January 28, 2006 Paris
True, the pale-faced models with their streaming hair still looked like poets manqué in their multilayers of black on black, and the silhouette was still essentially that droopy elongated one that's quintessential Ann. But she had done some serious work on the cut. Jackets had a sinuous cling, reflecting her claim that she wanted to cut life into the clothes to give strength to her fragile boys.
As for the palette, it was no longer entirely a case of kill-me-now colors. There was silver leatherin trousers, boots, a double-breasted jacket, a trench. And there were also velvet jackets in rust and deep-purple.
A brut alpaca coat and a shaggy gilet, meanwhile, had a pagan glamouror as the designer herself put it, using a word one might not have expected from her lips: "elegance."