Elie Saab Spring Summer 2026 Haute Couture “A Golden Mirage Between Milos and Marrakech”. Story by RUNWAY MAGAZINE. Photo Courtesy: Elie Saab.

Elie Saab’s Spring Summer 2026 Haute Couture collection arrives with a press release that promises “Golden Summer Nights of ’71,” but what it truly delivers is a heady hybrid—1920s Art Deco elegance by way of 1970s jet-set nostalgia, poured through the gilded sieve of Elie Saab’s signature embellishment. It’s Milos meets Marrakech, shaken not stirred, with a dash of fringe and fur for good measure.

Set against the monumental backdrop of the Théâtre de Chaillot—an icon of 1937 modernism—Saab’s decision to stage his show there wasn’t coincidental. The venue echoed with echoes of another pre-war golden age, and the live score by Thomas Verovski and the Scoring Orchestra bent time further with psychedelic strings and folk-rock flourishes. It was an intentional collage of eras: 1920s silhouettes, 1930s Parisian theatricality, 1970s hedonism. The result? A collection that tried to say “cool” and “couture” in the same breath—and almost succeeded.

Backstage, Saab said he wanted the collection to feel “relaxed.” In the haute couture lexicon, that’s relative. His version of casual still arrives hand-beaded, be-crystalled, and occasionally fur-trimmed. And yet, somehow, the clothes didn’t feel heavy. The opening look—a crop top drenched in beadwork, paired with a tawny print skirt—revealed itself to be backless, casually shrugged on like a resort cover-up. If resortwear came with a six-figure invoice.

There were moments of genuine innovation. Leather, often the outsider at couture week, was stripped thin as chiffon and worked into macramé-laced gowns. A chocolate gilet shimmered like woven bronze. Fringe fluttered like zebra stripes. A tank-top silhouette—yes, Saab says tank tops will reign next season—got the couture treatment in silk chiffon, crystal netting, and stylized feathers the color of faded postcards from the Aegean.

Art Deco references shimmered quietly in the background, nodding to the show’s location and Saab’s perennial flirtation with the 1920s. Gradient metallics—silver fading to gold—gave some of the gowns a streamlined, almost architectural sheen. Elsewhere, embroidery melted into invisible tulle bases, like the embellishment had decided to evaporate mid-gown. It was clever. Almost subversive. Almost.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t rebellion. Saab isn’t dismantling couture conventions—he’s reclining on a sun-drenched terrace somewhere near Hydra, humming to Serge Gainsbourg, and letting the crystals catch the light. This is a fantasy of affluence, not a critique of it. And for a designer so fluent in grandeur, that’s exactly the point.

Is it groundbreaking? No. But is it gorgeously escapist, impeccably executed, and vaguely reminiscent of a Slim Aarons photo come to life? Absolutely. This season, Saab gives us couture with a passport and a playlist—and just enough nonchalance to call it modern.

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