Couture Is Fun but Not for All Francois Mori/Associated Press Karl Lagerfeld with Lindsey Wixson in Chanel couture bridal attire. IT'S been awhile since a plain coat and dress produced an ecstatic reaction at the Paris couture. What's going to happen to the rest of fashion? Raf Simons used his old noggin to create a collection for Dior, his very first involving the fine hands of couture, and it got everyone talking and thinking. To be sure, a few ready-to-wear designers are capable of making a sculptural black jacket and pair of cigarette pants that would look every bit as sharp as Dior's new "smoking." Certainly Azzedine Alaïa and Narciso Rodriguez could. And the pretty two-sided evening dresses, with the back piece based on an archival embroidery and the front done in a more modern, graphic spirit, seemed right up Sarah Burton's alley. But nothing can compete with a big couture house. Mr. Simons, who has staged some magical shows during his career, often on a dime, probably had the idea of flower-covered walls for a while. Dior could actually make it happen - no problem. Such freedom and wherewithal must be exhilarating to a creative person, but especially to one who is serious. Mr. Simons had about two months to prepare his collection, not counting the time he spent in the archive and getting acquainted with Dior's workers and suppliers. Just imagine what he'll do in two years" time. The thing is, fashion is a rotten, rotten business. Tough. Full of compromises and shallow values. Designers complain, rightly, that they don't have enough time to design. The world is awash in goods. Psychologically, then, couture is necessary, maybe more than ever. In the 1970s and "80s, its relevance was challenged by one hostile or indifferent group after another, though mainly working women who didn't have time for all that froufrou. Now, though, couture seems like paradise - a think tank but way more fun. Best of all, it's not for everyone. "It's not a red-carpet opportunity," Karl Lagerfeld said last week in the Chanel studio. He paused to look at a model in a silver-sequined gown dotted with fluffy white balls, like the tails of Playboy bunnies. It was pure silliness. "We've had clients cancel an order after seeing their dress on a celebrity," he said. But beyond exclusivity and skilled hands, what makes something couture and emphatically not ready-to-wear? I kept wondering about that after Mr. Simons's show. Above all, he seems interested in seeing the contemporary woman come through in the natural architecture of the clothes, to be elevated by decoration and new colors rather than impeded by them. As much as the clothes seek a connection to Dior's past, they really throw a lifeline toward some point in the future. Other designers have their own view of couture. Donatella Versace uses it to load more handcraft into her glamorous gowns and bustiers - to good effect this season. And she let loose with more fantasy, dunking her chiffon gowns in pool blues and greens. Looking at Riccardo Tisci's Gypsy-inspired wraps, shieldlike bodices and the blood-red drops of crystals on pale lace, one senses that couture is nothing short of a battle. Tinted goggle glasses cover the face like a mask and, like many details in the small collection, could be traced to Givenchy in the "60s. That says a lot: Givenchy was a swinging label. With Mr. Tisci, female strength overrides every other quality of character. That's a pretty one-dimensional view. His women may not be buried in ruffles or old-time couture shapes, the fate of Giambattista Valli's gals, but they're not free, either. By all means Mr. Tisci should do couture - he's too talented - but he might want to question the results. For Bouchra Jarrar, a relative newcomer, the answer lies in normal-looking clothes and fabrics, like a periwinkle oxford-cloth stripe, done extremely well. She isn't so much interested in making a statement with her outfits, which included a snug Perfecto vest worn with a flaring dress in the periwinkle stripe and crisp trench coats, as she is in imparting a contemporary sense of confidence.