PARIS FASHION WEEK SPRING/SUMMER 2026: DAY 5
editors ELIANA CASA, MAREK BARTEK, MARIA MOTA and MARIE-PAULINE CESARI
LOEWE
review by FIONA FROMMELT
all images LOEWE via vogue.com
The duo of Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez stepped into Jonathan Anderson’s legacy in April 2025. Anderson, who led the house for more than a decade, left big shoes to fill, and anticipation was high to see how the legacy of the Spanish house would continue. Now it’s clear: they have big plans for Loewe, and this show is only the beginning. Their debut was a fantastical statement that both honored what they inherited and ventured boldly into new territory. Their vision for Loewe’s future feels bright, brimming with colours, textures, and shapes that nod to Anderson’s and Loewe's codes while pushing them even further.
The designers centred the collection on a single work of art: Yellow Panel with Red Curve (1989) by American painter and sculptor Ellsworth Kelly, displayed at the entrance of the runway space. Kelly’s painting, and, more importantly, his colour palettes, served as a starting point. The result was a bright, joyous celebration that evoked the feeling of a perfect summer by the sea. Sunny yellows, mango oranges, deep-sea blues, grassy greens, and sunset reds came together in a feast of colour theory.
In true Loewe fashion, everyday objects were transformed into the most coveted clothes and accessories. Towels became dresses, pears turned into bags, stripes reappeared in head-to-toe looks, and the runway pulsed with textured coats and fringed trousers. Leather jackets were sculpted with near-doll-like precision, hugging the models’ bodies. Trompe-l’œil effects, floral patterns, extravagantly shaped shirts and dresses, knitted trousers, and ultra-short bottoms filled the runway with playful irreverence. It was fun, it was hot, it was summer distilled into fashion. One thing was undeniable: the designers had a blast bringing this fantasy to life.
Perhaps this dazzling debut was also one of the most colourful shows of this season's Paris runways. To honor and evolve a house with such a rich history is no easy feat, yet McCollough and Hernandez have done just that. Bravo.
ISSEY MIYAKE
review by VERONICA TLAPANCO SZABÓ
all images ISSEY MIYAKE via vogue.com
A shoulder pad so powerful it seems to be swallowing the model whole? Allow us to dig deeper into Issey Miyake’s collection. Designer Satoshi Kondo’s main idea for this season pivoted around flipping the narrative and giving clothing their own agency for once, making the body the object. The printed shirts in the first few looks supported this thesis by stating “I am autonomous” and “I am animated” while still keeping the garments well behaved, channeling the meagre power of a skinny belt to hold it all together. Progressively, however, the clothes begin to conquer and expand, a striped polo extended into a dress, a sock became the whole shoe (s/o Camper). A light pink jacket’s hood swallowed the model’s face whole, pants pulled themselves open and asymmetrical sleeves allowed for the models arms to peek out as if signaling for help. This game of adding or removing limbs continues, with striking pants possessing armholes emerging at the hips and skirts with half-formed bonus leg holes.
A few instances later, the clothes have committed to building a life of their own, collecting objects and encasing them in their fabric, housing cups, sunglasses, a watering can and a variety of indecipherable colorful plasticy looking objects (It’s giving me running errands without a shopping bag). Now entering a new level of domination by having the models hold out a shoe-box advertising the collaboration between Issey Miyake and Camper in this collection, suggesting that the clothing’s spirit has a knack for marketing. Gaining more and more power, arms remain now stuck inside the dresses covered in a palm tree print, while a huge capped look made from a fine knitted fabric, announces the final form. The one where the human is made so small in proportion to the clothing item that it has no choice but to remain there. All throughout the collection Kondo kept us guessing, grinning, and glued to every look with his clever key that unlocked a collection full of wit and wonder.
GIAMBATTISTA VALLI
review by FIONA FROMMELT
all images GIAMBATTISTA VALLI via vogue.com
It was a serene runway, filled with nude hues, elegant and playful at once, while simultaneously carrying the calmness of a deep breath. Giambattista Valli drew inspiration from Dutch masters and evoked the impression of an Italian summer garden that was breathed in, cherished, and transformed into an extrait of clothing.
Like a garden itself, the palette unfolded gradually: from canvas and creamy nudes, light beiges, and greens, to periwinkle, tulip pink, dahlia red, mint, lemon, and bright tangy pastels. Some dresses carried peonies, apples and other blossoms as motifs, while some garments seemed to become the flowers themselves. Still lives of bowls filled with cherries, peonies, and seashells appeared on canvas-like robes, while floral embellishments bloomed on sheer skirts and dresses. Ruffles were ever-present, shaping sleek silhouettes in tops and skirts. Chiffon dresses with grand puffer accents at the shoulders created ethereal movement on the runway. Shoes adorned with florals enhanced the collection’s romantic tone, while apple- and pear-shaped bags added a playful edge. The finale was a striking saffron dress with bold, wide shoulders.
Giambattista Valli reaffirmed his mastery of romanticism, offering a collection that felt both grounded in tradition and suspended in a dream. The collection conveyed a romantic sense of savoir-vivre and beauty felt as effortless as a summer breeze.
VETEMENTS
review by VERONICA TLAPANCO SZABÓ
all images VETEMENTS via vogue.com
Guram Gvasalia said it all in the first look, a reminder of the Anti-Nazi League and the mass movement it sparked in the late 1970s. Our bodies are vehicles for expression. And yet we’re losing our bodily autonomy! There is a history of using one's bodies to protest, they carry our views into the public sphere. Allowing us to quite literally stand up or sit down against things.
Gvasalia doubles down on this statement in the second look, stocking masks, long tied to criminality, which turns to the question, is it now a crime to stand up for one’s beliefs? More sheer looks follow, creating a bleak palette across multiple looks, as if the transparency of the fabrics mirrors the vulnerability of our own bodies. The collection transforms the runway into a stage for visibility and exposure, with bomber jackets carrying “remove before flight” tags, neck pillows integrated into jackets and military pants, and lifted collars ready for takeoff. Every detail gestures toward movement and escape. One shirt reads, “In my world you don’t exist,” a declaration that leaves no room for hate.
The tone shifts dramatically in the final six looks, with bare-faced and bare backed? Cara Delevingne and Natalia Vodianova strutting down wearing dresses that progressively erode with each look, fading into black. The last look recalls Anok Yai’s runaway bride from last season, except she has now returned in a fully black gown (that’s missing a back), tears streaming down her face. It stands as a powerful image of a mourning widow, leaving a haunting imprint.
NINA RICCI
review by PHOEBE PHOEBE GIBSON-DOUGALL
all images NINA RICCI via vogue.com
Let’s hear it for Harris Reed! Not content with just meeting expectations, the 29-year-old wunderkind has worked tirelessly over the past several years to exceed the fashion world’s assumptions of their tenure at Nina Ricci. This was especially clear in their SS26 collection for the house; a sumptuous offering of seventies-era style made modern. The clothes were a study in decadence–silken suits paired with low cut tops, jacquard flares in mustard hues, and thigh-high python boots. Belted pencil skirts and pussy-bow blouses injected a healthy dose of femininity, but make no mistake, gender needn’t play a major role here. Reed’s looks are sexy and highly wearable, made to be desired by anybody and everybody. In an age where the world feels uncertain, and young people are partying less, Reed’s clothes act as the perfect armour for dialing up the drama and bringing the night back.
YOHJI YAMAMOTO
review by NIA TOPALOVA
all images YOHJI YAMAMOTO via vogue.com
On October 3rd, at the Hôtel de Ville in Paris, Yohji Yamamoto reminded us once again of the value space and stillness holds. In Japanese culture, this space is called “Ma” (間), and it is a concept that has been crucial in helping me understand better Yamamoto’s body of work. His collections call for our presence, delivering movement and clothing meant to be felt with our senses. To be quiet, to be still, to give yourself time and permission to feel the space between the music, the models, the tonality, the space between the body and the garment. To have the sensibility and ability to experience all of that with your four senses rather than try and give it cognitive framing or interpretation. Maybe this is why Yohji Yamamoto’s work resists easy categorization, trying to find the right words for something that is meant to be felt, experienced, rather than dissected or analysed – perhaps poetry would be the way to go instead. (Though, I’ll still give it a try.)
Layers of distinctive black tones overlapped, transforming into drapes and pleats that delicately created a tear-like effect, slowly giving way to red details that created even more dimension. Three white, almost angelic silhouettes appeared in the middle of the show, mentally preparing us for the part that made us all tear up: a breathing tribute to the late Giorgio Armani – a calligraphy of his letter to Yamamoto, personally inviting him to the Spring/Summer show, the one that Armani himself never got to attend. “...I cannot help but feel immense pride in reaching this milestone – and even greater in the thought of sharing it with you. I sincerely hope you’ll be able to attend. I shall be waiting.”
The show concluded with a recreation of Yamamoto’s 1986 red bustle coat: five models dressed in black, white and red stood in formation to create an intentional composition. Each model removed the red outer layer and held it beside them, revealing form and negative space that was unmistakably Yamamoto. And exactly this kind of spatial intuition is where his mastery lies, in shaping how garments inhabit space.
GIVENCHY
review by MARIA MOTA
all images GIVENCHY provided by the brand
Guests took their seats on stacks of pristine white A4 envelopes, each one tagged with their name and pinned like a pattern card from a forgotten atelier. Returning from last season, the gesture nodded to folders from Hubert de Givenchy’s 1952 archives, rediscovered just before Sarah Burton’s debut. According to the show notes, Burton set out to “explore the strengths of women through feminine archetypes,” a theme articulated through a dance between dress and undress, structure and fluidity, power and sensuality.
Tailoring, Burton’s calling card, was pushed to thrilling new extremes. Her cuts staged a quiet tension between exposure and restraint. The blazer, that old symbol of power, was dissected. Hems appeared ripped open almost as if in a gesture of liberation; shoulders dropped, backs sliced, as if the classic, close-to-the-neck silhouette had finally decided to break free. A sense of rebellious elegance ran through these altered classics. Mini dresses sat high on the waist, stretching the body’s proportions. Tuxedo dresses opened dramatically at the chest, framing bra straps and bold jewellery. Power dressing arrived with a pulse, not a pose.
There was softness too: explosions of tulle, ballerina volumes, duchesse satin twisted like bed sheets, half clinging, half slipping away. Skirts and dresses drew attention to the waist, cleverly tucked and cinched to sculpt a sharp, feminine line. Playful shoes adorned with bows and flowers, along with chunky geometric jewellery dripping down the body, added a hit of maximalism that was executed, as always with Burton, in the most elegant way. The finale saw Kaia Gerber glide down the runway in calico duchesse satin embroidered with delicate pink iris silk satin stitch. The look felt quiet, almost intimate.
This season, Burton continued to define what Givenchy means under her hand: a house where the female form is both celebrated and empowered, and where sharp tailoring becomes a language of liberation. She approaches the archives not with nostalgia, but with precision, reworking the codes to make them feel alive. Sarah Burton’s instinctive understanding of how women want to dress (and undress) today was clear in every line, cut, and fold.
VICTORIA BECKHAM
review by MAREK BARTEK
all images VICTORIA BECKHAM via vogue.com
Victoria Beckham’s Spring/Summer 2026 show was a reflection on beginnings and on becoming. “Going into this documentary process really gave me an opportunity to look at my past,” she said backstage, referencing her upcoming Netflix series. Her self-reflection shaped a collection into what felt both nostalgic and assured, echoing the teenage play filtered through grown-up eyes.
Beckham reworked memories of cutting up T-shirts and borrowing her dad’s jackets into fluid tailoring and deconstructed slips. Crisp trousers came softened at the seams, asymmetric dresses twisted and draped as if still in motion. Hints of lingerie peeked through — camisoles in peach satin, sheer overlays that caught the light like memory itself.
Seven seasons into showing in Paris, Beckham’s confidence is evident. The sentiment may be soft, but the construction is sharp. She’s evolved into a designer who’s at ease with her past, tailoring nostalgia into something powerful.