The Spring-Summer 2027 menswear calendar has arrived and, faithful to Parisian tradition, it promises a week of intense strategic activity surrounding a subject as light as a cashmere coat lined with lead: fashion. Seventy-four brands, thirty-six runway shows and thirty-eight presentations will unfold before the inspired gaze of a meticulously dressed crowd. The opening will belong to the students of the French Fashion Institute, a charming ritual in which the future is applauded with enthusiasm. A touching custom, although one detail persists with Swiss regularity: despite the school’s prestigious reputation, not a single graduate currently stands at the helm of a major French or international fashion house. A launchpad whose rockets sometimes seem to prefer theoretical orbit.

Meanwhile, the true sovereigns of the calendar remain firmly settled upon their upholstered thrones. Louis Vuitton, Dior, Junya Watanabe, Comme des Garçons and Yohji Yamamoto occupy their customary slots with the serenity of dynasties that know no one would dare disturb their creative teatime. Hermès opts for a discreet presentation ahead of Grace Wales Bonner’s arrival, Saint Laurent returns on the very first day, Sarah Burton unveils her Givenchy menswear, and Michael Rider will finally reveal the first menswear collection for Celine of his reign. In fashion, every “first collection” is announced with the suspense of a papal election and the dramatic restraint of a historical series.

Yet the season also brings its small aristocratic whims: Jacquemus disappears from the schedule without explanation, leaving Kidsuper to close the week, while Loewe prefers its mixed format and Vetements finally joins the menswear calendar. Guram Gvasalia, rather than Demna, explains this choice by arguing that March and September have become a battle among conglomerates, where each spends more than its neighbor to attract attention, whereas menswear still preserves a more authentic and cultural spirit.

In short, in my view: the festivals are in full swing, and it is more pleasant to discuss the “depth of clothing” on a sunlit terrace than in the midst of a logos war. Paris thus continues its favorite performance: making a fierce struggle appear as a refined conversation about the poetry of trousers. Welcome to Marrant & Cie.

FM