Couture start-ups end week of high fashion

On Aura Tout Vu's paper invite was not the traditional, understated haute couture invitation. With its collage of guitar wielding girls, dragons and monster frogs, it bore a closer resemblance to a 16-year-old girl's birthday party poster than a fashion show attendance request.

Same went for the catwalk. Small, and nestled among trees in a corner of Palais Royal, its opening was another monster frog (with fangs), though this time constructed from transparent blow-up plastic. Haute couture this was not. Krazy Kouture? Perhaps.

It started with a blonde in a gown with - you guessed it - monsters perched on each shoulder (Lady Gaga was an inspiration). But the major theme was the deep blue sea. Think seaweed, blowfish handbags, scaly dresses and a gown dripping with gaudy black shellfish. Whether this new guard will overtake the old remains to be seen, but the label's muse is reportedly already a fan - Ms Gaga recently purchased several looks.

Over at another couture start-up, Maison Rabih Kayrouz (established in 1997, it's an infant in comparison with most couture houses), a discreet door hid a perfect grassy garden party filled with natural light and birdsong.

Inside, I spotted my old friend Take Hirakawa, who told me that he's hard at work on his memoirs at present; a 25-years-in-the-making book filled with interviews, articles and essays from his career as one of Japan's foremost fashion journalists. Look out for it next year in Japanese or English.

With grass as the catwalk, the show featured vibrant colours, delicate skin and bare feet. Oranges, lime greens, sky blues and sunny yellows took shape in silk dresses with weightless external pleats and deep vee fronts and backs.

The piece-de-resistance was a peachy shell-coloured dress that floated over a cream bodysuit, reminding me of Botticelli's Birth of Venus.

The final show of the week was Valentino. Held at Place Vendome, the square was crawling with screaming teenagers. For the record, this is not a common fashion show occurrence. Maybe during the women's ready to wear collections, definitely at a Twilight premiere, but not at an haute couture presentation.

They were there for a noble purpose - and one of my favourite pastimes - a bit of celebrity spotting.

Jessica Alba had apparently already gone in by the time I arrived, but The City's Olivia Palermo drew cries, Natalia Vodianova got cheers, and Clare Danes brought the house down. Kids were crying, paparazzi were shouting and security guards were shoving.

There's a real distinction between the photographers outside the shows. On one side, you've got the high brow streetstyle guys who are there for one reason - to snap the seriously well-dressed. On the other side you've got the paparazzi who'll go crazy for anybody with a minutely recognisable face.

There's only one person who can get both camps scrambling for the shot and that's Anna Wintour. Always early to arrive and first to leave, when she walked out of Valentino this evening she was chased by every person with a camera. After she drove off in her unmarked Mercedes, the group dispersed.

I overheard a streetstyle veteran saying to her friend, "Well, that's that then. The week's over. Anna's gone home, I guess we can too."

With those words, I put my camera back in my bag and began the long walk to the nearest subway station.