Jean Paul Gaultier

PARIS, October 10, 2003
By Rebecca Lowthorpe
For spring, Jean Paul Gaultier reprised a few of his favorite obsessions—themes he's been toying with since the eighties when he was first dubbed an enfant terrible.

His chief fixation, of course, is the corset. Incredible, really, the mileage he's gotten out of a single garment. More remarkable still is that it continues to thrill and inspire him. But this time around, the effect was more sculptural than Madonna-sexy, with jackets that sucked in the waist and skirts that clutched the behind, all lashed with intricate lacing. It was great to see this masterful couturier use his infinite skills in the ready-to-wear line—although at times, the very structure of these exquisitely crafted pieces seemed a little out of step with a season bent on floaty sweet nothings.

Gaultier got around that conundrum with his saloon girls who sported frothy chiffon dresses beneath their corset casings, or long, languid aprons with their flashy-colored cowgirl boots. There were a few punks too, sans corsets, seemingly tattooed with his trademark body stockings worn beneath wafting parkas. And, as ever, the designer issued his masculine/feminine tailoring. Nobody does an ivory pinstriped suit, or a corset, for that matter, quite like Gaultier.

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