Sonia Rykiel

PARIS, March 3, 2006
By Nicole Phelps
Chunky ribbed turtleneck dresses, sailor pants, peacoats, and berets in black and deepest navy—Sonia Rykiel's Fall collection started with a laundry list of French gamine standbys. The models, with their frizzed hair, looked the way Madame probably did in the sixties, although it's hard to believe that she would've taken to the streets of the Left Bank in the knit pants she showed today. No one should.

As the show progressed, the designer's inner flirt emerged. Rosettes dotted the neckline of a mauve chiffon frock, feathers sprouted from a peach silk jacquard cocktail dress, and fluffy furs came in waist- and knee-length styles. None of this was exactly of the moment—Rykiel hasn't built her 30-plus-year sweater business on trends—but it would've been nice to see her try something new, or perhaps something more inspired than her silly finale. Rykiel went into full-on coquette mode at the end of the show, sending out a stream of see-through black lace baby dolls, shifts, and slipdresses. The joke was mostly lost on the non-French-speaking section of the house, but a particularly suggestive ditty on the soundtrack had the Paris editors blushing and giggling in their seats.

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