Christian Dior hit headlines in 1947 with the arrival of the "New Look," a silhouette that would set the stage, define, and eventually destroy his life, as well as shape modern fashion. The soul of Dior, withheld by both Dior himself and Yves Saint Laurent, lies within the fresh folds of a new silhouette, a feat that is tricky to live up to. Raf Simmons brings beautiful, interesting, and salable clothes to the house, which is the closest thing to "new," and the definition of "success," these days. A "new look" is now replaced by a newish motif, and this season's newness took the form of a scalloped edge; a simple, yet ornate detail. This detail was slapped on to almost every piece, most notably being seemingly-shrunken sweaters that have my bet for commercial-cult-piece of the season (and that's saying something because this season was chockfull of commercial-cult-pieces.) Every season I think of how tiring it must be to run a storied house such as Dior; commerciality must be kept at the forefront of one's mind, while also introducing relatively new ideas. "Relatively" because nothing in fashion is truly ever new. Fashion represents life, and life is a series of emotions played and replayed in varying degrees, layers, and orders, but in the end there are no different emotions to be discovered, and the same goes for fashion. Fashion is about the exploitation and manipulation of innocent, new ideas, and eventually that idea turns just as hackneyed and tiring as the one before it. There may have been a time, Christian Dior's time, when fashion could be new and explosive but the relentless and unforgiving cycle of today's fashion doesn't allow for such exploration. But Raf tries his best, which is more than can be said for a number of designers.