Though probably a very confusing experience for its models, the spring/summer 2014 Kenzo menswear show was a fantastic spectacle. (Great clothes, too.)
Its location: L'Académie Fratellini, a famed circus school just north of Paris's city center. After enjoying complimentary fresh fruit and vegetable juices — I picked a broccoli-flavored one, I think, because I have the worst luck — showgoers filed into an arena of sorts, with blocks of seating surrounding a central, circular runway space.
There was a special Kenzo-branded SIGG water bottle on each seat. (The aluminum ones outdoorsy people take on long walks and camping trips, not that fashion people do that sort of thing because hiking boots are ugly.) I know it's considered gauche to take the freebies with you, but, goshdarnit, you can never have too many water bottles.
Like all the best theatrical productions, the show opened with curtains rising.
Four sets of wooden risers appeared behind heavy red velvet drapes, each featuring a tableau of ten male models.
Models then walked down two flights of wooden stairs to reach the stage — kind of like a Top Model runway challenge.
The forty looks showcased what Kenzo designers Carol Lim and Humberto Leon described as "a collision of city life with beach nonchalance."
Many of the strongest looks featured hand-drawn prints of waves and tidal strokes.
However, things often got a bit frantic on the runway.
Here's models walking left, right and through the middle all at once.
It also meant the spacing between models didn't always stay consistent.
The show's finale was a lot more tightly choreographed, though.
It's a simple "walk around the edge, down the center and back around the edge" job.
Here's a closeup, so we can examine the panicked models' expressions and fantastic brush-stroke printed pieces up close.
And with all their runway walking complete, the models stood around in an outward-facing circle for showgoers to take more up-close photos.
As before, their expressions ranged from "yeah, I get my photo taken a lot" nonchalance.
To slight "I'd much rather be sitting down backstage" discomfort.
And also, just maybe, to eerie, dark-shadowed "your card is marked, shutterbug" rage.
The set-up also allows ostentatious guests the opportunity to take selfies with the collection in the background.
Another challenging runway set-up came later that day courtesy of the Dior Homme show.
Models first walked a pristine white rectangular runway before navigating a hodge-podge maze of half-height mirrored walls.
Amid the mirrors, one model becomes seven!
A fun bonus: the mirrors reflected the front row from the knees down.
Also, Karl Lagerfeld sat front row but the staging probably meant nothing to him because he doesn't have a reflection.
The collection featured loosely tailored separates in a color palette moving cleverly from maroon through blue and grey into black.
Having stumbled through the runway's central maze, each model stopped and posed amid the mirrors.
Of course, as each new model (and his reflections) entered the mix, it became more confusing for the next in line.
This poor model has had enough. He just wants to be able to walk in a straight line.
And if all that confusion wasn't enough, some poor models also seemed to be getting lost underground on the Parisian Metro system.
