The salons of 3 Avenue Georges V were buzzing with anticipation. We were gathered to witness Sarah Burton’s first show for Givenchy, perched on stacks of brown paper pattern boxes, close enough to touch the people across from us on the other side of the runway. Sunshine and early spring breezes were pouring in through the open windows and there was a sense of rightness in the fashion world. Burton, one of the industry’s most well-regarded designers, has been given the chance to tell a new story, her own story, after shepherding Alexander McQueen for a dozen years.

Yes, 73 years ago, in a hôtel particulier in the same Paris neighborhood, Hubert de Givenchy made his own debut, and, yes, Burton went back to the black-and-white images from Givenchy’s 1952 debut to inform and shape her new beginning. In a preview she said she was attracted to how graphic, stripped back, and “not fussy” it was. But this isn’t a getting-the-heritage-right situation, really. The heritage doesn’t mean all that much to all that many people. There’s the Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s connection, but the rest is hazy, if we’re being honest. What this really is, is a chance for Burton to articulate what she believes in, what she thinks is right for this moment.

The first look situated us distinctly in the here-and-now of 2025. It was a peekaboo stretch knit catsuit, bare enough to reveal the bra and briefs beneath it and stamped with the original Givenchy marque across the chest. Givenchy’s aesthetic has grown fuzzy after the brief designer tenures of the last six years, but in a matter of a few sharply tailored pieces, Burton swiftly established a definitive look: It involves a strong but soft shoulder, a curved arm with a twisting “couture seam,” and a well-defined, shaped waist. Trousers were generously cut through the legs, with an elasticized waistband for comfort.

Because she noticed that many of Givenchy’s circa ’52 designs were just as compelling from the back as the front, and because she has prodigious pattern-making skills from her McQueen days and this was the moment to show them off, sometimes Burton reversed a jacket or a coat dress so that the lapels dipped low between the shoulder blades, a sensuous gesture. Pants, too, revealed flashes of skin via deep cuts along the back seams. It’s a shame not to see those details in these pictures—they’re proof of her claim that “it has to be 360 for me.”

That goes for her dresses as well, the best of which swooped and draped from the waist, exposing the contrast of their unfinished linings. A modified version of the lace gown Elle Fanning wore to the Oscars less than a week ago was shown in a youthful short-in-front, long-in-back silhouette, and there were other micro-length options for the celebrity ingenues in the room.

If there was a wrong move at all, it was the makeup compact dress, which looked like a gambit for social media virality, an online talking point. Burton doesn’t need that kind of thing. The elegant confidence of her tailoring and dressmaking are enough; what she believes in a lot of other women are going to believe in too. You can count on seeing her hourglass gray peacoat and hourglass black leather moto on the streets of Paris this time next year.