What is the future of couture? It's a question often asked of this exclusive and rarefied world, with the implication from some quarters that there isn’t one. But Raf Simons’s autumn 2013 collection for Dior will silence those wondering how much life there is in the discipline yet.

Its future, according to the vision he laid out today, is everything and everywhere. All at once.

The show was an assault on the senses, with models walking the perimeter of a giant white cube, the walls of which bore projections of images and gifs taken behind the scenes in real time by Terry Richardson, Willy Vanderperre, Paolo Roversi and Patrick Demarchelier.

‘My main aim has been to bring a sense of reality back to haute couture,’ the designer explained. ‘The collection evolved to be about Dior not just being about Paris and France, but about the rest of the world, and how many fashion cultures impact on the house.’

Inspired by flags and nationality as personal identity, the collection was divided into Europe, the Americas, Asia and Africa, each evoked in colours and technique, but rendered through a Parisian filter. There were skirt suits, cowl dresses and cashmere coats among the energetic ensembles, if you looked hard enough – and paused from Tweeting.

It is testament perhaps to how lightly Raf Simons wears his talent, not to mention the great burden of heritage that comes with his current job, that the clothes, infinitesimally complex in construction and deluxe in their details, were not the sole focal point.

Indeed, as floral backdrops and tableaux scrolled across the walls, as well up and down, it was hard not to feel discombobulated, a little green around the gills even. And that was precisely the point.

Simons took the hallmarks of couture and gave them an updated and international spin: houndstooth was redone as kanga print in vibrant and primary shades, while Prince of Wales check was realised in 3D ‘shibori’, the stippled silk texturing that Issey Miyake used so famously, although the impression here was less architecturally severe than achingly modern and romantic.

While full-length gowns retained those fit-and-flare, dropped waist, mermaid–ish proportions (Jennifer Lawrence was sitting front row), they also spoke of industrious research and vision far beyond the usual red carpet offerings: patterns, wrap stylings and earthy blues and browns were borrowed from the Masai; there were Japanese kimono and obi techniques; and utilitarian sportswear showed through in belts and hard graphics.

There were glimpses too of those shapes and styles that Simons used to so great an effect during his final seasons at Jil Sander, in floor-skimming vest dresses, Dennis the Menace stripes in disco brights, and Golden Era-style gazar and wool cocoon coats. Electric blue and rust red striped a coat that was, on its exterior, mink and, inside, the softest silk, while tulle dresses were sumptuous adorned with applique, flowers in some instances, and global motif badges in another.

Simons is a moderniser but not one who likes to shout about progress, finding instead prescience in nostalgia. Which is why, despite all the technological bells and whistles, the garments were certainly no afterthought - nor did they abandon the Dior tradition.