‘Dior and I’ Is Full of Pretty Things

and adorable french people.

by Justin Reis

Dior and I is not a fashion film. Categorizing it as such seems almost dismissive. With all but a few brief appearances from the industry's clichés (and, of course, an Anna appearance,) Dior and I pushes past the traps of its predecessors and deals with a strangely elusive subject in the fashion sphere: the human touch.

The 90-minute film from director Frédéric Tcheng follows creative director Raf Simons as he prepares for his first couture show with the house of Dior—which also happens to be his first couture show, like ever. Did I mention he only has eight weeks to pull it all together? While that's compelling enough on its own, the true story unfolds through the house’s two premiéres (chief seamstresses of the atelier)—Monique and Florence. One, the bubbly great aunt we've all dreamed of, the other, a self-admittedly nervous and reserved individual, both undoubtedly talented and both trés French. It's the two of them, along with a lab-coat clad army of seamstresses, who are tasked with transforming the vision and sketches of Simons and his team into runway-ready masterpieces.

At times tense, and others comedic, Dior and I lifts the curtain on the rarified world of haute couture, showing the very real #fashionstruggles of art vs. commerce, past vs. future, and in one particularly enjoyable scene, booze vs. candy. The film, which curiously leaves out any mention of John Galliano, Simon’s scandal-prone predecessor, gives viewers a touchingly accurate portrayal of the artistry and emotion behind Simon’s eight-week journey to solidify his place in fashion history. Oh, and there’s also some killer shots of the one million flowers wall that fashion folks still haven’t gotten over.

Dior and I is not to be missed when it hits theaters across the country beginning April 10.