The couture shows are coming to an end in Paris – compared to fashion weeks proper, couture takes so little time that I almost miss it every year. But not quite. I love looking at these incredible displays of unnecessariness, season after season. It is for my viewing pleasure only, of course: with ready-to-wear, I can afford to buy an occasional piece if I starve and live in a cave for six months, couture however is completely out of reach. In a way, this makes enjoying it a purer experience, as my judgement is never clouded by what I might potentially be able to acquire.

I had in mind to do a highlights post, picking one look from every major show (there’s quite a bit to see this year, I even liked several things from Chanel!). But then I realised that it would be completely impossible for me to choose only one Valentino dress, so I abandoned the original idea. It’s not even the best Valentino collection of recent years, but they have been so consistently excellent for many seasons now that this doesn’t mean much – it’s still awfully good. For me, Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pierpaolo Piccioli do modern couture as it should be done: it’s beautiful, but not pretending it’s still 1950. Givenchy and Margiela might be edgier, but although I love both, edge isn’t the first thing I look for in couture.

Often, I complain when collections don’t work as collections and seem to be just a number of garments shown after each other. This bothers me less with couture, as here it makes sense to focus on individual dresses and the uniqueness of every item, rather than some overarching message. With this show, I wasn’t able to identify any common thread at all – with the exception of the silhouette (long and mostly flow-y). There was everything from the pleats of ancient Greece to the dropped waists of twenties, from jackets influenced by Japan to patterns inspired by the Middle East, from sumptuous aged velvet to completely transparent fabrics. The colour scheme ranged from black to white to green and red and gold and even yellow. The other thing I generally don’t like are shows where more than 60 looks. Valentino had 67 this year. But I’m weak and will abandon my principles as soon as I’m confronted with sufficiently pretty dresses. Even if some of them are repetitive.

Sometimes, visual pleasure is enhanced by the feeling of abundance. It’s like those girl bands where everyone seems more beautiful when the band is together. But the abundance of Valentino is of a specific sort – it is at the same time very particular, detailed and precise. You always feel that every single thing has been selected with care, thought through, picked out of hundreds of inferior options: a perfect box of delights.