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The news
Last Tuesday night Saint Laurent showed its spring 2027 collection in Paris, on a black lacquered runway under three gold chandeliers, with the Eiffel Tower behind. Anthony Vaccarello dressed the house's staples in gold: a lamé safari bomber with a slit pencil skirt, trenches, wrap dresses with wide shoulders and slip dresses, in lamé, brocade, guipure lace and latex covered in gold leaf. The gold darkened look by look and the finale was black, velvet included, reversing the house's autumn 1991 Rive Gauche collection. W Magazine notes weeks of rumours that this was a last show after ten years at the house. Nothing has been confirmed.
via W Magazine, 30 September 2026
Dahlia's take
The part I believe is the wardrobe. The gold didn't go on ballgowns to be called a night; it went on a bomber, a trench, a pencil skirt. Things with pockets. Metal on a real garment looks like a decision. Metal on a ballgown looks like a trophy.
What I don't buy is the dose. Head-to-toe gold lamé works under three chandeliers with a tower sparkling behind you. At a table for two, you are the lighting. And latex in gold leaf is a sculpture, not a Thursday.
My rule is one metal per outfit, and black holds the reins. The bronze wide-leg trousers I wore under a black leather blazer on the street: the metal starts at the waist and the jacket keeps it honest. The black blazer dress in the hotel, with knee boots and a gold belt about as wide as a pencil: that is my full annual allowance of gold, and it was enough.
Then the show ended in black, a subject on which I am already for the record. The black strapless satin gown with the organza overskirt I took to the desert needs no chandelier. If this was a goodbye, it's the right way to leave: lights all the way up, then out the door in black.
