I say this every season, but Lanvin sure knows how to treat a final-day-of-Fashion-Week audience. It’s a simple yet effective formula that includes refreshments and sweet treats, which today were donuts and giant cookies that the assembled masses picked at daintily on paper plates. The setting was the magnificent Bourse de Commerce, a building matched only in stature and light by the Grand Palais, which is to say enormous, round, frescoed and glass-domed. It makes the perfect site for a powerful show, which is exactly what Lanvin delivered.

The pace was punchy, the music cinematic and rousing. At least six boys took to the circular catwalk at any given moment, offering much to look at, but not much time to take in specific details. There was a wisp of dark leather, apocalyptic layering, combat boots and the kinds of protective leather jerkins that Mad Max might don before a bar fight. Coats featured prominently and seemed heavy for the season (three-quarter-length black vinyl with a hood—in summer?), but shorts were cropped mid-thigh and blousons had the airy lightness of silk.

The best section was a series of six colorful suits, spanning watermelon red to robin’s egg blue, plum to yellow. They started off cut close to the body with exaggerated pagoda shoulders, and ended with a fantastic drop-shoulder one-button jacket with perfectly balanced arms.

It was a tough collection to read. Were they post-nuclear survivors? Quirky businessmen? Thrifty backpackers? All of the above? On the final day of the menswear show season, sometimes you’ve just gotta sit back and take it all in.