PARIS, France —  In a season of sparkle, glittery glamour and bling bling, Yohji Yamamoto's resilient belief in the power of purity — and black — is more relevant, and reassuring, than ever. Yamamoto is the stylistic role model to those who resist the coming cacophony. There are Yohji references everywhere this season — some clear, some vague — from Jil Sander to Loewe. Meanwhile, the master himself continues being a master and doing what he does best: working black — and occasionally white, or a shot of red — into twisted, abstract, asymmetric shapes at once poetic and punk. He also continues to test the patience of his audience with infinitely long shows filled with marvellously subtle variations on the same shapes.

Today's show was epic, both in terms of length and sheer poetry. Yohji does not need to be interpreted. Like good poetry, one just needs to let the soul be touched. This show was a particularly good outing, more punk than romantic, all asymmetric angles and sharp diagonals highlighting the poignant grace of gesture. It doesn't get more Yamamoto than that.