Balenciaga Fall-Winter 2025-2026 Haute Couture “The Final Detour of Demna: Couture on Life Support”. Review by Eleonopra de Gray, Editor-in-Chief of RUNWAY MAGAZINE. Photo / Video Courtesy: Balenciaga.

The End, Finally

Balenciaga closed Haute Couture week in Paris with what Demna declared “the perfect way to finish my decade at Balenciaga.”
Yes, finish. A word that never sounded more like a blessing.
After ten years of trauma-core turtlenecks and showroom crime scenes, the performance art experiment that moonlighted as fashion has finally packed its bags. The hype machine sputtered one last time… and stopped.

Demna insisted he came as “close as possible to being satisfied in this endless pursuit of impossible perfection — the defining ethos of Cristóbal Balenciaga.”
The irony is almost poetic. Because if Cristóbal were watching, he’d probably ask someone to turn the Wi-Fi off.

Couture or Costume Rental?

Enter Kim Kardashian, styled as Elizabeth Taylor, complete with Lorraine Schwartz’s legendary diamonds. It had everything except the elegance, mystery, or meaning.
This was less “tribute” and more deepfake—an algorithm-generated fantasy of what old Hollywood might look like in a TikTok recap. A visual metaphor for the entire “Demna era“: borrowed references, blown up to billboard size, and then filtered through celebrity for relevance.

As for the rest of the collection?
A parade of high shoulders you could land drones on. Feathers from the “too much” section of a drag store. Flower prints that dreamed of being Warhol, but woke up as bad wallpaper.
Let’s not forget the leather gowns and BDSM-biker-butch suits. Somewhere between “Mad Max” and “Village People”, they tried to whisper “power” but ended up mumbling “costume.”

But again — Demna reminded us, he’s focused on “desirable products.”
That’s adorable.
Because unless “desirable” now means “perpetually on sale at -70%,” someone needs to check the definition. The stores are empty. The clothes are unsellable. And the designs? Derivative of designers who actually cared about silhouette over shock.

Couture You Can’t Move In

The tragedy of it all? These were clothes made to be admired — but not worn.
The models moved like mannequins on sedatives. The garments were so rigid, they looked embalmed. Haute couture is supposed to be fluid, magical, alive. This was structural punishment disguised as art.

At moments, it felt like the collection was designed for stockmen, not people.
You could practically hear the seams groaning.

Photoshop, But Make It Lazy

Now for the pièce de résistance: the lookbook.
Rather than photographing the collection on actual streets of Paris (a city Demna claims shaped his career), the models were Photoshopped into various city settings. Poorly.
They appeared oddly out of scale — slightly too big for the scenery — like couture King Kongs let loose in Montmartre.

Was it surrealism?
No. Just bad compositing.
Wouldn’t it have been more interesting to see real stars in real couture walking real Parisian streets?
Sure. But who has the time, budget, or imagination for that anymore? Apparently not Kering.

Public Displays of… Something

Then came the finale—Demna beaming, François-Henri Pinault embracing him with what can only be described as enthusiastic devotion. Kisses, hand-holding, and just a touch too much eye contact.
Fashion is a business of relationships, of course. But this one felt a little… theatrical.

We won’t speculate. That’s not our business.
We’re here to discuss the feathers.

Visa Versa: Pierpaolo In, Demna Out

Context matters. And no, this wasn’t just a farewell bow — it was a calculated pivot, as exposed in “Balenciaga Visa Versa Valentino”.

After months of speculation, Kering executed a clean corporate pirouette: Pierpaolo Piccioli — formerly Valentino’s prince of poetic drapery — is now Creative Director of Balenciaga.
Yes, you heard that right.
The house that spent a decade glamorizing garbage bags and leather gags is now being handed to the man who gave us operatic grace and actual red-carpet relevance.

And Demna? He wasn’t so much let go as relocated — gently kissed, clutched, and quietly moved across the chessboard to Gucci.
Because when Kering reshuffles, they don’t fire — they hug sideways.

So what was all that kissing from François-Henri Pinault about?

The Demna decade at Balenciaga didn’t end in scandal or exile — it ended in human resources ballet, with applause and flash photography.

And what will Pierpaolo do with Balenciaga? No one knows yet. But one thing is certain:
There will be no duct tape boots.

Legacy? Let’s Call It What It Is.

Will this final collection go down in history? Maybe.
But not as an ode to Cristóbal. More likely as a case study in branding hysteria—where fashion became a metaphor for alienation, and couture became a vehicle for social commentary no one asked for.

To Demna’s credit, he tried. He did his version of couture. He made it loud, ironic, stiff, theatrical, and yes—on occasion—BDSM-interesting.
But couture is not a TED Talk. It’s not a Twitter meme. And it’s certainly not a Power Point presentation superimposed on Google Street View.

And Yet… They Applauded

And let’s be honest: people were happy.
The very small, very loyal community in attendance applauded like it was the second coming of fashion. Kisses were exchanged. Smiles all around. The show ended on a strangely cheerful note, as if everyone in the room knew something the rest of us didn’t.

Maybe the statue of peeing Rick Owens in the Petit Palais during Haute Couture week was the cherry on top?
Because honestly, how else do you mark the end of an era? Era of Haute Couture?..

And maybe that’s the truth of it.
Demna didn’t make clothes for the world. He made them for a tiny cult of people who enjoy being confused, provoked, and praised for understanding it.
For the rest of us? We watched. We squinted. We nodded politely.
And now… we move on.

See All Looks Balenciaga Fall-Winter 2025-2026 Haute Couture – last Demna collection