Givenchy was created by Hubert de Givenchy in 1952. The French couturier worked through the interwar period, with a modus of designing that Drusilla Beyfus described as “[intuiting] the female sartorial psyche.” The Givenchy headquarters, which are based within a 6,000 m² Hausmann building at no. 3, Avenue George V in Paris, have been in renovation since 2018. During the remodelling, the staff discovered brown paper packages of archival material hidden in the walls. It was this secret repository of patterns and ephemera, as well as the Maison's broader archive spanning 43 years, that inspired the brand’s new creative director, Sarah Burton, to hold her first show for the house within the headquarters' salon rooms. For seating, she replicated the same manila-brown folders and sack paper wrapping that formed plinths for guests to sit. 

In the scrum after the show, Burton told the slew of magazines that for her first collection she wanted to “celebrate the complexity of being a woman.” And women we saw, starting with the opening catsuit, worn by Binx Walton and printed with the branding 'Givenchy Paris.' The bodysuit was first requested by Maison Givenchy and made especially by Lébigot in black Lycra in the mid-1960s. It replicated what Vogue termed the “lucky lines” of their models. At Burton's show, there were leotards in both hyacinth pink and tart yellow. The designer gave hers an uplift with ruching at the neckline and sleeves that crossed over at the nape and open back.

The leotards gave way to a black blazer and coat in pale citrine. Both were of a briskly tailored silhouette. While some of the two-piece suits were in black wool, others, such as a suit and overcoat-trouser combination, were in an enlarged herringbone. The trousers of the suit, with a rough, raw-edged cuff, and the hem of a coat had an ombré treatment, as if left to steep in a dye bath.

The coat in pale citrine had a black leather scarf tied around the collar Fichu-style, which recalled an oversized scarf knotted around a model’s neck from a shoot by Henry Clarke for Givenchy in 1952. It stood up and away from the neck, its sinuous form resembling a jack-in-the-pulpit as it curled over the model’s shoulder. The dresses that followed offered a sportive departure. Created in a kick flare hem in contrast fabric were sheath-like revealing high-cut boy-leg underwear and shaped brassieres beneath. 

Similar deliverances were offered in Givenchy’s freeing of the form. For some couturiers working contemporaneously to Givenchy, they still designed to the proportions afforded by a tight bodice and corseted waist; this mood was embraced by Burton too. There was a snow white four-button plush wool coat, with its volume tipped to the back where it billows, whilst a strong shoulder and cropped sleeve emphasised the front as well as the black gloves and top-handle handbag the model toted. This form was repeated by a back-button jacket with an hourglass shape like a style first appearing in 1963, but here the collar was cut down the centre back with a deep ‘V’, and it had a lower revere.

Shifting from suiting-weight wools, Burton adopted heavier fabrics, often thrown into contrast within a single outfit, typically made up of separates. Burton expressed her desire to simplify the process of dressing, aligning with Givenchy's goal of creating garments that were not only more convenient, but also versatile, suitable for day-to-day, to pick and mix. The same knotted leather scarf that appeared earlier was then tied across the model's shoulders and worn alongside a black fuzzy textured bandeau and a full satin gazar skirt. The form of this skirt took that of a lopsided bow; protruding down the front, it was sprigged with spring blossoms.

There was then a black leather shirt tucked in a fitted skirt, a sleeveless blazer worn open and bare-chested with generously cut trousers, both in leather. More, more, and more black leather was seen in the form of a cocoon-shaped jacket with pockets at the breast and a collar that could be altered by using a zip that traced its edge.

The final section was where Burton hit full transmission. A sack-back coat with a self-belt tied at the waist had blossoms and birds embroidered around the bottom, a tribute to the poppies, daisies, cornflowers and anemones that Givenchy grew at his Manoir ‘Le Jonchet’. There was a satin gazar jacket with a dropped shoulder and billowing back in yellow crocus with a black belt that was sumptuous yet of soft volume.

The fit of garments was given by the tying of a belt, or elsewhere the natural waistline was in retreat. Where an hourglass shape was created, it was achieved free of the supports of a corset or tight bodice like the founder. Most of the collection, Burton described as free of being ‘overstyled,’ was also unadorned, some tailoring worn without accompaniment, i.e., anything on the bottom half. This year, the wearer will have the freedom to experiment with different hemlines, whether they are short, long, or an awkward length.

Halter neck dresses formed a ruched carapace at the front, which draped on one side as if a half-finished toile—only to fall away and reveal an entirely open back. Other garments such as jackets in the finale, unfurled with raw hems and draped panels.

In this end section, Burton adopted ‘le short’ with a series of mini tulle dresses. There was a tank top that was splendorous with large emerald, octagon and square-cut paste jewels. Elsewhere, these embellished the strap of clutch bags, or they were mismatched (intentionally) with pendalogues. A black blazer with a fitted waist had a large flap protruding from the front; the lining appeared to be calico as if it was a prototype bearing an unfinished quality. The final look was a layered tulle strapless dress in canary yellow, for as the Beatles rhapsodised, ‘I like my birds on the bright side.’ 

Throughout the collection, there was a clear act of stripping away, of going back to the silhouette; nothing felt extraneous. By progressing from a catsuit, to leotards, there was an enactment of the building up of layers as well as of momentum.

There was evidence of process, of discovery—like the time capsules in the wall of the site on George V—it’s building on legacy too. For Burton is a master tailor, but foremost a woman, designing for women. She is a designer who will embrace custom and heritage, sure, but also who won't let the past stale her variety.