And he didn't quite make it.

Lagerfeld's most consistent gesture was a play on proportions. Far too many of the offerings had short hems coupled with long, trailing back panels — an extreme take on the fishtail hem that manages to combine the body anxieties of the mini with the wearability problems of the train.

I feel like Michael Kors telling Daniel Vosovic "I just wanted to rip that little tab right off!" Sensibly, this back panel appears to be attached with buttons. (Although who wants to sit with two rows of buttons down her back beats me.)

Karl Lagerfeld told Times critic Cathy Horyn that he felt long dresses were insufficiently younthful.

The collection was mostly done in dark colors, with red as an accent throughout, and splashes of hot pink.

Where the designer relaxed his idée fixe into a gentler, fishtail hem shape, the results were more successful.

This chiffon dress, like the one before it, for example, look beautiful and modern.

Although that wasn't the case for this fishtail offering. A fur-edged sequined yoke? Really?

Another solid move was to play with the hem length by setting it askew — this spiral-cut black and red dress is absolutely stunning.

Yet this dress works with the exact same shape, and the level of embellishment overwhelms.

At times, the collection had an overt arts & crafts feel. That cape looks like an afghan throw someone's Grandma would crochet — although I think mine would pick better colors.

Several of the dresses in this tranche had a very grainy, 1970s feel.

One looked new in all the wrong, spangled ways.

And one? Looked like it was made out of the Lorax.

Even the suits, Chanel's signature item and ordinarily something Lagerfeld brings a lot to, were very hit...

...and miss.

And miss again! Red bouclé, leopard print, and black lace tights are far too many colors and textures to mash together.

There was one lovely, diaphanous beige chiffon dress with an asymmetric hem that didn't feel as aggressive as some of the others.

Of course, the downside of beige chiffon is that you can look naked.

The show was held at the imposing Grand Palais. In case you can't tell, those are giant, white Chanel No. 5 bottles on the set.

I totally want the black cut-out dress the woman on the right is wearing. Also, who knew Danielle Steele, center, attended the couture shows?

Perhaps she was after a little sparkler like this one? (Which, on a dark street corner, could easily be mistaken for Balmain.) Still, it's very nice to see a collection presented with sensible, beautiful footwear, instead of 7" platform shoes.

Incidentally, when Lagerfeld did give in and go long, even with a range of transparencies as here, the results were often quite lovely.

This one, too, is gorgeous.

And so is this one, although it may be the kind of thing that, if worn by Chanel's celeb clientele, would set tabloids a-muttering about a baby bump.

And this long one sort of looks like shiny, busy widow's weeds.

For the finale, Lara Stone emerged in a fishtail wedding dress, arm-in-arm with Baptiste Giabiconi. (Brad Koenig is probably crying into a silk shirt somewhere.)

Since its founding in 1987, the house of Christian Lacroix has never turned a profit. Lacroix himself has been working without pay for months. The current owners, Florida's Falic group, revealed a restructuring plan to staff on Friday that would cut the workforce from 124 to 12 by the end of this month, and effectively reduce the house to a licensing operation, trading on Lacroix's name and reputation in order to sell men's shirts and silk scarves. In order to avoid this Doomsday scenario, an angel investor would have to step forward. The house is seeking letters of intent now.


Perhaps it's fitting, then, that the collection presented in such a somber situation should be done mainly in dark colors — black and navy, with notable accents in purple, metallics, and reds. But it's not as simple as dark times dictating dark colors: Lacroix chose to work in a limited palette to showcase what he called "the classic repertory of the house, what is left, the hard disk."


And Lacroix's signature is clear in the use of tone-on-tone embroidery in the traditional Provençal style the Arles-born designer has always favored (like in that cape), the focus on backless dresses, the continued obsession with bare shoulders, and of course in the draping.


It's truly a great talent who, with no money to speak of, can conjure such perfect outfits as these out of the creative ether. This chiffon blouse, with its gorgeous broad-shouldered jacket with the right military touch, cream miniskirt, and the punctuation of the bright glove — I can't wait till fall to pull an ensemble like this together myself.


And no Lacroix show would be complete without a pouf skirt.


Or, for that matter, a coat dress with the 80s boxiness that's come back in style.


Held at the Salon des Boisiers in the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in front of an audience of only 280 people, this couture collection may be Christian Lacroix's last. If an investor for the company is not found, notwithstanding the buyer interest they might attract, these creations will never even enter production.


The show demonstrated the depth of the fashion community's goodwill. Hair and makeup teams and models all reduced their rates. (Unlike in New York, where designers pay models principally in trade, in France fashion houses are required by law to pay their show models some amount of cash.)


The food was donated, and Lacroix's own staff, as well as the embroiderers and lacemakers, worked for free. The creations were cut from bolts of fabric the house already had on hand.


Speaking of fabric choices, at first glance, this dress stands out from the rest for being a print among a sea of solid colors, but in fact it shares the same graphic quality of the line as a whole. Lacroix compared his collection to brush strokes.


And it's perhaps even more beautiful from behind.


At its conclusion, the Telegraph reports that many members of the team, and of the audience, wept. Master embroiderer Jean-François Lesage, Lacroix's good friend, also sobbed openly.


The audience gave a standing ovation.


Here's to many seasons more.

Like this one, which we could imagine actually taking flight.


The collection was presented at Dior's gray salon on Avenue Montaigne. The label's PR department tried to play the move as a return to the essence of the brand, but it can't be entirely coincidental that Dior has sought to avoid the expense of a location show in a year when all the major couture houses are expecting significant drops in orders.


Makeup artist Pat McGrath gave everyone Dovima brows.


Hat or sea anemone?


Hat.

Hat or daisy?


Hat.


John Galliano named this collection "C'est la fievre de la cabine", or Cabine Fever ("cabine" in French means both "cabin" and "dressing room.") Which explains all the lingerie-inspired touches, like visible girdles, visible slips, and visible stockings.


As well as occasional total bottomlessness.


Did we say occasional?


Clearly, the whole no pants thing remains hot for fall.


Not that Mr. Galliano doesn't throw toplessness a bone now and then!


There's a reason Tyra calls it "couture pose."


Let's hold an imaginary pose-off, right now!


Even 1987 Madonna can't deny the appeal of the clavicle-pushing shoulder hunch.


But this girl wins.


Chanel Iman's hat is giving off shades of Carrie Bradshaw's wedding.


Galliano loves his sheer fabrics. And when he can cut like that, who can blame him?


Some of these dresses, however, we have seen before.


Is this what we can expect from designers right now? Is it the economy, all those "consumers want to invest in classic pieces" warnings taken too much to heart? Whatever has driven Galliano back into the archives can't but disappoint those acquainted with the range of his genius. It remains to be seen whether customers will fork over tens of thousands for dresses that are merely beautiful.


But when he's on, he's on.