Sonia Rykiel turned her shop on the Boulevard Saint-Germain into a dance club with disco balls, silver confetti-covered floors, and models who sashayed and shimmied down the narrow aisle between the chairs, blowing kisses along the way. The clothes, no surprise, were thirties by way of seventies. Among the knits were striped black-and-gold Lurex tank dresses, popcorn-stitch cardigans belted over thick ribbed biker shorts in poppy colors, and a blue-and-white S.R. logo maillot worn under a clear plastic trench trimmed in black. They shared the runway with black suits covered in little gold studs, pink silk tops and dresses inset with black lace, and a flirty floral-print dress with peekaboo cutouts in the bodice.

It was vintage Rykiel, but less retro than recent collections. There may be something about showing in her store that makes Rykiel and her daughter Nathalie design more realistically: The only things you couldn't imagine strolling down the street outside were the quilted satin looks in candy colors. By the end, those exceptions were forgotten. The girls were so sexy in their clingy striped sweaters, high-waisted leggings, and heels, the crowd would've gone home happy even without the flowing Champagne and Michael Jackson tunes.