Just when it seemed an uneasy fashion world had given up on thrilling and collectively decided to softball it for spring, Marc Jacobs sent out a Louis Vuitton collection that in any season would have been great. But in contrast to what came before—forays into luxury, safe plays on classics—it was pulse-quickening. In Paris, Jacobs continued what he’d started with his collection in New York: crazy fabric mash-ups, layers of references, Lurex-shot checks, snugly sashed waists. Yet now these varied elements cohered into a more urbane and highly designed collection, infused with a myriad of ideas and offering infinite wardrobe possibilities. Short, snappy skirts, sequins, and studded suede mixed with perky shouldered jackets and pajamas—all topped off by an abundance of tribal-inspired accessories. With an eye to Paris in the forties, and set to the strains of Edith Piaf’s “Non, je ne regrette rien” (another cliché he managed to present with new excitement), Jacobs seemed to be advocating an entirely different, carpe diem approach to general malaise: Throw caution to the wind, have fun getting dressed, and by all means, pile it on!