"She made it," declared a beaming Yohji Yamamoto after his daughter Limi's Paris debut. And papa had every reason to be proud: The collection was a walking advertisement for fashion DNA. You could tell Limi is daddy's girl by the use of volume, layering, asymmetry, and the monochromatic navy-and-white palette. (Even those squashy top hats had the tang of vintage Yohji.) But this particular chip off the old block has her own row to hoe. Feu means fire, and there's a lot of fight in Limi. From the models' bouffant shag hairdos to the strappy boots, she worked the rock attitude expressed in her own tattoos.

That was the crucial departure from Yohji's work: If he can only imagine such a girl, Limi is that girl. And it gave, for example, her cropped navy bomber over a long asymmetrical white jersey top a punky zest. But this wasn't plain old tattooed toughness, either. Limi chopped the shoulders out of jackets and the thighs out of trousers, offering artful glimpses of skin but also amplifying a kind of airiness you don't often associate with the family oeuvre. She laid sheer fabric over a full white skirt here, deconstructed a gold knit tunic over a flared skirt there. These volumes may hark back to her father's fascination with Edwardiana, but the idea looked quite seductive in a puff-sleeved trenchcoat-dress. And she scored with her models, too: Predominantly Japanese, they were a welcome respite from this season's never-ending march of the robot blondes.