

And so Hedi did what Hedi does, which is a very fine thing indeed. From the first look – a pallid, birdlike body wrapped up like a Christmas present – silhouette led the storyline, and it would either be razor-sharp and reed-thin or unctuously curved. The polka dotted and puff sleeved ‘80s minis ebbed into the pencil lines of London mod tailoring, plenty of spangly lurex, lace and leather to keep the pendulum swinging between glamor and grit. Balloon-sleeved go-go dresses crowned sheer chests with harlequin collars, and mirror ball mock necks sprouted short and stout onyx black skirts. Belying the sharp tongues of detractors, Slimane’s strung-out aesthetic saw evolution, too; those party dresses that doubled profits at his past post cut hemlines shorter still, skin-skimming and ruched and ruffled at the thigh, shoulders capped by a helmet-shaped bolero, sleeves twice the size of the waist it sheltered. Say what you want about Céline’s new woman; she’s changed, but this incarnation knows innately who she is.