Among the slew of designer debuts in Paris this season, Glenn Martens’ coed ready-to-wear collection for Maison Margiela was technically not a first, since he already set out his vision for the brand with his Artisanal show in July. 

That haute couture collection, which tilted the Paris house in a dark, daring and DIY direction, has been snapped up by celebrities like Cate Blanchett and Lisa Manobal. 

“It feels a bit less heavy, of course,” he said of this outing. “I kind of proved myself already a bit in July — but sadly, the internet and the press doesn’t care,” Martens added with a laugh.

The million-dollar question, of course, was whether he would follow in the footsteps of his predecessor John Galliano and keep pushing the conceptual envelop with his ready-to-wear, or steer the brand back into more commercial waters.

As former creative director of the now-defunct Paris label Y/Project — where he accrued a reputation for innovative cutting and an experimental approach to fashion — and current designer-in-chief at denim juggernaut Diesel, Martens is equally well versed in both approaches. 

“I love all the quirkiness of fashion and things that don’t make any kind of sense to wear — and that’s what we have Artisanal for — but thanks to my experience at Diesel, I also do love to make clothes [that] people want to wear, which wasn’t maybe always the thing happening at Y/Project,” he said.

As students at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp, Martens and his friends used to stock up on Margiela at outlet stores. “We were living in it, and I think that’s definitely something that I wanted to bring back with this collection: to make clothes that people want to live in,” he said.

The result was a lineup that touched on key brand codes, but offered a broader assortment of categories, including a beefed-up selection of denim and the return of leather.

Guests including Kim Kardashian and Kylie Jenner let out a collective “aww” as a troupe of local children, dressed in oversize black suits, took their seats in an orchestra pit and proceeded to play wonky renditions of classical music hits.

Noting that Margiela always started with “a shoulder and a shoe,” Martens riffed on a slightly dropped shoulder shape and a heel-less shoe that he offered in a variety of styles, from pumps to boots. 

He sliced the lapels off suits and trenchcoats and gave them ties, echoing the white lab coats worn by Margiela staffers. Biker jackets and crisp white poplin shirts came with tuck-in collars, and were worn with drop-crotch pants or slipdresses bonded with plastic tape.

Among the best ideas were tailored jackets shrouded in black chiffon, leaving only a ghostly shape, and men’s jackets and coats with silk scarves fused into the neckline, for a clever trompe-l’oeil effect.

It was a pity the models didn’t collectively revolt against the mouthpieces modeled after Margiela’s four-stitch signature. In its show notes, the brand said it was to achieve a “uniformity of expression,” but distorting the face of any model — let alone veterans like Guinevere Van Seenus, Saskia de Brauw and Hanne Gaby Odiele — was at best a waste, at worst insensitive.

While this collection did not set off fireworks, it was strong enough to stand on its own — no gimmicks required.