You can take the boy out of the country, but….
Simon Porte Jacquemus hasn’t bleached his past as some designers do, proud of his pastoral roots in Provence — one side of the family farming carrots; the other, artichokes and spinach.
His mood board was dominated by hardworking folks in the fields, or selling their crops on roadsides, including one of his grandmother Claire, all in black, squinting into the sun and proudly posing with three baskets of her magnificent green produce.
The show was more autobiographical than usual, true to the designer’s upscaling drive and increased interest in couture techniques, but with an emotional tug in the way he invited aprons, petticoats, fichu collars, plus fours and kerchiefs into his fashion universe.
He titled the collection “Le Paysan,” or “The Peasant,” in English.
Famed for his transporting destination shows — in lavender fields, salt flats or stately homes — Jacquemus returned to the Palace of Versailles, this time repairing to its Orangerie, left in its raw, cavernous state and appointed with a single row of wooden chairs offering views of the potted trees outside through open windows.
During a preview, Jacquemus said his family, despite its modest means, never discouraged him from dreaming about a fashion career. Hence, his mother came to pick up her 8-year-old son from school proudly wearing a skirt he had assembled haphazardly from linen curtains and some Converse shoelaces.
A masterful storyteller on social media, the designer recreated such a scene in his teaser clips, one depicting a blonde boy gazing with wonder at the lady behind the wheel — and no doubt thinking about Paris ateliers and runways.
He opened his show on Sunday afternoon with a blonde tot bounding down the runway and opening a tall door for the models to enter from the gardens — a childhood dream become reality.
On the runway, his fields-to-catwalk narrative came to life in a surfeit of sack dresses and smock tops, some too oversized, and generous, full-circle skirts worn like aprons, the fabric piled up in dense folds at the front.
He also included simpler tank dresses with the same apron effect, only reduced, and these were lovely in cream and black.
He worked plain fabrics like cotton poplin and linen into impressive geometric volumes, a few dresses tiered to resemble Christmas trees, and a leather jacket took on the almond shape of a Callison, a French delicacy made with that nut and candied fruit.
He didn’t completely forsake the summery sensuality for which the brand has been prized. There were batwing gowns in chiffon, and halter-neck styles in embroidered tulle that drifted around the body.
Guests included Matthew McConaughey and his wife Camila Alves, in matching white jackets, singer Aya Nakamura, in a diaphanous maxi dress, and Emma Roberts, who bravely paired her white tutu with a black sweater.
Asked what kind of a king he is, McConaughey replied: “A father.” The actor’s son, Levi, made his fashion week debut earlier in the week by attending the Dior show.
Gillian Anderson said while she’s “definitely” up for playing a French queen, the closest she has gotten is her role as Catherine the Great’s mother in TV series “The Great.”
“It feels very similar to that. You can imagine those dresses with the panniers walking through the halls like this, but I’ve never been here before and it’s beyond what one imagines it might be,” she marveled. “It’s a shame not to be able to just kind of disappear and wander down the hallways.”
The “Sex Education” star was preparing to head to an even hotter destination: Tangier. She will perform in “The Cherry Orchard” for one night only, as part of a charity gala. “It will be very hot, it sounds very exotic,” she said before the show.
Perhaps because of the scale of the place — the main gallery stretches almost 500 feet, and took the models ages to traverse — the show never really took flight, though there were touching gestures, as when a model held a straw hat to his chest — or clutched a leather pouch resembling a single leek.
The men’s looks felt a tad more elevated than usual, the tailored ensembles winking to the British aristocrats who frequented Provence back in his grandparents’ time, but also humble, stripped of lapels and in drab shades. The designer mentioned that menswear now accounts for nearly half of his ready-to-wear business in direct channels of distributions.
During the preview, Jacquemus didn’t sugarcoat the challenge of operating during a slowdown, even if he recently took on French beauty giant L’Oréal as a minority partner.
He said he’s encouraged by robust sell-throughs of runway looks with four-figure price tags, but realistic about the need to cull some wholesale accounts and funnel resources into more freestanding stores, including one in the Miami Design District for 2026.
“It’s a fight to be an independent (designer) in Paris from another social background,” he said. “People think, ‘Oh, Jacquemus is everywhere, it’s famous. But you know, it’s an everyday fight. I don’t rest.”
You might say fashion, like farming, is also a profession of hope.
— With contributions from Joelle Diderich