The Best Runway Looks From Paris Fashion Week Fall 2017

Few settings could be more dramatic than sitting under the Louvre's glass pyramid—the ultimate cross-section of classical art in the modern world. It takes quite a designer to tear your attention away from looking up, but Nicolas Ghesquière was up to the task, unveiling his fall Louis Vuitton collection.

He laid it on thick with the outerwear, kicking things off with a slick black leather coat matching the shine of satin gold bias-cut dress beneath. Elegant, edgy and cool. The next look? One of three short-sleeved jackets made of varied furs spliced together. Jaw dropping. What they were paired with (cropped, slightly flared pants in two cases, a silk skirt in one) seems a superfluous detail. 

But why stop there? A Seventies-style fur trench was belted with mega sass over an electric blue pantsuit while metal studs and grommets detailed a worn-in brown leather moto cut so precisely it could work in a boardroom. (Well, some boardrooms.)

What started as half slips in the first half the runway segued into full-on slip-dressing by the end. But this wasn't a clear-cut retread of the '90s. It was tougher and somehow more feminine thanks to laces treated to shine, mixed with other patterns and cut into looser silhouettes. 

Ghesquière showed the surprising versatility of the slip, stripping away its coyness and babydoll connotations. Here, it stomped out with tall or short combat boots, layered under covered-up turtlenecks or over textured tops, and for an unusual evening, worn with furry capelets. 

Aprés-ski sleepover at Miuccia's? Yes, please! If it were at all possible to suspend anxiety over the current state of world affairs and live in these 12 delicious minutes on the runway, Miuccia Prada offered a slice of candy-colored, retro-soaked, glamorously and girlishly unabashed fun at Miu Miu. 

Boldly colored fake fur hats, monster-sized mittens and coats added oomph to little sweaters and A-line skirts with charming wallpaper prints. Matchy-matchy knit polos and pants came out in Seventies colors and patterns tweaked ever-so-slightly to also hint at Prada's other great love, the Fifties. Many featured crystal appliques of old-school telephones and kitties instead of initials. 

Ladylike suits got feisty in pumped up pastels and fur booties, accessories with cat-eye glasses, buckled Mary-Janes or knee-high booties. Elsewhere, lingerie slipdresses were embellished with birdlike flourishes of feathers. Just because. Printed peacock dresses for day, colorful fur-collared coats, slips with puffs of fluff here and there and a sly twin kitten print unleashed the charm factor.  

Silk bombers and ski jackets accented with big-time fake fur topped silky pajamas—always finished with major earrings and necklaces and equally bejeweled shoes—solved the issue for so many women who complain about being cold when they have to get dressed up for a winter event. Another solution: protect your paillette dress with a clear plastic raincoat.

Of course, it's not possible to suspend the reality of global leaders with the emotional IQ of a toddler, flagrant posturing via nuclear tests, women's rights being stripped away and so on. But in Miu Miu's uber girly, political statement-free clothes that celebrated the power of pink (and purple, teal, cherry red, pumpkin, periwinkle and more), perhaps there is a subtle yet greater takeaway than terrific, desirable clothes. The proof is in the Prada pudding: Mrs. Prada has been on top of her game for decades, turning her family's business into a global juggernaut, a maverick calling her own shots and leading by quiet, unrelenting example. 

Ground Control to Major Karl! Major is right. As models walked out of a space station-looking hut—like straight out of The Martian—they circled a giant all-white rocket ship, so sleek and streamlined even Steve Jobs and Elon Musk would approve of the design. (And not to bury the lede—yes, it did take off, plumes of smoke and everything.) The clothes that circled it were Mod and undeniably Chanel. 

In Karl Lagerfeld's vision of space, women only wear black, ivory and silver with hits of soft pink and maybe some denim. If silver leather and shearling jackets and above-the-knee shorts, paired with black toe-capped silver gogo boots, are his version of Martian R&R gear, sign us up. 

Otherwise, the runway was heavy on boucle, done as short and skirt suits, coats, dresses and everything in between. In other words, true Chanel. The only change was in how they were styled: Some with a quilted space blankets, others with a large pouch/muff bag worn hanging from the neck, many layered over extra long knits and metallic tights. 

The knits were particularly great and at the risk of sounding gauche, practical. Practical and chic are not mutually exclusive, though. In an age when temperatures swing 25 degrees in 24 hours, a girl needs to be ready to layer up or down. Chanel's knits offered slim long-sleeved looks that worked off the texture of boucle or the metallic motif. Dress it up with some signature double cuffs (worn over the sleeve, of course), et voila. 

Lagerfeld ended with a series of spangled black dresses, jumpsuits and evening jackets encrusted with starburst embellishments and jewelry. In a smaller, edited collection—this was just shy of 50 looks whereas Spring 2017 had 86 exits and Resort 2017 had 79—Lagerfeld could focus on what's important: In the Chanel galaxy, every woman is the star. 

For fall at Alexander McQueen, Sarah Burton looked back to her childhood holidays spent in Cornwall. But instead of revisiting fashions from the near past, she channeled ancient pagan details and craftsmanship from the area's rich Celtic history. Like long strings and fringe hung from black leather and velvet body-con dresses—meant to mimic Clootie cloth strips tied to tree branches as an offering to local spirits and goddesses. 

Burton mixed such embellishments with more streamlined looks—no doubt to court retail—like turtlenecks and long swingy skirts that picked up subtly on the decorative themes. Hippie, but also kind of tough. This collection also saw a handful of gray and black suits with slightly peaked shoulders that were perfectly tailored and featured an asymmetric undone flap. 

A pale banded shearling coat kicked off a series of brocade and jacquard dresses with heavy eyelash embroidery that veered into classic bohemian Valentino territory but in drama and warrior spirit remained firmly in McQueen's world. 

Raw gemstones suspended in slim cuffs and collar necklaces mirrored the hand-done feel of the unfinished hemlines, as if every gown was made from an old material that has been in the family castle for ages. Black belts cinched every look, a contrast to the light tones that played up the powerful maiden motif. 

Whether you have a red carpet event to attend or not, a McQueen finale is always worth the watch. And Burton did not disappoint, serving up a group of sheer gowns each extraordinarily feather embroidered with flora and fauna, celebrating life's rich tapestry.