Paris was abuzz with energy and excitement this season. There were highly anticipated debuts that didn’t just exceed expectations, but jolted sleepy brands awake with a thrilling spark they’ve not had in years. Sarah Burton turned Hubert de Givenchy’s brand of womanly allure into something fresh and freshly desirable. Over the years, sexiness has become something of a cliche at Tom Ford. In his debut, Haider Ackermann made sexy look mysterious, imperious, a little threatening, and above all, chic—a fashion word that gets thrown around a lot but in this case is the only fitting adjective. 

Related article: The Runway Rundown: A Deep Dive Into Milan Fashion Week Fall/Winter 2025

Jonathan Anderson’s departure from Loewe was only confirmed after fashion week ended, though it was practically an open secret at the time of the shows. There was no show this season, but an immersive presentation held at one of Karl Lagerfeld’s former homes. It was much more pleasurable to be able to feel the clothes and see them alongside the many art and objects with which Anderson has built his hyper-specific world for Loewe—warm and tactile; crafty, but with a light touch; playful and humorous, but not too cutesy or childish. 

Related article: Louis Vuitton Presents A Cast Of Travelling Characters For Fall

Demna’s departure from Balenciaga was much more unexpected. More surprising still was the fact that he’ll be heading to Gucci. His final collection was neither a greatest-hits parade nor a break from what he has done in the past. The focus was still on elevating streetwear—as in what young people are actually wearing on the streets. But there were signs of evolution—his silhouettes were cleaner, leaner and meaner; and those womenswear swimsuit gowns were downright sexy. Demna will need to evolve if he is to make Gucci work.  

Related article: Cohesion And Character At Gucci Even Without A Creative Director

Despite the big dramatic moments, Paris is still a place where younger names and smaller labels can still command significant attention on the strength of ideas and creativity alone. Newcomer Duran Lantink, especially, made waves not just for those viral muscle-bod and boob tops, but for the way his body-modifying garments had something new to say about proportion and beauty ideals. At Courrèges, Nicolas Di Felice has fully hit his stride—this season, inspired by streamers, he set single swathes of fabric looping and trailing around the body via ingenious construction. Minimalism has not looked so sexy in a while. 

Below are some other key collections from this season. 

GIVENCHY

Considering how high the stakes and expectations were for her debut—it has been a long time since the brand was part of the fashion conversation like this—Sarah Burton was remarkably restrained. There were no fussy theatrics or gimmicks—save for one makeup-compact dress—just beautifully thought out clothes, practical and wearable, but also special enough to splurge on. Burton managed to define a clear new silhouette for the House—crisp and commanding, but also shapely and sensual. Of course, there were similarities to her work at McQueen—she worked there for over 25 years, after all—but there were also significant enough differences. Her McQueen was more decadent and shadowy, while the feeling at Givenchy is one of lightness and ease. 

Highlights include a coat-dress and a skirt suit turned front-to-back and looking like the height of elegance; and soft sheets of leather falling gently from high halter necks. The many hourglass silhouettes here never looked stiff or constricting; instead, they felt like soft armour. The tailoring was a perfect mix of structure and slouch. And equally compelling was Burton’s focus on real, wearable clothes rather than showpieces. The trench coat, the leather jacket, the white shirt and black trouser—she turned these staple items into their dream versions. 

DIOR

Whether those Jonathan Anderson rumours prove to be true, there was already a different feeling to Maria Grazia Chiuri’s most recent show. Gone were the installations and artworks created in collaboration with female artists. In their place was an epic set with fog machines, floating boulders and a winged dinosaur soaring overhead. A lone girl in white kicked things off, climbing up onto a giant swing and stared (forlornly? Hopefully? At such a great distance, it was hard to tell) up. Then came the clothes—which were richer, moodier and more decorative than she’s ever done at Dior. Chiuri was inspired by Virginia Woolf’s gender-bending, time-travelling Orlando. The resulting collection was a confident mash-up of eras, masculine and feminine dress, and struck the right balance between pretty and punkish. 

There were Edwardian frock jackets, long riding coats, embroidered capes and velvet cloaks, made entirely modern and cool when worn with shorts and boots, or a frilly white shirt that managed to look both starchy and blousy at the same time. Some of the looks featured corset stomachers as a vest-like extra layer, only instead of lacing, they came with zippers. They worked as base layers too, as when worn like an athletic bra top under an oversized white shirt. Borrowing from the language of sportswear was a good move in making things feel more youthful and wearable, such as when Chiuri turned a regal puffed-sleeved doublet into a bomber jacket. She balanced things out with witchy lace dresses that added a whiff of sexiness, and a revival of John Galliano’s J’Adore Dior t-shirt—now distressed and edged with a lace–for a touch of grunge. 

CHANEL

The year’s most anticipated debut—aka Matthieu Blazy’s for Chanel—is only coming in October. In the interim, the creative studio had the unenviable task of crafting a collection that will please both clients and critics, and cohesive enough not to disrupt the brand story. On those counts, it succeeded. The collection was mostly an exercise in reiterating House codes: the ribbon, the bow, the pearl, the camellia. The team made those signatures fresh again by playing with illusions and proportions. Short tweed suits were layered under long tulle skirts. Jackets sprouted ruff collars while knits sported camellias around the neckline. There were bows galore—trompe l’oeil bows and cut-out bows. Things were often not quite what they seemed—jeans were made of chiffon, and silk made to look like tweed. Even familiar pieces got recontextualised, like the new three-piece suit made up of a boxy vest, a miniskirt, and roomy trousers; or tweed jackets turned into floor-grazing dresses. 

CHLOÉ 

Chemena Kamali’s boho-girl aesthetic for Chloé has been a big hit so far, but for her third runway outing, the designer was ready to tweak that formula a little. Those floaty ruffled dresses were now worn with trailing fake fur stoles with little pelts, giving them a pagan-priestess vibe; or else with vintage-looking military jackets, which toughened things up. What she didn’t change was the sense of ease—Kamali designs with the nonchalance of throwing together thrift-store finds. See the vintage little camisole worn with a shrunken, faded band jacket and a long sheer skirt; or the night slip layered under a lace blouse and a boxy leather jacket with generous fake fur lapels.

Kamali also referenced 80s-era Lagerfeld Chloé with her more pronounced shoulders this season. They looked cool on shearling chubbies worn with flared leather pants, though a bit too business-ladylike as ramrod-shouldered pussybow blouses. It was nice to see Kamali expand her repertoire though—a step in the tougher direction only hinted at here would be welcome. Eveningwear was also more convincingly fleshed out this season. A standout: the effortlessly sexy lace columns with little weightless mini panniers. 

MIU MIU

The best designers can say something resounding using relatively little. That was what happened at Miu Miu this season. The opening proposition was simple: loose coats and skirt suits in rough-looking wool, or slim knits with equally narrow skirts. Handbags were carried in the nook of arms, along with fake fur stoles. So far, so ladylike. Things were not quite as straightforward as they seem though. The lady was wearing pointed bullet bras under those clingy sweaters, or pukey-coloured pistachio socks, or she had forgotten her undergarments are showing. Miuccia Prada was contemplating Femininities—the collection’s title; plural, to represent the many ways of being, performing and subverting femininity. 

A few cases in point: Some of those skirt suits had portrait necklines created by collars wrenched apart; the straps of prim sweetheart dresses and camisoles received the same treatment—as though their wearers suddenly found them cumbersome and started peeling them off. Models in tight muscle tees and slouchy mannish slacks, or in tracksuits and bucket hats, carried those top-handle bags and fake fur stoles in the same ladylike manner. A couple of other models sported sweater-skirt combos that would be downright dowdy if not for their odd, almost off-putting colours.

In fact, the key ingredient here was a John Waters kind of bad taste, and like in those movies, it leaves you equal parts disturbed and delighted. Elsewhere, there were delicate silk dresses that looked crushed and crumpled. Bras and bows, jewels and furs—those trappings of femininity were liberated from the constraints of pretty or chic or sexy, and in turn, freed women from having to “dress like a woman” in any single, reductive way.