The Top Ten Collections

Hussein Chalayan, Fall 2000 Chalayan's career is long on technological feats. Behold the jacket made from Tyvek that Björk wore on the cover of her 1995 album Post, or the Spring 2007 dresses that, with an assist from the team who worked on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, morphed eras before our eyes. But the collection that cemented the Turkish Cypriot Londoner as fashion's wizard of the avant-garde was Fall 2000. He was just 29 when he created a wooden coffee table that converted into a skirt, a set of chairs that turned into suitcases, and accompanying chair covers that

Marc Jacobs, Spring 2002Jacobs' upbeat, giddily colorful Spring 2002 collection was a hit with editors—we have a vivid memory of lusting after Erin Wasson's clingy sweater and pumpkin-colored flares—but the setting made the moment. Annexing a pier off the as-yet-unrehabbed Meatpacking District, team Jacobs staged the catwalk under a clear plastic tent, the solid back wall of which opened post-show to reveal a party space aglow with paper lanterns and the star power of guests like Sarah Jessica Parker, Hilary Swank, and Gretchen Mol. Beyond that, a fire boat sprayed jets of water into the



Lanvin, Fall 2002Easy glamour. It's not an oxymoron in the hands of Alber Elbaz, as his inaugural collection for Lanvin proved. Still, the path to reach that point had hardly been straightforward: He arrived at the French brand not long after his stint at Yves Saint Laurent was abbreviated by the entrance of Tom Ford, with a brief stopover at Krizia in between. Perhaps that's why the Moroccan-born Israeli designer wasted not a moment establishing his signatures. The raw edges, the irregular cascades of sequins and black silk ribbon, the twisted and pleated chiffon, the quirky bits of fur—all of the witty, feminine embellishments that made the house vital again were there. But Elbaz also showed he could cut mannish overcoats and pantsuits—talk about a strong foundation. What's more, look closely and you'll see indications of the accessories powerhouse Lanvin would become. On the models' feet? Early versions of Elbaz's collectible ballerina flats.

Gucci, Fall 2004It doesn't get more glam than Tom Ford's Gucci swan song. The emotional look back at a decade's worth of blockbusters—all paraded out on a plush pink fur carpet—ended with a shower of flower petals, thunderous applause, and tears aplenty. The spotlight-loving designer, who was leaving after prolonged contract negotiations had failed, had turbo-charged the storied but moribund Italian company by designing for a new kind of woman—one who was "burnished to a high gloss and bursting with predatory power" (or so we described her back then). The moment affirmed that high fashion had achieved a cultural and commercial clout to rival Hollywood's, along with the inevitable spats between stars and studios (cue the high-profile mid-decade departures of Jil Sander, Helmut Lang, and Hedi Slimane). Ford, meanwhile, walked away with Gucci stock options reportedly worth $250 million, and he has gone on to put his own name to cosmetics, sunglasses, men's tailoring, a much anticipated forthcoming women's collection, and—perhaps least surprisingly—a movie.

Maison Martin Margiela, Spring 2007Martin Margiela's Spring 2007 show wasn't high concept in the manner of his furniture collection of the previous season, and it wasn't a big models-on-trolleys production circa Spring 2006. As we put it in our review, "it seemed focused on lifting Margiela out of the marginal." That doesn't mean that the reclusive Belgian designer played it safe, however. On the contrary, the collection's linebacker padded shoulders—which we called a "distraction" at the time—proved to be game changers. You can trace the bolder shoulders that have turned up everywhere to Margiela; put simply, he reinvented the dominant silhouette in a single outing. Now that he's retired—Spring 2009 was unofficially his last effort for his namesake brand—the job of driving fashion onward is left to the likes of Balenciaga's forward-thinking Nicolas Ghesquière.

Balenciaga, Fall 2007Nicolas Ghesquière is one of the twenty-first century's most revered designers—not to mention one of its most copied. It hasn't hurt that he's had Cristobal Balenciaga's extensive archives at his fingertips since taking the creative director reins at the label in 1997, but Ghesquière has also made his name by projecting fashion fearlessly into the sci-fi future—articulated gold-plated leggings, anyone? For our money, though, the designer's most powerful and influential show was Fall 2007's multiculti collection, the inspiration for which came directly from the real world, a.k.a. the streets. And its impact is still being felt now. Look around: Ghesquière's trim, sharp-shouldered blazers are direct antecedents of today's boyfriend jackets. The khaki and olive drab jodhpurs? Not so different from this year's must-have cargos. And don't forget the show's eye-poppingly bright LEGO shoes and the instant knockoffs and subsequent lawsuit they spawned. Where were Senator Chuck Schumer and his Innovative Design Protection and Piracy Prevention Act when Ghesquière needed them?

Balmain, Spring 2009For the po-faced, it's all too much: too brazen, too sexy, too expensive. But there's no denying Christophe Decarnin changed Balmain's image overnight when he relaunched the French house for Fall 2006—gone were the elegant if matronly knee-length suits of the Oscar de la Renta era, and in their place were hardware-strewn, upper-thigh-exposing disco dresses. Still, the world at large only really developed a case of Balmainia at the Spring 2009 show. Credit for that goes to the collection's first look: a bandleader jacket with diamanté detailing and "tennis ball shoulders" that had Beyoncé and Rihanna, not to mention a who's who of fashion's top editors, clamoring to wear the style. That jacket and the show's other big hit, a black one-shoulder, crystal-smothered dress with a ragged, hip-skimming hem, ushered in a hot and sexy moment that's still reverberating.

Alexander McQueen, Spring 2010The outlandish shoes, alternately compared to armadillos, lobster claws, and "armored heads of a fantastical breed of antediluvian sea monster" (that last one was us), showed that the designer had lost none of his talent to provoke. But the real breakthrough of Alexander McQueen's Plato's Atlantis production was his embrace of digital technology. During his career, he had staged shows that were more startling or moving but few that were as prescient. Had Lady Gaga not tweeted to her one million fans that McQueen would be premiering her new single on the soundtrack, Nick Knight's SHOWstudio.com wouldn't have crashed and the collection would've been broadcast live in its entirety. A season later, designers across the fashion spectrum signed up for live streaming, but no one has come close to the spectacle of what was to be McQueen's last complete show—certainly no one else has installed a pair of gigantic cameras on roving booms to catch the runway action and the audience reaction, and played both back to us while we sat there. The future is now, McQueen seemed to be saying, and it's deeply sad that he's no longer here to forge on ahead of us.

Celine, Spring 2010After her three-year hiatus from the fashion world, Phoebe Philo's Celine runway debut was the most awaited show of the Spring 2010 season. Fans from her Chloé days were looking for something big, and the designer exceeded every overinflated expectation by playing it cool with simple leather T-shirts and high-waist, wide-leg pants; a streamlined palette of white, black, and camel; and a sporty, utilitarian sensibility. "I just thought I'd clean it up," she told Style.com with the same understatement she'd put into the clothes. It didn't take long for her fellow designers to follow suit. The Fall 2010 collections were awash in camel coats and small, square shoulder bags that owed their existence to Philo's pared-down Classic box bag for Celine. Not that we should have been surprised. The girl has a track record: It was Philo's Spring 2006 Chloé show that turned the whole world on to baby-doll dresses and platform sandals, remember?

Prada, Fall 2010How to pick just one Miuccia Prada show? She has, after all, been a fashion leader since her first black nylon handbag hit the shelves in 1985. Well, it wasn't easy, but we're going with Fall 2010. First, because the collection was a real-world refresh of some of her nineties greatest hits, complete with riffs on her signature knits and rethinks of those familiar nerdy-chic prints; second, because she shifted our collective eye from the legs to the bust, with the help of some voluptuous (at least by comparison) models like Doutzen Kroes, Catherine McNeil, and Alessandra Ambrosio; and lastly, because, well, it was her most recent outing—the latest statement in an ongoing conversation. For better or worse, fashion in the past decade has been defined by an insatiable desire for "the new," and Miuccia Prada—almost alone among her peers—has the ability to reset the agenda each season without merely catering to trends.