Everything we loved at Paris Fashion Week SS26 (until now)

Fashion month has already given us plenty to talk about—from the buzzy runways of New York to the bold statements in London and the sleek sophistication of Milan. But Paris, as always, saves the best for last. With 74 shows and 37 presentations lined up, the city’s glittering nine-day finale promises nothing short of a blockbuster season. And this year, anticipation is running higher than ever, thanks to a string of landmark debuts: Jonathan Anderson at Dior, Miguel Castro Freitas at Mugler, Mark Thomas at Carven, Jack & Lazaro at Loewe, Glenn Martens at Maison Margiela, Pierpaolo Piccioli at Balenciaga, Duran Lantink at Jean Paul Gaultier, and Matthieu Blazy at Chanel. It’s a schedule packed to the brim, but then again—when it comes to fashion, we’ll always have Paris.

Here are some of the hottest moments from Paris Fashion Week S/S26.

Day 1

Saint Laurent
 

Saint Laurent kicked off PFW with a dreamy night under the stars, and the Eiffel Tower, of course. Anthony Vaccarello leaned into his signatures this season, delivering razor-sharp tailoring, fluid draping, and a brand of sensual minimalism that makes an impact without raising its voice. The collection played with opposites—strong-shouldered jackets set against slinky, asymmetrical dresses, oversized leather bombers balanced by sheer, weightless fabrics. Each look carried a quiet confidence, showing that power and seduction aren’t opposing forces, but two sides of the same coin.

 

It was a supermodel summit—Linda Evangelista, Kate Moss, and Carla Bruni on the runway. Bella Hadid walked in a translucent black trenchcoat, accessorised with oversized sunglasses and statement earrings. This collection wasn’t just about elegance; it was about intent. Models walked through a garden of white hydrangeas, hedges forming the YSL logo from above, with the Eiffel Tower glowing behind them, which is perhaps exactly how fashion heaven looks. Vaccarello’s vision reminded us that Saint Laurent is not only timeless, but also deeply attuned to the way women want to dress right now: unapologetically, with purpose, and always with an edge.

 

Day 2

Louis Vuitton
 

 

Nicolas Ghesquiere flipped the script at Louis Vuitton this season, trading his trademark futurism for something softer: the comfort of home. Shown in the newly restored summer apartments of Anne of Austria at the Louvre, the collection was a study in intimacy and ease, but elevated to a Vuitton scale. “It’s fun to dress up at home too,” Ghesquiere said backstage, and that sentiment unfolded in coats with teddy-bear textures, bathrobe-inspired outerwear, fuzzy knits, and toga-like dresses that felt both playful and serene.

 

Experimentation was not far away—he reimagined a camel coat as a romper, showered brushed silk robes with scattered jewels, and closed with gowns strung in degrade beading that resembled blurred garden vistas. Even the simplest looks—cotton tops, wide-legged silk trousers, socks and sandals (in glossy brocade, no less) carried a luxe ease that made “domestic dressing” suddenly aspirational. The setting only reinforced the theme: guests wandered through a closed Louvre, past Winged Victory and gilded ceilings, into rooms staged with antiques, Art Deco seating, and ceramics curated by Marie-Anne Derville. Cate Blanchett’s voice floated over the show, reading Talking Heads’ This Must Be the Place. Home, in Vuitton’s world, is where comfort and couture meet.

 

Courreges
 

At Courreges, Nicolas Di Felice staged a show that felt like watching the sun rise and burn across the sky. The quintessential square runway was replaced with a circle to set the stage for a cyclical narrative of heat and light. Guests were primed for the theme even before they arrived—the invite was a pair of Courreges sunglasses, which everyone wore as the show began (so Anna Wintour wasn’t the only one sporting a pair). Beneath the seats, the sound system thumped, vibrating as the first models emerged in accessories that seemed to be “melting” away. The collection climbed in degrees, from icy 22 to blazing 30.

 

At the start, cool teal and navy washed over sheer tops, skirts, and veiled caps. Midway, swimsuits fused with checkered bottoms and leather outerwear, before the heat flared at 26 with cutout bombers, sleek co-ords, and fluid eveningwear. By 30 degrees, metallic accessories, slashed vinyl, and bleached dresses closed the show with both urgency and radiance. It was futuristic, sensual, and charged with Di Felice’s signature build of intensity—a meditation on climate, extremes, and the allure of Courreges' heat.

 

Dries Van Noten
 

At Dries Van Noten, spring was all about catching a wave, literally! Inspired by surfers and the rhythm of the sea, creative director Julian Klausner translated the simple yet majestic act of surfing into a collection brimming with optimism and colour. Models emerged like radiant sea creatures, awash in shades of lemon, lime, tangerine, and bright green. Sheer kaftans shimmered with sequins that mimicked sunlight on water, while rhinestone-trimmed shifts rippled with movement. Klausner’s trademark contrasts were everywhere: sculptural wool tops recalling wetsuits paired with diaphanous skirts, boyish olive shorts transformed with ornate embroidery, and Seargant Pepper-style military coats rendered in unexpected hues like canary yellow and midnight velvet.

 

Even wardrobe staples—fluid jersey tops with exaggerated ruffles, tailored jackets in two-tone combinations—were given a shot of drama and wit. Accessories kept the energy alive, with slim sneakers in a rainbow of colours grounding the collection in Klausner’s vision of “accessible, beautiful” clothes that radiate joy. The overall effect was couture-meets-coastline: part surfer’s wetsuit, part grand couture fantasy, entirely Dries. This season, Van Noten proved once again that fashion doesn’t have to choose between strength and softness, utility and fantasy. Sometimes, like riding a wave, it’s about finding the perfect balance.

 

Stella McCartney

 

 

Leave it to Stella McCartney to turn Paris Fashion Week into both a runway and a rallying cry. The Spring/Summer 2026 show at the Centre Pompidou opened with none other than Helen Mirren reciting the Beatles’ Come Together, and from that moment, the message was clear: this wasn’t just fashion, it was protest, poetry, and power. On the runway, Stella served up sharp boxy suits, marshmallowy dresses, pom-poms, and feather-free feathery cocktail looks. Alex Consani glided out in lilac ruffles that looked light as air but carried the weight of McCartney’s eco-driven vision. The palette balanced dreamy pastels with jolts of turquoise and pink, proving that softness and strength can walk hand-in-hand. And then came the finale– three jaw-dropping gowns adorned with feathers that weren’t feathers at all, but Fevvers, the world’s first plant-based alternative. Glamour without cruelty, decadence without compromise. “Brands who continue to use feathers are choosing cruelty over creativity,” McCartney declared, and the audience knew they’d just witnessed a turning point. This was Stella at her best: playful, powerful, and planet-conscious. In a week full of archival revivals, she reminded us that the future (bold, bright, and feather-free) can still strut with serious style.

 

Day 3

Dior

 

 

Jonathan Anderson didn’t just step into the House of Dior; he struck a match, projected “Do you dare enter…the House of Dior?” on a giant screen, and made a stellar debut at Paris Fashion Week. Cue Adam Curtis’ mash-up of Dior archives, Hitchcock cuts, and ‘60s B-movies projected onto an inverted pyramid, setting the stage for a Gothic resurrection. It was replete with obvious Dior references, all reimagined through Anderson’s lens. On the runway, he pulled Dior’s codes apart, piece by piece.

 

The opening: a ghostly white plissé lampshade dress floating on invisible hoops. The sacred Bar jacket? Now miniaturised to doll-like proportions. Bubble dresses and puffball skirts came in gauzy lace and fuzzy knits, while jersey was twisted into unsettling lumps-and-bumps—half stylish, half body distortion. Sheer cage negligees clashed with stiff lace collars, and sculptural men’s cargo shorts were reincarnated as sharp miniskirts. Accessories were equally irreverent: Cigale bags already destined for waitlists, rosette-adorned mules, cool loafers, and boxy weekender totes. Micro embroidery and hundreds of scalloped mini-Junons proved Anderson wasn’t ditching craft, just warping it into fantasy. The front row—filled with the likes of Anya Taylor-Joy, Jisoo, Charlize Theron, Jenna Ortega, Rosalía watched as Dior burned itself down, only to be reborn in smoke, satin, and shadows. A rare standing ovation manifested to commend a rare talent like Anderson.

 

Acne Studios

 

 

Paris thrives on dualities, and Acne Studios leaned into them with a show staged in the vaulted surrounds of the College des Bernardins, transformed for the night into a smoky, cigar-lit salon. Jonny Johansson didn’t have a glossy debut to make, but he had a strong vision. He used the setting to frame a collection that blurred archetypes—masculine and feminine, extreme and everyday—to create a new kind of female protagonist, one that resists easy categorisation. “I’ve always felt that creativity is about seeing the world in a way you didn’t realise before,” Johansson said. That sentiment translated into suit jackets spliced and recut across the body, uniform shirts layered with couture lace, and sculptural second-skin silhouettes that referenced both atelier craft and street grit. Transparency became a recurring motif—sheer slips and distressed denim revealing what lies beneath—while leather and lace were placed side by side in tactile contrast. Accessories spoke volumes: cowboy boots, oversized earrings, aviator frames, the reworked Camero bag and a sharp new Hotel weekender. Surrounding imagery by artist Pacifico Silano threaded in homoerotic undertones, while a soundtrack from Robyn and Yung Lean electrified the space. As Acne Studios approaches its 30th anniversary, this collection felt less like nostalgia and more like a reset—an embrace of flux over fix. 

 

Tom Ford

 

 

 

Haider Ackermann seduced us with his sophomore outing at Tom Ford. Light and dark. Strong and fragile. It was a study in contrasts—and the crowd was rapt. Celebrities like Pamela Anderson, Janet Jackson, Kate Moss, and Rita Ora leapt to their feet the second the show ended in a literal puff of smoke. Minutes later, a visibly moved Ackermann was mobbed on the smoky runway. “Haider is a genius,” declared Jackson. The show opened with a classic Tom Ford flourish: a single spotlight cutting through the dark, illuminating models in skinny patent mesh coat dresses in black, burgundy, and apple green. From there, Ackermann wove his signature fluidity into Ford’s razor-sharp codes. Neat suede trenches, gelato-toned suits in mint and blush, and cashmere sweaters tossed nonchalantly over the shoulders nodded to Italian elegance. For the evening, the designer turned up the drama: sculptural gowns with cutout bodices, slinky lace-edged slips, and a breathtaking mint-and-black draped number stole the show. A few bondage-tinged looks pushed the envelope, but this is Tom Ford—a little shock value is part of the DNA. Under Bowie’s slow, pensive “Heroes,” Ackermann proved he’s not just inheriting a legacy—he’s reshaping it.

 

Day 4

Mugler

 

 

For his first outing at Mugler, Miguel Castro Freitas delivered a cerebral, razor-edged debut titled “Stardust Aphrodite.” Staged in an underground parking garage in Paris, the show drew a starry front row—including Elizabeth Berkley and Pamela Anderson—and set the tone for a new era at the house. Rather than mining the archives for spectacle alone, Freitas grounded his vision in Mugler’s legendary tailoring. Sculpted hourglass jackets in camel and beige nodded to the “Insects” era, while vinyl skirts and low, padded waistbands brought in a slinky modernity. Sheer bodystockings underpinned sharp silhouettes, while feathered flourishes a la Linda Evangelista’s “Too Funky” moment injected flashes of camp into the precision. Hollywood nostalgia collided with kink in the details: fringe tops framed bare chests, and a bias-cut gown dangled provocatively from nipple rings. It was a good attempt, to say the least—Mugler is too camp to meet the commercial standards of ready-to-wear, so it wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t Cadwallader’s kinetic hedonism or Thierry’s theatrical femininity, but something moodier—a controlled burn that hinted at where Freitas might take the house next. And we can’t wait to see.

 

Rick Owens

 

 

 

Rick Owens decided to go soft-well, Owens-soft. “I don’t really do delicate that much, and I thought, ‘I’m gonna try that,’” he said backstage, seconds before sending his army into the Palais de Tokyo’s reflecting pool. Platform boots splashed through ankle-deep water, chiffon capes dragged like ghostly trails, and fog rolled in thick, as if Paris itself was holding its breath. His version of lingerie dressing came filtered through the Owens lens: chiffon capes suspended from anvil-shaped metal shoulders, stocking-top dresses with architectural seams, nylon ribbons, and a haze of translucent layers “piled up” to keep nudity coy but charged. Delicacy, but with a spiked collar. The clothes moved between strength and fragility—low-slung tank gowns, gauzy bomber jackets, micro trench coats with tailcoat trains, spiky evening dresses in industrial nylon that looked “haphazardly whipped up,” according to the notes. It was lingerie as armour, Hollywood glamour as seen through a dystopian filter.

 

Despite the bone-rattling soundtrack, the fog machines, and the industrial staircase ferrying models into the pool, this was one of Owens’ prettiest shows in years—a kind of romantic exhale. This collection felt exactly like a tenderness forged in steel.

 

Schiaparelli

 

 

Daniel Roseberry turned up the heat for Spring/Summer 2026 with “Dancer in the Dark,” his raciest and most after-hours collection yet. Across Europe this season, there’s a quiet but insistent return to refined sensuality, and Roseberry’s vision landed squarely in that moment. Tailoring came first: strict, commanding silhouettes in snug mess jackets and pencil skirts that flashed the midriff—a power move for a new kind of femme fatale. Leather cocktail dresses clung to the body like a second skin, embossed at the bust or punctured to reveal flashes of flesh. Quoting Yves Saint Laurent, who once called Schiaparelli “a comet illuminating the Paris skyline, determined to dominate,” Roseberry made it clear that he wants his women to do exactly that. Staged on the top floor of the Pompidou Center, currently under restoration, the black carpet twisted under theatrical floor lighting, giving the night a faintly diabolical charge. Kendall Jenner stalked the runway in a sheer polka-dot chiffon jumpsuit, pure midnight seduction. It was very different from usual, yes. A few crushed satin detours fell flat, but the finale of transparent white jersey pieces—airy, sensual, and sharply cut—felt like a love letter to Elsa herself.

 

Isabel Marant

 

 

For her sophomore outing at Isabel Marant, Kim Bekker packed light and hit the hippie trail, channeling her own adventures into a collection that felt effortlessly free-spirited yet distinctly cool. “I was thinking about my personal journey, traveling on my own and enjoying open spaces with a backpack and a quilt to sleep on,” she explained. Those memories materialised as cross-body slings designed to hold rolled-up blankets, setting the tone for a nomadic wardrobe built for both ease and allure.

 

The runway, dusted in red earth, became a dusty road trip runway. Bekker sent out patched army jackets, short suede vests, and slim, low-slung cargo pants rolled at the ankle, all paired with moccasin boots, gladiator sandals, or espadrille-soled flat boots printed with wildflowers. Dresses carried the same breezy spirit: short, silky T-shirt styles in sunbaked tones, sheer off-the-shoulder numbers with ruffle cuffs, and romantic broderie anglaise pieces that looked thrifted from a small-town vintage shop. Nightfall brought a shimmer of glamour: sequin tops with patchwork trousers, army jackets thrown over copper slips edged in fringe and oversized paillettes (the kind of looks made for sipping cocktails under the stars). Bekker’s Isabel Marant girl is firmly back on the road, and she’s doing it in flats.

 

Day 5

Loewe

 

 

Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez made their much-anticipated Loewe debut with a collection that swapped cerebral conceptualism for pure, sun-soaked joy. The show opened with a burst of colour (literally!) A yellow-and-red Ellsworth Kelly painting greeted guests at the entrance, setting the tone for a fiery, hyper-energetic collection that marked a new chapter for the house. “Energy” was the duo’s mantra, and it showed. They dove straight into Loewe’s Spanish roots and leather legacy, layering their signature New York cool over the house’s impeccable craft.

 

The result? Scuba-slick moulded leather jackets that looked like they’d been peeled open, towel-textured minidresses, and double-visor caps that hinted at sporty hedonism. Sculpted tank dresses and feather-like skived leather jeans hit the sweet spot between beach and atelier, while bubble anoraks and patterned shirts were worn in layered multiples– a new code in the making. Spanish sensuality pulsed through the collection. “It’s about heat, skin, the body,” Hernandez said. Preppy knits were twisted into bra tops, brushed denims softened the edges, and accessories got a youthful jolt: saggy Amazona bags, glossy tassel loafers in primary shades, and translucent kitten heels with pop-colour sockettes. The invitation was a bottle opener. The vibe? Total summer euphoria. With McCollough and Hernandez at the helm, Loewe feels looser, flirtier, and full of warmth. All in all, it was a debut that doesn’t make you overthink; it just hits that playful mark Loewe is meant to. 
 

Giambatista Valli

 

 

 

In a season where spectacle reigned supreme, Giambattista Valli pressed pause. Drawing inspiration from the serene domestic scenes of the Dutch Masters, he offered a collection that felt like slipping quietly into a Vermeer painting—delicate, precise, and breathtakingly romantic. Inside his Paris headquarters, mirrored plinths held baskets of fruit and flowers, setting the stage for a story of quiet beauty. The opening looks were painterly in their restraint: crisp linen and thick canvas dresses printed with still lifes, or embroidered with wheat sheaf motifs in broken mirrors. Voluminous culottes mimicked pannier skirts, while sheer organza in “Vermeer blue” and shot taffeta with clover motifs floated down the runway like brushstrokes. Princess Eugenia of Hanover made her runway debut in Dutch lace, adding a touch of aristocratic whimsy to the tableau. Nature unfurled in every seam—hand-painted blossoms exploded on pinafore dresses, and pink buds crept over column gowns in trellis macrame. Accessories winked back: glossy apple and pear bags that looked plucked straight from a still life. “It’s not about an aesthetic, it’s about a moment of peace– a dream,” Valli said backstage. And that’s exactly what this was: a soft, romantic escape from the noise. If crawling into a painting isn’t an option, these clothes let you play artist for a day.

 

Givenchy

 

 

Sarah Burton’s sophomore outing at Givenchy posed a sharp question: what does powerful femininity look like when you strip away the shoulder pads and boardroom clichés? Her answer unfolded in a collection where sensuality and precision walked hand in hand. Think fabric grazing skin, necklines peeling away like petals, skirts slashed just enough to make you look twice. The energy was quiet but charged. Mariacarla Boscono turned a simple suiting midi into a masterclass in allure. Naomi Campbell strode out in a black pantsuit, blazer open, abs stealing the spotlight. Burton’s tailoring softened this season, jackets slipping off shoulders with studied ease. Leather was cut like boudoir bed jackets, hugging frothy lace babydoll dresses beneath. Mesh fishtail gowns from the fall season re-emerged as narrow columns wrapped in oversized Paris net ruffs, framing the bust like couture armour. Slipdresses came heavy and satin-slick, some trailing Watteau backs, others whispering of late nights behind closed doors. And then there was Kaia Gerber’s finale: a floral-embroidered bra and a narrow, blushing pink skirt, delicate yet commanding– the perfect closing note. We need more women designers. Sarah Burton gets it. She makes clothes women actually want to wear. And those shoes? Sublime.

 

Day 6

Alaia 

 

 

Pieter Mulier continues to carve one of the most distinct design languages in Paris, where organic shapes meet futuristic precision, and every gesture is as intentional as a Fontana slash. His latest outing unfolded at the old Fondation Cartier building, where a mirrored ceiling and LED-lit floor turned a rainy Paris morning into a cinematic runway. Close-up shots of models’ faces played overhead, putting “the girls and the beauty at the center,” as Mulier explained backstage.

 

“I didn’t want something dramatic,” he said. “But I did want it to be a mirror of what I feel today.” The result was a collection that balanced romance with experimentation: long fringe suspended from stay-up hose swished beneath austere cotton tunics, waterfall jersey bibs cascaded over leather coats, scarf-point skirts wrapped and unfolded in asymmetric gestures. His experimental streak stayed sharp. Last season’s face-framing tubes evolved into cocoon-like jumpsuits and stocking dresses tugged over shoulders and hips, capes tethered to pinkies, stirrups hooked under heels. “Everything is pulled and released,” Mulier noted. “I wanted it to be romantic, because there needs to be hope.” The construction was masterful in its simplicity. From coats shaped like ovals, tops and skirts as triangles, to tunics as rectangles with just four materials (cotton, python, leather, silk) and embellishment limited to texture: fringe, tassels, pleats. Sex simmered beneath the enveloping silhouettes: bare thighs between tunics and hose, backs revealed through portholes, legs flashing through open coats and airy ball gowns. Those closing gowns were crafted from original Azzedine Alaia balloon-cut patterns, grand but never theatrical, always allowing the woman to shine through. Even the swaddling cocoons, reminiscent of weighted blankets, felt fashion-forward rather than fussy. 

 

Hermes

 

 

 

Nadege Vanhee loosened the reins this season. Long synonymous with a kind of buttoned-up, bourgeois equestrianism, Hermes took a detour to the Camargue—a rugged stretch of southwestern France where marshes meet sandbanks and horses herd bulls. “It’s a land of bohemians, gypsies, and freedom,” Vanhee said backstage. “I wanted to bring this zest of freedom to equestrian style, which is often associated with the strict and the rational. I wanted to let go.” And let go she did. The runway, blanketed with sand and scattered seashells, set the stage for a polished yet unexpectedly sultry collection. Think sporty, curve-skimming silhouettes, short shorts, and harness and corset details that gave classic saddle leather a va-va-voom edge. Caramel leather coats and minidresses laced up the back, teeny apron-front shorts, halter tops and harnesses turned the Hermes woman into something far more mischievous. A red leather strappy top paired with matching trousers was pure heat, while a quilted silk dress over bike shorts and a white cotton trench left provocatively open, layered halters and harnesses underneath. Vanhee’s leatherwork was immaculate: cognac coats and jackets hand-polished with saddle wax gleamed under the lights, while a patchwork cotton coat with a nipped waist opened the show with a quiet kind of drama. She offset all that structure with a breezy lineup of printed dresses and billowing silk scarves—twisted into bustiers, layered under sandy cotton suits, or whipped into pagoda-sleeved blouses. The effect was light, easy, almost windblown—no small feat for a leather house. This was Hermes at its most liberated: equestrian codes unravelled and re-stitched with sensuality, sportiness, and just the right amount of swagger.

 

Balenciaga

 

 

Pierpaolo Piccioli’s debut at Balenciaga marked a poetic shift—reverent yet forward-looking. Days after landing in Paris, he dove deep into the house archives, studying Cristobal’s work up close: austere lines rendered weightless, volumes built around the body, a quiet kind of disruption. “I want to make the ordinary very extraordinary,” he said ahead of the show, staged at Balenciaga’s Rue de Sevres headquarters in a salon-like setting. Piccioli’s vision draws from the founder’s “culture of couture” while rooting itself in reality. He reimagined Cristobal’s silk gazar into cotton and wool versions, retaining structure and airiness but designed for modern life. His approach was both instinctive and rational—architectural yet deeply human. Rather than rejecting Demna’s streetwear legacy or Ghesquiere’s futurism, he sought continuity. A simple T-shirt, for instance, was treated with a couture precision rather than irony. Teaser imagery (which included archival wedding gowns, Lucio Fontana about to slice a canvas) hinted at the dualities he’s exploring: minimalism and maximalism, restraint and release. By choosing to show at the house headquarters, Piccioli signalled intimacy and intention. This wasn’t about shock value, but about grounding Balenciaga’s legendary disruptiveness in something quietly radical: humanity. 

 

Day 7
Celine 

 

 

Michael Rider traded Celine’s Paris headquarters for the leafy Parc de Saint-Cloud, staging an open-air runway that felt relaxed and refreshingly unpretentious—even if getting there required a bit of a trek. “I thought it would be nice if we got out of the city and to a park,” he said post-show, setting the tone for a collection that continued his mission to loosen up the codes of Parisian dressing. Rider smartly built on the foundation he established in his debut, blending Hedi Slimane’s sharp tailoring with nods to Phoebe Philo’s ease and his own American polish honed at Polo Ralph Lauren. The lineup doubled down on mannish jackets with cinched waists, skinny jeans, tuxedo riffs, and preppy staples like polos and rugby shirts reimagined in fluid silks. Playful touches came through in baby-doll dresses splashed with florals or boucle textures, and in logo bicycle helmets inspired by Paris’s stylish cyclists. Scarflike collars, bohemian jewelry, sensible shoes, and offhand styling gave the looks a lived-in charm. While the show didn’t match the buzz of his debut, it signaled that Rider’s breeze of effortless chic continues to waft through Celine.

 

Valentino

 

 

This season, Alessandro Michele traded in his trademark maximalist spell for something quieter but no less poetic. Valentino’s Spring/Summer 2026 show arrived with a packet of glow sticks in the invitation, a hint of what was to come: light piercing through the gloom. Inspired by a wartime letter from Pier Paolo Pasolini about the joy of seeing fireflies, Michele set out to recapture the magic that first made him fall in love with fashion. The runway was stripped bare—a black box lit by swirling beams, models with undone hair and minimal makeup gliding through like nocturnal creatures. But without the spectacle, the clothes shone brighter. Michele revisited founder Valentino Garavani’s Rome in the early ’80s: puff-sleeved blouses, pencil skirts, jackets tied with bows, and sharp suits with ironed-in creases. Elevated basics, like a zebra windbreaker, mingled with sequined shorts and jewel-toned jackets in powder blue, mustard, and chartreuse. Eveningwear leaned opulent but restrained; aside from a few sheer slips, it was all quiet glamour. Michele described the moment as “sober,” a pause to find beauty again. And in those firefly lights, Valentino glimmered—not through excess, but through elegance rediscovered.

 

Chloe

 

 

Chemena Kamali is rewriting the Chloe girl’s wardrobe, one artfully draped cotton dress at a time. For Spring/Summer 2026, she asked herself: “How would a Chloe girl wear couture today?” Her answer: “in cotton, and without the lining” set the tone for a collection that fused old-world technique with sun-soaked ease. Since taking the helm two years ago, Kamali has leaned into the house’s breezy Karl Lagerfeld-era codes: femininity, youth, and a touch of bohemian romance. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, a boho chic dream. This season, she pushed further into her own strengths as a 3D designer. Dense swags of floral-printed cotton were draped into baby-doll dresses, skirted swimsuit tops, and voluminous daywear, evoking a couture atelier reimagined through a beachy, 1950s Miami lens. Florals for spring. Groundbreaking? No. Stunning? Absolutely! The second half shifted into softer Chloe neutrals—cocoon coats, cropped blouses, fluid skirts—all understated yet sculptural. Using humble fabrics to blunt couture grandeur felt both subversive and deeply Chloe, nodding to founder Gaby Aghion’s pioneering ready-to-wear spirit. Some silhouettes flirted with bulk, but the risk paid off. Kamali stretched the house’s language while staying true to its romantic heart–proof that draping doesn’t have to be precious to feel powerful.

 

Day 8

Miu Miu 

 

 

Miuccia Prada swapped skimpy tops for aprons this season—and somehow made workwear feel like the hottest ticket in Paris. With Miu Miu still reigning supreme on the Lyst charts and dominating runways globally, Prada hit refresh by spotlighting uniforms rather than partywear. The show opened with actress Sandra Huller, hands tucked into her pockets, like she’d just stepped off the assembly line. The cafeteria-like set: Formica tables, PVC strip curtains, set the tone for a collection that recognised women’s labour, both domestic and industrial. Prada mined historical imagery by Dorothea Lange and Helga Paris to inform her silhouettes: sturdy drill jackets, coats, and trousers gave way to housekeeper aprons in retro florals, diner uniforms in double knits, and smocks reimagined as objets d’art. As the show progressed, workwear got the Miu Miu treatment: aprons sprouted metal studs, ruffled edges, and crystal embroideries; leather bibs met lace evening aprons; bikinis layered under smocks offered a cheeky wink. It was a collection that elevated the everyday with wit and subversion—proof that Prada can make even the humble apron a covetable it-piece. Expect copycats.

 

Chanel

 

 

The stars quite literally aligned for Matthieu Blazy’s debut at Chanel. Inside a transformed Grand Palais, giant glowing orbs floated above a marbled black floor, creating a cosmic stage for what was fashion’s equivalent of a moon landing. With Nicole Kidman, Margot Robbie and Pedro Pascal in the front row, Blazy delivered a collection that took the house’s beloved codes and spun them into a layered, intelligent, and surprisingly intimate new orbit. He opened with a chopped-off checked wool pantsuit, nodding to Coco Chanel’s habit of raiding Boy Capel’s wardrobe, and from there the looks danced between androgyny and sensuality. Oversized Charvet tux shirts paired with sweeping skirts, slinky black-and-ivory gowns referencing Art Deco, and straw-textured knits with shredded-paper tops made Chanel feel alive again. Tweed suits came frayed, blanket-soft, sometimes puffed to near-architectural proportions; quilted 2.55 bags were stripped, squished, and reimagined as if passed down through generations, then taken dancing in Pigalle. There were tunics inspired by perfume bottles, wheat-sheaf embroideries for luck, and chocolate-praline flats. It wasn’t about loud logos but subtle disruption, a reduction and recharging of Chanel’s DNA. Model Awar Odhiang closed in an ivory silk T-shirt and a ball skirt bursting with flowers, clapping and dancing as the audience roared. Blazy didn’t just reach for the stars- he set Chanel on a thrilling new orbit.

 

Lead image: Getty Images

Also read: Essential '80s chic wardrobe staples to bookmark

Also read: The revival of romance across runways is a dreamy movement