A haute couture garment is not so much a fashion piece as it is a work of art, crafted by hundreds of artisans. SYIDA LIZTA AMIRUL IHSAN took a sneak peek at the lavish clothes prior to the Chanel Haute Couture show in Paris recently.

The Grand Palais in Paris is transformed into a giant pipe organ stage where the show took place.

Lagerfeld (left) with Schiffer (wearing a Chanel outfit) after the show.

IT was less than 24 hours before the haute couture show and the studios above the Chanel boutique in rue Cambon in Paris were surprisingly calm. With the deadline looming, one would expect some commotion; yet in every corner, silence ruled.

The label’s maestro, Karl Lagerfeld, would pop in later to see the completed outfits but until then, the workers busied themselves with the final touches on coats and dresses before some of the world’s sought-after models parade them for the first time.

On a long worktable, a woman was diligently fraying the tulle hem of a gown with a single needle. She ran the needle through the fabric gently, respecting the garment, and at the same time, frayed the hem. Who would have thought that fraying could be done so artistically?

A grey duchesse satin dress was ornamented with scattered beads that looked like mini crystal tubes. But on closer inspection, those beads were actually individually-rolled silver foil, secured by a tiny thread. They looked very tedious to make. And there were thousands of them on that dress alone!
Those who think that fashion is frivolous must have never witnessed the blood, sweat and tears that go into the creation of each Chanel haute couture outfit. Hundreds of artisans — from seamstresses to embroiderers — contribute to the completion of a single piece.

Haute couture, often referred to as the dying art of fashion, is also the pinnacle of clothes’ craftsmanship. It is one business where no errors are tolerated and no corners are cut.

Each haute couture outfit is a piece of work that not only carries the vision of its creator, but the impeccable handiwork of everyone who lays his and her hand on it. The end product is not fashion. It is art.

Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel began her haute couture business in the 1920s from her apartment beneath the rue Cambon studios. And Chanel haute couture remains, until today, a profitable arm in the house’s business (the privately-owned company does not reveal figures), whereas for many fashion houses, it is just another prestigious image building avenue to sell the cheaper ready-to-wear lines, not to mention bags, perfumes and make-up.

Chanel has three haute couture studios or ateliers, two dealing with dresses (flou) and another, suits (tailleur).

Atelier flou manager Madame Martine looks after a dress studio and under her charge are some 20 women dealing exclusively with dresses.

Beside her, at the studio, stood a mannequin wearing the most intricately pleated dress made entirely with pleated grey silk chiffon and beads, and which, during the show, wowed the crowd for its exquisite craftsmanship.

“A haute couture dress requires, on the average, 200 hours of work,” said Madame Martine.

One woman was busy making sure the gold lamÈ lining on the inside of a dress sat well. It is part of Coco Chanel’s philosophy after all; one that she called “the perfection of invisibility”, meaning the parts that cannot be seen would still be as beautifully made as the outside.

An eye-popping piece was a white crystal-encrusted gown which came with a massive volume of pouf made with endless layers of tulle that would bob delicately on the shoulders and head of Sasha Pivavorova, who wore it for the show’s finale.

The haute couture show took less than 30 minutes (from the first model to Lagerfeld taking the customary bow) but the process of making a couture dress had begun three to six weeks before, right after Lagerfeld had sent his sketches which were then interpreted by the studio managers.

A toile or dummy outfit was then made.

It must be approved by Lagerfeld before production can begin. The different components of an outfit like beads, feathers or hats come from small, specialised firms which have been in existence for generations and passed down from fathers to sons.

With modern clothes becoming a mass-produced commodity, however, these firms have found it difficult to stay afloat. Meanwhile, the world of haute couture depends on these small companies for their artisanal handiwork and age-old techniques.

So Chanel bought them over, beginning in 2002 with Lesage, the embroidery workshop — or atelier — under the condition that they could work with other couture houses as well. A clever move indeed. Chanel secured its supplies and in doing so, helped save fashion’s dying art from being eaten alive by commercialisation.

Today, Chanel’s embroidery comes from Lesage, the shoes from Massaro (who is Lagerfeld’s personal shoemaker) and the buttons and costume jewellery from Desrues. Michel makes hats while Lemarie provides feathers. Goosens is the expert in gold and silver smithing and Guillet supplies floral accessories.

At the Lesage atelier, a 15-minute car ride away from rue Cambon (in the ninth arrondissement), it was all about beads and embroidery. There were little drawers where beads, in all possible shapes, sizes and colours live until they are called upon to decorate an outfit.

The Lesage archives store brown boxes containing the atelier’s works, dating as far back as 1912’s Schiaparelli, around the time of haute couture’s golden age.

“Chanel is different,” Emily, the assistant to Monsieur Lesage, said. “One of the nicest clients to work with because they allow us to create new things from the archives and not just replicate the motif. Some couture houses ask us to do that (replicate). It’s so unimaginative. They treat this place like a mine.”

A fashion graduate from St. Martins, Emily was busy sewing beads on tulle when the media group paid a visit to the atelier.

“Personally, what I like about Chanel is even when it is haute couture, the clothes are still wearable. You can see yourself wearing the dresses if you can afford them. They are not just statement-making pieces that are impossible to wear,” she continued.

Once all the components were ready, the final work went back to the studios where workers put the outfits together and completed the finishing touches under the eyes of the respective atelier managers.

“We are all very proud of what we do; there is a strong link between us and each dress that will be paraded on the runway,” Madame Martine said..

It was less than 30 minutes to the show. The inside of Grand Palais, near the Pont Alexandre III which crosses the river Seine, has been transformed into a round, stadium seating where a giant pipe organ with steel tubes was being constructed.

It was the hottest day of the week in Paris and the glass roof of the Grand Palais conveyed the heat to the fashionable crowd of celebrities, clients and writers from all over the globe who were busy fanning themselves with their thick, white invites.

American Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour sat in the front row. The magazine’s creative director, Grace Coddington and editor-at-large Andre Leon Talley, were there too. So were German supermodel Claudia Schiffer and singer Lenny Kravitz, as well as celebrated French photographer Patrick Demarchelier.

Everyone waited with bated breath for what Lagerfeld had in store this season, for a brand that was often seen as the gold standard in fashion.

Models wearing bob hairstyles and dresses and coats, that just 18 hours ago were still at the studios, came out one by one. And there it was ... the painstakingly pleated grey number earlier worn by the mannequin.

Directly inspired by the pipe organ, delicate tubing appeared everywhere. “It’s a visual effect that I am trying to translate in shapes, embroideries and volumes,” said Lagerfeld.

On flannel outfits, tiny tubes narrowed the waist and gave volume to the hem. On satin, silk faille or taffetas, they adorned sleeves, pockets, lapels and busts.

“These elements are stitched and embroidered. It’s totally incredible work. I wanted the result to be light and chic. I did everything so it would not be heavy or change the silhouette. It’s an absolute tour de force, a prowess of the ateliers. No machine can compete with the hand,” he said.

The feather trimmings on a tweed jacket swayed like musical notes and the dramatic wedding gown, whose bobbing tulle was the centre of attraction, signalled the finale of a 20-minute fashion parade bearing 64 looks and more than 10,000 work-hours by hundreds of workers.

After “King Karl” took his bow, the crowd clapped and one quietly wished that the applause would echo all over Paris, so the fine men and women who put the clothes together could listen to the well-deserved compliment.

• The writer’s trip to Paris for the Chanel Autumn/Winter 2008 Haute Couture Show by courtesy of Chanel Malaysia.