“Adventuress” is a deliciously double-edged title that was utilized in 19th- and early-20th-century England to explain invariably sizzling girls who had been exterior the bounds of “society” and apparently set on their insertion into it. From the niggles, titters, and whispers that Goga Ashkenazi—the commodities-pumped proprietor of Vionnet—typically attracts, one suspects that a century in the past she would have been labeled an “adventuress.” As we speak, although, it looks as if what it’s: snobbery, pure and easy.

Ashkenazi’s venture at Vionnet is honest if generally touched by naivety. As we speak, fueled by the insertion of Hussein Chalayan into her crew, she introduced a set that convincingly tipped its hat to Madame Vionnet herself—verify Pinterest, y’all—plus included Vionnet’s personal classical supply code. Beneath the breathy wind of mood-board romanticism—spanning from Peter Doig’s canoe work to Byron’s “She Walks in Magnificence”—this assortment was at its essence a bunch of bias-cut shades-of-nude column attire with flanks of plissé and typically iffy paneling, jazzed up with odd handmaiden flying buttresses, weighed down by sewn-in stones.

There have been unlucky diversions: A sheer paneled black gown featured a crisscross of reduction cutely taken from an upskirt photograph of the Eiffel Tower, but it surely was nonetheless a too-sheer black costume. However the sublimations of Doric aid and go-to nymph adornment onto half-caped trouser fits with sneaker-meets-gladiator sandals represented the whisper of a Platonically touched preferrred spanning then and now. Titter ye not: Vionnet is okay.