With its metallic striped floor and Rorschach shapes carved into the mirrored backdrop, the set by Glaswegian artist Jim Lambie had a hard sci-fi sheen. And the soundtrack was one of composer Philip Glass's exercises in monotone ethereality. But, insisted Marc Jacobs, "This isn't futuristic, this is NOW!" According to the designer, the collection had none of those fashion-history references he loves. In their place was a curious hybrid of high touch and high tech (making Lambie the perfect visual complement). Chinchilla and nylon vest, anyone?

Extremes of real and synthetic defined the clothes. Here a streamlined tailored wool suit or a wool and cashmere topcoat, there a nylon parka over bronze nylon trousers. And everywhere, that fur and nylon combination. City and ski-slope came together in outfit after outfit. Almost as frequent as the nylon was plush alpaca "teddy-bear" fleece. In coats, it had an extreme cuddliness that reflected this collection's only obvious reference point: There was an undeniable hint of cartoonish manga in the exaggerated proportions.

As for the accessories, shoes too went from one extreme to another, either Cuban heeled boots or a stolid hiking style. And this time round, the bags that built Vuitton included a chevron-printed carpetbag, though waiting lists are more likely to form for the sleek ponyskin tote—or perhaps the chinchilla earmuffs that Jacobs himself sported when he took his bow.