The fashion crowd are used to being ahead of the curve, but when in September last year Balmain's Christophe Decarnin sent models down the catwalk in frogged, shoulder-padded jackets, to a soundtrack of Thriller, no one could have guessed how perfectly - and poignantly - the designer would nail the upcoming zeitgeist of spring/summer 2009.
When Michael Jackson announced his tour, shortly before his death, wearing one of the label's black brocade versions - supposedly procured for him by French Vogue's fashion director Emanuelle Alt - inspiration and influence had come full circle.
The eighties trend was no passing fad; rather it was a full-throated revival and Balmain's shredded stonewash denim, Swarovski-coated mini-dresses and puffball skirts were right on the proverbial money.
And what a lot of money that is: with little from the collection selling for under £1000 (NZ$2300), it is hard to believe Decarnin's designs can have much relevance beyond the spheres of the very rich and very, very rich. Yet, in the space of two seasons and having been at the helm of Balmain for just four years, he has become the most copied designer on the planet - and one more relevant to high street shoppers than any other. The label's unique selling point of tough, rock-chick nonchalance crossed with a Dynasty-style exuberance is not intellectual - no form-disguising, thought-provoking hessian sacks here, - but it is intelligent, and it has invigorated the market from the very top (those who buy Balmain) and the very bottom (those who buy the myriad high street rehashes).
It is wearable, it is sexy and it is recognisable: it's a marketing dream, known to many as "Balmania".
The French house was founded by Pierre Balmain in 1945 - at a time when Dior and Balenciaga were titans in a burgeoning haute couture market - and garnered a reputation in Hollywood for its sleek, ultra-feminine designs; Marlene Dietrich, Sophia Loren and Vivien Leigh were all loyal customers.
After the founder's death in 1982, Gilles Dufour, then Oscar de la Renta took over as designers of the couture line, continuing a reputation for functional modern design crossed with the best of old-fashioned European luxury: fur, sumptuous wool suiting and cocktail-hour glitz.
"Keep to the basic principles of fashion," Balmain once said, "and you will always be in harmony with the latest trends, without falling prey to them." That's all very well, but what about when your label becomes a trend in itself? There's a specific style at the moment, known as The French Vogue Look, which comprises skinny legs, sharp-shouldered blazers and teeteringly high, punky ankle boots, and is worn by the aforementioned Emanuelle Alt and her boss, French Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld. It's pure Balmain, and it's how most people in fashion right now dress or would like to dress; more and more it's how the high street windows are styled, and how the woman at the bus stop is dressed too. It is not often that one catwalk show spawns such a cohesive trend, nor are collections generally translated in such a wholesale commercial manner. But there is something about the Balmain aesthetic that makes people want to emulate it. And it isn't just the high-profile publicity from celebrities who wear the clothes, like Beyonce, Rihanna and Victoria Beckham.





