From Tom Ford to Schiaparelli, it's time for identity, kindness and connection

After the generalised reset and generational change last September, the Paris fashion show season underway until next Tuesday would appear to be one of consolidation, clarification, deepening.

Haider Ackermann, from Tom Ford, continues to hone an electrifying counterpoint of rigour and abandon, while promoting a perverse idea of elegance. This season, the theme is "infinite variety": a cross-section of human types strolling through a dazzling white space, each at their own pace, each with their own story captured in a mix of impeccable tailoring, leather, slutty dresses, rebellious denim and transparent PVC worthy of Patrick Bateman, Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho. 'They've all flirted with debauched in the past, now they're pulling straight,' she says.

At Dries Van Noten, Julian Klausner embarks on a journey around the most exotic and ineffable theme there is: the construction of identity in the last stages of youth, just before everything becomes established. He does this in true Dries style, taking cues from here and there, mixing school uniforms, decorations, men's clothing, homemade sweaters and hints of other cultures. As familiar as the language seems, there's a fresh, forthright rawness that is all Klausner, and it's why this creative is evolving Dries so convincingly.

The ticking of a clock and then the ringing of the alarm clock set the rhythm for the Courrèges fashion show: a reflection on time, resolved in a theory of clean-cut, geometric dresses, which are put on in a flash - and then taken off: the sexual charge that Nicholas Di Felice, the creative director, infuses everywhere is always detonating. Just two non-colours, black and white, and a sequence that starts with a draped sheet and ends the same way, like a turn of the clock.

Reduction is the watchword of Pieter Mulier's latest effort for Alaïa. The collection that concludes his five-year term as creative director (he will take up his post at Versace on 1 July) is the most Azzedine he has ever thought of: body-hugging, rigorous, seductive, a veritable vocabulary of shapes and pieces. It is an intelligent and sensible way of passing the baton: consolidating the foundations so that whoever comes next can carry on. Chemena Kamali, from Chloé, reflects on humanity, empathy, devotion; on the touch of the hand that makes everything unique; on fashion as connection and not escape. These are cogent concepts, which on the catwalk, however, translate into a textbook proof of boho chic, long-winded and predictable, with the only novelty being the prairie folk, which, however, gets lost in the formulaic mix of the Chloé girl.