It was the Haider Ackermann runway, but let’s face it, it was the Timothee Chalamet show. The room started buzzing as soon as the front row seat card was discovered for Monsieur Chalamet. And when he arrived, the mop-haired wonder boy did not disappoint, wriggling out of his backpack like any other scrappy kid on the Paris Metro on a Saturday morning, but keeping his shades on Hollywood-style as he posed in blue velvet jeans, a matinee idol’s white tee and lug-soled high tops. On the runway, there were plenty of looks with Chalamet potential from his go-to for gender-pushing style since the “Call Me By Your Name” days, including a great-looking citron-bright suit with white satin lapel, a long, lean pinstripe coat, and more streetwise kimono jackets and leather pants emblazoned with fragments of Japanese text. It was a collection about tribes standing tall and being present, the designer said backstage of his collection, which also featured some Dorothy Parker bon mots here and there. “She is one of my favorite authors, a little sarcastic,” he added. (Unfortunately, Chalamet was not sharing any bon mots himself backstage.) One could certainly see signs of the tribe of Tilda (Madame Swinton, Chalamet’s other mega-wattage client,
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