Put up-Lockdown Paris? Assume Youth and Intercourse.

0
48
Post-Lockdown Paris? Think Youth and Sex.

In sharp contrast to this, the Bluemarble show was urban until its end and took place in the midst of the strict Enlightenment geometries of the gardens of the National Archives from the 18th century (where Sofia Coppola shot a lot of “Marie Antoinette”). Crowds of fans came to support the 28-year-old French-Filipino designer Anthony Alvarez on his fifth show, an exuberant mix of streetwear, upscale styling, tailor-made elements and traditional clothing typical of Siargao, a teardrop-shaped island in the Filipino Lake where Mr. Alvarez often travels to surf in normal times.

“People are ready to reconnect,” said Alvarez from backstage. “They want to be alive, go out again, have sex, have fun, dress up.”

And it’s true that after a year and a half of staring at each other in Zoom’s terrible, unforgiving mirror, almost nothing seems more welcome than the vision of exotic creatures. Perhaps that was what made it so enjoyable to be in Paris for a dinner last week that celebrated Swedish label Acne and a new compilation of Acne Paper’s biggest hits. The dinner, held in the aisles of the Marché des Enfants Rouges, the oldest market of its kind in Paris, put a number of fashion types on its guest list: designer Martine Sitbon; Ib Kamara, the influential stylist from Sierra Leone; Barnabé Fillion, the autodidact for Aesop; British photographer Richard Burbridge (think Tom Ford campaigns); and preferably Raya Martigny.

Mx. Martigny is an Amazonian transgender model from Réunion Island, a tropical French department nearly 1,000 miles from the closest landmass, Madagascar. Well over six feet tall, it will undoubtedly attract attention in every room it enters. For the acne dinner, Mx. Martigny appeared in a tie-dyed purple pant suit not unlike one on the Vuitton Show, with a plunging neckline and nothing underneath. Her dark hair, parted in the middle, was tied tightly to her skull. Behind her a pigtail fell to the ground as thick as a hawser.

From time to time she tossed the braid a carefree toss, something like a contestant on a fashion runway. If the category was Parisian reality, it left little doubt that reality was served.