Fashion Does Not Begin in January

It does not start when the first model steps onto the runway in Milan, London, New York, or even Paris.

Before ready-to-wear sets the pace, before commercial fashion dictates what will fill boutiques, there is another moment—one of stillness, precision, and ritual.

That moment is Haute Couture.

Each house in couture exists in its own universe. There is no singular couture—no one way to define it. It is a language spoken in different dialects, a landscape where each designer builds their own world with its own codes.

It is the purest form of fashion, where time slows down, where garments are sculpted by hand in ateliers by the finest artisans in the world. Here, nothing is made in haste, nothing is done for virality—every stitch is an exercise in mastery.

For those of us inside this world, it is a pilgrimage.

Paris, in the depths of winter. A rhythm we know by heart—appointments, private salon showings, familiar faces reappearing at long dinners, bound not by business but by a shared understanding of what couture means.

A week in Paris during Haute Couture is not just a schedule of shows and fittings—it’s a journey into an intimate world where hierarchy dissolves, where conversations happen in hushed salons rather than grand halls, and where the welcome is personal.

This season, it was about experiencing that world with a close group of women—clients, collectors, and friends who understand that, as closed as couture is, it is in these spaces that we feel we truly belong.

This is the elevation of couture.

Not pomp. Not spectacle. But culture.

The great misconception about couture is that it is a singular idea. In truth, it is a dictionary unto itself, each house defining its own meaning. Aside from the shared pillars of sketch, toile, and atelier, no two houses interpret couture the same way.

But this season felt different.

A mood lingered in the grand salons and gilded showrooms long after the last heel turned a corner.

The air was quieter. The spectacle was subdued. The open glamour was missing in ways that couldn’t be ignored.

Fashion felt as if it was hesitating—caught between the hunger for beauty and the weight of a world that is shifting beneath its feet.

Like nations, each couture house has built its own traditions over time. New names emerge rarely, and when they do, they bring freshness while looking back at their predecessors with reverence. Nothing about couture is contrived—it is a world of legacy, precision, and identity.

And this season, identity was key.

As luxury leans toward a slowdown, couture reminds us that its power lies not in excess, but in its ability to whisper rather than shout. The noise is quieted, the choices are refined—fewer looks, smaller rooms, a welcome that is personal. No need for explanations; your presence alone is what matters.

The Houses That Defined Haute Couture SS25

This season, bows reappeared in every imaginable form—draping onto the ground, finding one last inch to inhabit. A return to innocence, purity, softness. For a spring collection meant to symbolize renewal, the presence of deep black and emerald velvets was unexpected—a weight of the times woven into fabric.

🔹Jordan Fashion Week Shirene Rifai truly stops at nothing,  Single-handedly embedding five Middle Eastern designers into a defilé at the The Paris Shangri-La.  A breath of fresh air with innovation and heart, put together with an elegance that moved the audience from one room to the next.

🔹 Dolce & Gabbana gave us a lean-back into identity, elevated and extraordinary in its styling. Against the shimmering backdrop of the City of Light, models stood before the glistening Eiffel Tower, beacons in the cold Parisian night. The collection whispered power—restrained yet deliberate. Every look was a refined distillation of the house’s DNA, a masterclass in craftsmanship that doesn’t scream but commands attention through precision.

🔹 Yara Shoemaker took her youth and danced us into her designs. She signaled hope and joy in a moment where both were much needed—an unexpected yet welcome emotion in all my years of couture. There was lightness, but also depth—an understanding that couture is not just to be admired but to be lived in.

🔹 Tamara Ralph offered a different kind of quiet. A crisp white space. A grand piano. A single voice singing. The perfect stage for a collection that left nowhere to hide. No theatrics, no distractions—just the clarity of shape, the purity of movement, the essence of what it means to be a couture goddess. She stripped away the excess, revealing the core of elegance. Every guest felt like part of the house—a loyal friend rather than just a spectator.

🔹 Armani Privé spoke of legacy and patience. The collection was not for the fleeting eye. Sheer layers veiled extraordinary workmanship beneath, a reminder that true beauty is often reserved for those with the eye to see it. Giorgio Armani, taking his bow, stood as a testament to decades of trust and loyalty—built not through forced marketing, but through pure talent and exclusivity.

🔹 Giambattista Valli, ever close to his work, blurred the lines between designer, atelier, and client. In a dimly lit room, the house and its guests became one picture—each person an extension of the brand’s ethos.

🔹 Schiaparelli did what we had hoped—Daniel Roseberry expanded the house’s revival, adding new chapters to its story. Trompe l'œil pearls, surrealist tailoring, and earth tones sharpened into lace—a house that never imitates, never conforms, always pushes further.

🔹 Georges Hobeika brought a rainbow of optimism, a reminder that joy persists even after pain.

🔹 Elie Saab pushed his clients beyond the familiar. Unwashed denim couture—unlikely, yet undeniably beautiful—urged us to reconsider craftsmanship over material value. A step towards a more sustainable language of luxury.

🔹 Zuhair Murad delivered a beauty that, as always, glided effortlessly. His work does not sit still—it sings. His followers return season after season, embracing the house’s unmistakable signature.

🔹 Dior—Maria Grazia Chiuri’s final act. A swan song of her tenure, this collection marked the end of an era. The tides of fashion have turned, the ever-revolving door of creative directors continuing its cycle. The echoes of her tenure were undeniable, but so was the reality—fashion today is governed by numbers. The profits had plateaued, and with that, her chapter came to a close.

And then there was Stephan Rolland.

But that—that was something else entirely.

Stephan Rolland: When Couture Becomes Sacred

Some shows are memorable.  Others are transformative.

Stephan Rolland’s SS25 collection was neither. It was sacred.

No cameras. No influencer-front row politics. No whispered negotiations over seating.

Guests took their seats at random. Status, hierarchy, privilege—all irrelevant.

For an hour, the show transported you. No distractions, no filters, no online clips that could ever capture the weight of the moment.

This wasn’t a presentation. It was a reminder of why couture exists—to move us.

By the time the final look walked out, the applause was not for the clothes alone. It was for what had just been felt.

And that is something no other house achieved this season.

Haute Couture vs. RTW: Two Worlds, One Industry in Transition

While couture reflected, ready-to-wear declared.

🔹 Anrealage created garments that changed in real-time—digital screens embedded in fabric, a dress that never looked the same twice.

🔹 Balmain made the runway theatre.

🔹 Dries Van Noten layered storytelling into every detail.

🔹 Chloé returned to its roots with a sharp, self-aware edge.

🔹 Duran Lantink Set in an open plan office, this was where the lines were blurred without shame and statements were made boldly about a world that keeps moving in one direction while everything changes around it.  

🔹 Givenchy under Sarah Burton brought her edge back into the basics of making - a threaded needle, packaged fabric stacks as seats to flank the runway.

RTW was bold, unapologetic, a statement of identity.

Couture was introspective, personal, and deeply considered.

As the season ends, one question lingers:

Is couture fading, or is it simply finding its way forward in a world that no longer knows how to slow down?

If this season proved anything, it is that stillness is the most powerful statement of all.