Lookbook Collection Autumn-Winter 2026
Winter is the season for curling up by the fire and telling carefully embroidered stories.
For you, we have brewed a fabulous tale — a fantasy narrative of wacky beasts and enchanted objects. We have blended childhood memories, daydreams, and nightmares, seasoning them with a pinch of baroque ideas pulled straight from our hats.
To bring this grand patchwork to life, we have included our new embroidered companions and conjured up the great black magic of AI to give the story its final editorial stitches — and to infuse the photographs that illustrate it with a subtle touch of strangeness. Because we believe intelligence is collective, and that AI is a partner capable of pushing imagination even further. As adventurers, it was an experience we wanted to sample.
You, too, can welcome the facetious and endearing characters of this collection — the animal reflection of the human world. With as much delight as we had drawing its cast, build your own small world across the landscape of your clothes. Craft your wacky wardrobe. Create your enchanted world.
Once upon a time, in a miniature world sewn with golden threads and stardust, lived a fox named Mister Sly. He was tiny, perfectly proportioned for his micro‑kingdom — yet he dreamed of greatness. Literally. In his frequent dreams, brought on by chronic narcolepsy, he would run through meadows and grow larger with every step, until he could stride over trees, villages, mountains… Then he would wake up, small again, amid wild grasses, curled between two daisies, swallowing his ambition for breakfast.
One morning, Mister Sly awoke on a heart‑shaped leaf, as delicate as a vow of love and as light as a brilliant idea before the first coffee of the day. Beside him lay a strange mirror, its contours blurred, its surface rippling like a puddle stroked by the wind. He gazed at his fluid, fuzzy reflection when the mirror hurled at him an equally hazy prophecy: “You will become great… if you learn how to lose yourself”.
Mister Sly grabbed his magic wand — just in case; it could always come in handy — and set off in search of the meandering that would finally help him grow… and remain immense even while awake.
His path led him into a maze of red and black ribbons, where the symbols of a deck of cards came alive: sharp spades like biting sarcasm, beating hearts at every step, fluffy clover-shaped clubs beneath his paws, and labyrinthine diamonds into which Mister Sly rushed, certain that getting lost was the only way to grow. But scarcely had he lost himself when a weariness came over him, and he fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, he was floating above the remaining playing cards, lifted from the maze by an ace‑of‑hearts hot‑air balloon. He watched with regret as this landscape drifted away, until a crow landed on the edge of the basket, a piece of cheese clenched in its beak, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Is it you again, you sly chatterbox? Are you after my cheese?”
But Mr. Sly yawned and replied:
“No, dear poet. Cheese melts, and so does flattery. I prefer your secret”.
Flattered, the crow offered him a crumb — of cheese, of course, but also of wisdom. (The second smelled no better than the first.)
When the balloon landed in a swamp of green satin, Mister Fox encountered a bad‑tempered toad and an aggressive rat. The toad grumbled:
“Princesses galore but, never happy toads!”
The rat, twitching its nervous tail, snapped back:
“It's the system's fault!”
Mister Sly greeted them politely and offered them a compromise:
“If you can't be beautiful, be unforgettable”.
The toad copied the sentence into a notebook. The rat wrote it on a banner that he was preparing for his next demonstration.
On a velvet hill, Mister Sly encountered a melancholy unicorn wearing reaction‑heel stilettos.
It dreamed of flying away, yet spun endlessly in circles, propelled by heels that sparked like fireworks.
“I'm searching for a place where dreams don't fall back down,” it sighed.
Mister Sly held out his mirror. “Look at yourself smaller. You'll see, things become lighter. You’ll finally be able to take off”.
The unicorn laughed for the first time in centuries, then spiralled into the sky, leaving behind a silver trail and the sweet scent of self‑mockery.
Descending into the valley, the fox stumbled upon the most unlikely demonstration:
A hen on a float chanted “Make love, not chore!” while disco dancing.
Beside her, a talkative flower preached collective photosynthesis.
A placid bear, placard in paw, growled softly against war.
The amphibian duo proudly led the procession, their banner proclaiming: “Love for all — no royal privileges in matters of the heart!”
Amused, Mister Sly climbed onto a magic mushroom to observe from above. Offended at being mistaken for a simple stool — after all, it had once experienced Lucy’s sky with diamonds — the mushroom sprang into the air, eager to show off its true powers. Thus Mister Sly once again tasted the joys of air travel — and of elegant escape.
His adventure continued aboard a Formula‑1 pumpkin driven by an overexcited rabbit, who introduced him to speed and panic in equal measure. Along the way, they encountered:
A barista lizard serving latte among the clouds (a little lukewarm, but what a view!)
A raccoon passionately devoted to ironing,
A puss-in-boots and a supple cat competing in a flexibility contest.
Further on, a magpie singing the soundtrack of chaos.
At the summit of the journey, a learned owl closed its book, nodded, and flew off into the night — proof that culture sometimes knows when to take flight.
But despite the thrills, Mister Sly’s size did not change by a single stitch.
When everything began to feel like a dream — or a nap, depending on one’s perspective — Mister Sly met a warm‑blooded dragon, a prince‑turned‑frog half-heartedly awaiting a kiss, and a musical raccoon who turned every adventure into a song.
The raccoon murmured, scribbling on a heart-shaped leaf:
“This world is small, but our exploratory fantasies are immense”.
The fox nodded: he knew this law of the mini world well — the one where expansion is so often mistaken for dispersion.
At last, Mr. Sly understood:
Growing was not a matter of size, but of stories.
He tucked away his magic wand, folded his heart‑shaped leaf, and stepped through a magical door opening onto a horizon sewn with promises.
It is said that ever since, whenever a dreamer falls asleep on an embroidered motif, Mister Sly reweaves the thread of his adventure into the fabric of sleep — just before drifting off himself, tiny and content, between two great peals of laughter.
Thank you to our daily companions:
Our teams in Paris and Granville.
To all our external partners: Fabienne, Linda,
our agents in Korea, Japan, China.
To our loyal dealers who have stood by us
for more than 16 years!
to our families and especially our children,
the inspiring young generation and their friends.
To our photographers Lucile Casanova and Clément,
our photo stylist Elissa Castelbou, our make-up artist Rika and our model Gabrielle.
And finally, to the person who handed us a screwdriver when we needed it most (those who’ve built temporary settings will understand...).