Just beautiful. Riccardo Tisci's Givenchy show tonight was one of those fashion moments that true believers slog through four weeks of shows for. It gave you goose bumps. Antony Hegarty of Antony and the Johnsons, a longtime friend of the designer's, performed three songs, establishing a mood that was heartfelt and tender. He opened with "You Are My Sister." Tisci, of course, is the youngest of nine children, all the others girls. This collection was the Givenchy frontman at his most personal and romantic, riffing on pieces from his eight-year history at the house, the faint whiff of nostalgia balanced by its fierce nowness.

Swarmed by friends and fans backstage, he said, "I always go to the Givenchy archives. By accident I was in the room with all my stuff, and I found things I did when I was younger that I did here in different ways. It's eight years this season that I've been at the house. I was like a gypsy—you know, gypsies are always recycling old clothes. It was really one of the most fun collections I've done in my career."

Fun for the audience, too, who checked off the references as they came strutting by on striped snakeskin boots. No one is more responsible for fashion's current fixation on the sweatshirt than Tisci; acknowledging the fact, he opened with a new one, its front emblazoned with Bambi, more Disney-cute than his previous prints. A grunge element came through in plaids and leathers, and oversize sweaters got a fair share of his attention, too; one was paired with a sheer tulle ankle-length skirt embroidered with purple and yellow flowers that called to mind the designer's panthers and lilies collection.

As boyish as the sweatshirt is, one of Tisci's big ideas this season put the accent on the feminine. A significant number of the looks were cinched at the waist with Perfectos whose tops had been shorn off—glorified belts, really, that created a provocative, peplumed silhouette. And let us not forget the flowers and paisleys, which bloomed and swirled on butch jackets and sheer femme skirts, in lush contrast to the monastic whites and blues of Spring. The models wore matching bracelets from which dangled big, engraved medals. A fitting accessory for what could very well go down as the show of the season.

BRAND: GIVENCHY  |  GIVENCHY OFFICIAL WEBSITE

Olivier Rousteing name-checked Paul Poiret and Christian Lacroix in addition to his label's founder, Pierre Balmain, today. Put them all together and you still wouldn't match the irrepressible exuberance of this young designer. Backstage he was asked if the hip-high suede boots the models wore (he called them cuissardes) were hard to put on, and he replied, "No, it's fine. At Balmain, everything is fine." The point being, Rousteing makes blingy clothes designed for going out and having a good time; if you come looking for pantsuits or a winter coat, you've got the wrong idea.

This season, even more than in the past, Rousteing embraced extremes of silhouette. Imagine Klaus Nomi performing behind David Bowie on SNL in 1979, mixed with One Thousand and One Nights, and you begin to get the picture. Shoulders were pronounced, so were hips, and sleeves flared out at the elbows before tapering to the wrists, the yin-for-yang complement to the hourglass silhouettes. Embellishments, meanwhile, were utterly next level: Leather came quilted and embroidered with diamond-shape crystals, or was cut into narrow strips and elaborately woven to resemble tweed. Some of the tailoring looked as stiff as upholstery—not even 5'11" Karlie Kloss could pull off the square-back blazer she wore over another belted jacket—but Rousteing balanced things out with draped silk charmeuse miniskirts and metallic moiré harem pants. Fuzzy angora knits, cut into a dropped-lapel blazer or one-sleeved sweaters, softened the picture further. But, like we said, these aren't clothes made for lounging. Led Zeppelin on the soundtrack cued the vibe. Where Rousteing's girl goes, the party follows.

BRAND: BALMAIN  |  BALMAIN OFFICIAL WEBSITE

Maybe it was because we caught him in the third hour of a three-hour presentation, but A.P.C.'s always-opinionated Jean Touitou was in boisterous form today. Few things escaped his judgment.

Not the current state of fashion shows: "Just one-off pieces and party dresses, no ready-to-wear," he said. Not shoes: "Women's feet are too much massacred." And not "the Frogs," as he called French men, "who have a bad reputation with sex." He had an answer for all of it with this concise 24-look lineup.

To redress the one-off situation, Touitou showed a trio of slim, slightly mod single-breasted coats. This is a winter collection we're talking about, after all. For women's poor feet, he collaborated with Nike on new sneakers. These were meant to channel American, specifically New York City, girls in the eighties, who wore running shoes to work. America is a current fixation; in the mix was a simple white sweatshirt proudly proclaiming "USA." French men, Touitou seemed to suggest, might be irredeemable. In the meantime he's hoping French women can wear A.P.C.'s one-shoulder shift designed by Vanessa Seward without being catcalled in the street. We're right there with you, Jean.

BRAND: A.P.C.   |  A.P.C. OFFICIAL WEBSITE

Olivier Rousteing has developed a bit of an America fixation. A year ago, at a presentation of his first collection for Balmain, he was talking about Las Vegas. When he was working on this Resort lineup, a trip to Miami made a big impression. You saw it not only in its South Beach colors (yellow, peach, and mint) and oversize Don Johnson proportions, but also in its Latin influences. "I'm mixed race, too," he said, "so it was beautiful to see the connection between Cuba and the U.S. there."

"Fun, happiness, and hope" were the endearingly earnest Rousteing's talking points for Resort, and we'd say he nailed all three, without killing off the sexy edge that defined the Balmainia moment under his predecessor, Christophe Decarnin.

The key silhouette here was an elongated blazer that buttoned well south of the navel and fell to about the hips, worn with loose, pleated, and cuffed trousers. There was no such oversizing with the dresses, though, which remained as mini as mini gets. Rousteing is really getting behind a silhouette with a folded-over skirt construction that creates a flaring volume at the sides of the thighs. He also gets this season's prize for novelty for a dress made from basket-weave raffia.

BRAND: BALMAIN  |  BALMAIN OFFICIAL WEBSITE

"Donatella should've modeled." That was Christopher Kane, a Versace acolyte, following the Atelier Versace show at the Ritz tonight, a few moments after the platinum-blond designer took her bow in a black patent corseted dress with a waist so tiny it rivaled those of the teenage models. The point being, this haute couture show was as Versace as Versace gets: the pastel chain mail, the hip-high slits, the scarf prints, the Medusa emblems, the bared skin. If a few crystal beads fell as models strutted down the catwalk, that kind of thing's bound to happen at the dance clubs these dresses are destined for.

"It was very emotional. I had to get up my courage to come back," Versace said after the show. Not that you'd know it from this fearless display. First off, she'd booked the Ritz hotel, home to her brother Gianni's couture shows for eight years, and not just for a show in the pool room, but also for a dinner in its restaurant, L'Espadon, followed by a disco party. Then, she recruited a celeb-packed front row: Christina Hendricks, Fan Bingbing, Pierce Brosnan, Lea Michele, Matthew Morrison, and M.I.A. had the photographers lunging across the runway for their shot. And as for the dresses, Jessica Alba put it best: "sexy, strong, warrior." Or maybe Elizabeth Banks: "Donatella's not afraid to show off a woman's body."

Lindsey Wixson opened the show in an A-line trench constructed from thin strips of ivory patent woven through rose gold buckles and cinched with a boxing belt that looked like a riff on her recent men's collection. Versace elaborated on the process for short corseted dresses made from tarot-card-print silk laminated with PVC and cut into narrow lengths; bits of flesh were visible through the slits. Later on, that game of peekaboo became even bolder. Slashes on beaded evening dresses were sutured together with strands of crystals; another dress was patched together with silk chiffon lacing from pieces of leather that were hand-cut with tiny circles and hexagons. For colors, Versace favored nudes and jewel tones that matched the cocktail rings made from yellow diamonds, emeralds, and topazes the models wore on both index fingers.

A couple of hours after the last model hit the catwalk and Donatella took her bow, the Ritz's pool had been converted into a disco, complete with a set from M.I.A. "Can you feel the spirit of Gianni in here?" a reveler asked. "I can, I can feel it." With Versace and her daughter, Allegra, grooving with Dita Von Teese and Alba in the VIP section and everybody else looking on, it was some party. Donatella's party.

BRAND: VERSACE  |  VERSACE OFFICIAL WEBSITE

Tsumori Chisato took a breather in Sedona earlier this spring, and the trip proved a starting point for her new pre-collection. But instead of pursuing a literal desert theme—although she's posted pictures of cacti and sandstone formations on her blog—the Tokyo-based designer directed herself toward a message about high-wattage flower power.

It's a graphic mix, to be sure, with Magic Marker grid patterns and oversized daisies pushing her cartoony style further toward childlike. The risk here is that no woman wants to wear her 6-year-old's doodles. In most cases, however, the hand-drawn flowers—appearing in repetition on a peasant blouse or as a single stem sprouting off a tunic dress—remained on the right side of playful, especially when paired with maxi skirts, some smocked with a quilted belt that emphasized the waist.

For a crisp, commercial counterpoint to the fluoro cuteness, the designer created a grouping with sinuous lines in carmine red, ivory, and navy. She also modified the bridge of preppy two-tone penny loafers with cat ears (it wouldn't be a Chisato collection without a feline cameo). Her spin on outdoorsy included a striped poncho and an electric blue parka with bat-wing sleeves and pylon orange trim. Meanwhile, Wallabee-inspired wedges in silver lamé veered more toward ABBA than Arizona.

Chisato's version of literal looks something like this: a limeade coat watermarked with various circles that, in a more traditional context, would have featured chinoiserie. Inside hers were a combination of emoticon smiles and winks. But far be it for anyone to decry it as kitsch; she's clearly in a happy place.

BRAND: TSUMORI CHISATO  |  TSUMORI CHISATO OFFICIAL WEBSITE