For His Louis Vuitton Spring 2026 Show, Nicolas Ghesquière Dreamt of Home

Louis Vuitton’s Spring/Summer 2026 show invites us behind closed doors, where Nicolas Ghesquière reimagines the private rituals of homewear as the height of modern luxury.

“Home is where I wanna be…” murmured Cate Blanchett’s unmistakable voice over a reimagined rendition of Talking Heads’ This Must Be the Place by Tanguy Destable, setting the tone for a Louis Vuitton show staged beneath the ornate Italian-inspired panelling and painted ceilings of Anne of Austria’s summer apartments at the Musée du Louvre. Nicolas Ghesquière’s Spring/Summer 2026 collection explored the intimacy of home through the prisms of fantasy and history. He proposed that homewear, when seen through his lens, can be as glamorous, sculptural, and transportive as any ballgown or tailored suit.

There was a sense of stepping into a dreamscape, or into a wardrobe assembled across centuries. For Ghesquière, home was not a location but a feeling, stitched into dressing gowns, travel slippers, corsetry, and the private layers we wrap around ourselves when no one is watching. It was luxurious homeware for a time travel experience.

The opening look set the tone with ghostly presence: a skeletal dressing gown, scalloped and wired at the shoulder into a mutton sleeve silhouette, like a fragment of bedwear suspended in time. Its seams tapered like technical gear, yet the fabric was toile-like. It was both armor and exposure. What followed was a cinematic sweep through silhouettes and references. Pleated damask silk dresses with swathes of fabric brushed against crayola-colored wool socks, worn with eyelet travel slippers and lace-up high-tops. A blazer became a dressing gown. A duchess satin kaftan caught the light like lacquered wallpaper. Knitwear came stretched and fringed, sleeves flaring to improbable proportions. Even the most domestic pieces, sweatshirts and sweatpants, felt playful, subverting the principles of an “indoor wardrobe” by turning innerwear into outerwear.

Seventeenth-century influences were visible throughout: ruffled collars softened into satin, corset seams shaped modern bodices, and puffed sleeves layered like shells. Dresses resembled Roman togas, while skirts expanded with pannier-like hips reminiscent of the 18th century. ’70s capris in denim and brocade trousers featured unexpected wooden circles protruding. The theatrical style echoed Marc Jacobs’ late-2000s Louis Vuitton period, but with a more spectral, domestic fantasy tone. Prairie gowns were heavily embellished, shirt dresses resembled ’50s aprons, and pleated polyester babydolls appeared light and airy. Some silhouettes subtly referenced Azzedine Alaïa’s precise pattern cutting and late-eighties power dressing. 

The palette was soft and lived-in, featuring pale blues, powdered pinks, soft greys, creams, taupes, and browns, punctuated by burnt terracotta and flashes of metallic accessories. Textural details whispered their own stories; raindrop beaded fringing, detachable elongated collars, and shaggy Afghan-trimmed jackets equally at home in a 1970s living room. 

If nostalgia flickered, it was never indulgent. Ghesquière’s vision felt contemporary, even self-aware, nodding to the Gen Z revival of boudoir dressing made viral by figures like Sabrina Carpenter and Addison Rae. But instead of irony, he infused every look with polish, emotional weight, and a touch of surrealism.

This was a collection of dualities: interior versus exterior, fantasy versus function, softness versus structure. More than clothes, it was a wardrobe for living, whether in solitude or spectacle. Ghesquière created a world: a place to return to, a place to dream in.