Marcella Lindeberg has moved 25 times in the past 13 years. If she's not a free spirit, I can't imagine who is. And freedom is what the name Paris 68 means to her. The radical spirit of all those French students and workers who manned the barricades in 1968 to express their disgust for the war in Vietnam has devolved into Lindeberg's collection of clothes for women who are, as she put it, "on the move all the time as mothers and wives." Women, she insisted, who were just like her, shopping for groceries and cooking for their families. That was a little hard to believe given that, at the time Lindeberg said this, she was wearing a sleeveless second-skin dress in black silk georgette, its hem a riot of vibrating tassels, its single concession to mumsiness an elasticized waist. But Lindeberg has always been a rock 'n' roll mom.

Yesterday she was creatively consulting on William Rast with her husband, Johan; today she was launching her own long-time-coming collection (Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel turned up in a show of support). And tomorrow? Are Depeche Mode in town? She'll be there. Her clothes were a reflection of Gahan/Gore's very particular rock-tastic spirit—dark, gothic, strict, but Lurex-sparkly. If the huge shoulders were a little too Balmain-esque, the tensely tailored jackets with their flaring peplums were the kind of items that scream for a rock-chick strut. The adult-diaper construction that dictated the silhouette of the pants was unfortunate. That same rock chick would probably prefer the pelmet minis with matching tights, maybe even when paired with a swirling cape. Paging Batgirl! But even the most eccentric aspects of the collection could be justified by the fact that Marcella Lindeberg is the woman these clothes were designed for. And that is true fashion integrity.