In Paris, Schiaparelli Returns to Couture Schiaparelli, by Marco Zanini, summer 2014 couture, in Paris. PARIS - "I loved the trousers," Carla Bruni said in her seductive whisper as she hitched up her jeans, referring to pajamas patterned with miniature tribal warriors. It was an outfit from Schiaparelli, reintroduced as a couture house on Monday after a 60-year hiatus. Elle Macpherson, the designer and model, was enthusiastic about the collection's second ensemble, a black tuxedo: "I adore jackets over evening dresses - and flat shoes." The flats themselves were works of art: sandals with plumes wafting over the instep. The tuxedo had the couture touch too. It started life on the runway as a tailored piece, then was flipped inside out to show a fluff of feathers. Other jackets also were decorated inside, for evening wear behind a sober outer surface. Even the show's bride wore a pantsuit. Here was a designer who understands the pace of a modern woman's life. The first haute couture collection by Marco Zanini was a fine effort, using the codes of the house, but not in a superficial way. There were none of "Schiap's" legendary hats shaped like shoes, although the milliner Stephen Jones had other fun ideas, such as a pointed black straw hat or a swoosh of a boat-shaped one. Schiaparelli, summer 2014 couture, in Paris. There was also some creepy, crawly jewelry, such as a sparkling spider bracelet from the French jeweler Gripoix. But Mr. Zanini said, rightly, that nothing in today's world of see-through tops and "porno chic" can really be a shock, as Schiaparelli caused in the 1930s when she painted a lobster crawling suggestively up between the legs of Wallis Simpson. Schiaparelli was "punk before punk and pop art before it happened," said Mr. Zanini, who was chosen by Diego della Valle, the Italian fashion entrepreneur, to resuscitate Schiaparelli - from couture, through ready-to-wear, to accessories. So this graceful collection, designed to be worn by a rarefied clientele, was not done just for promotion or brand building. Mr. Zanini had two aims: to make clothes relevant to the 21st century and that were "real" couture. He claimed proudly that "not one garment has seen a machine." Every stitch, each chiffon ruffle, painted polka dot, hand-cut velvet leaf and the beaded stripe on a T-shirt dress had been made by the petites mains on the brand's Place Vendôme premises, the same spot where Schiap held her crazy and dramatic "Circus" show in 1938. But at this show there were no acrobats swinging out the windows or references to Salvador Dalí, the surrealist who was Schiap's friend and partner in fashion madness. The most surreal sight was Mr. Zanini appearing at the end in a T-shirt marked "The Smiths," the British rock band of the 1980s. Some of Schiap's personal wardrobe will go on sale Thursday at Christie's in Paris, offered by the actress Marisa Berenson, the designer's granddaughter. Those pieces prove that the original designer made clothes for genuine clients and for herself. The new Schiap collection seemed authentically elegant in a whimsical way and delicious in its macaroon colors: almond green, rain-washed sky blue, or pops of strawberry to create Schiap's famous "shocking pink." The "flou," or fluid, clothes seemed more successful than the slightly lumpy reversible tailoring, but this collection still turns a new haute couture page. The last designer who started a genuine couture house in Paris was Jean Paul Gaultier in 1997. He was sitting front row and had warm words about the Schiap collection, saying: "It was beautiful, romantic, feminine, tender and modern."