And ties. And everything else you may already have in your wardrobe

On a runway that mimics the boardgame, Snakes and Ladders, Louis Vuitton evoked the boardroom. Pharrell William sent out considerable number of suits, office shirts with white collars, and even ties. The significant emphasis on tailoring is rather unexpected, considering the audience that LV targets does not immediately gravitate towards business wear as much as a brand known for its sartorial heritage, such as Dunhill. While Mr Williams’s approach consistently involves re-contextualising familiar elements and nudging boundaries, the novelty emerging from this collection’s corporate pieces remains somewhat unclear, such as those by Hugo Boss. Sure, his suits are “dandy-fied”, but are they redirecting the on-going departure from formal wear, particularly those that project a business vibe? Fans say that Mr William’s tailoring for Louis Vuitton spring/summer 2026 isn’t aimed at the traditional corporate uniform. Rather, it’s “a reimagining of tailoring for a contemporary luxury lifestyle”. But, styled like corporate wear—some of the models looked strikingly like after-work music executives commuting home.

This season, the Louis Vuitton show returned to an outdoor runway, staged at the Place Georges-Pompidou, the open plaza in front of the museum. Even with the Centre Pompidou undergoing renovation, its iconic façade provided a crucial landmark-as-backdrop. The inside-out design possibly spoke to Mr William’s desire to break conventional luxury norms. Just as notable was the design of the carpet that defined the space—a reimagining of the Snakes and Ladders game against the LV Damier, crafted in collaboration with Studio Mumbai, led by the celebrated architect Bijoy Jain. Curiously, it was missing the ladders. The winding snakes, however, found a visual echo in the nearby, vibrant sculptures of the Stravinsky Fountain, designed in 1983 by sculptors Jean Tinguely and Niki de Saint Phalle. But Snake and Ladders without the ladders—the means or alternative routes to scale greater heights—seems to suggest that perhaps Mr Williams has plateaued amidst the chaotic and challenging terrain of high luxury fashion, now even more fraught with the dangers of those metaphorical serpents.

Mr Williams used a globally recognized symbol of modernity, intellectual curiosity, and artistic boundary-breaking to underscore his own creative philosophy and the narrative of his LV menswear, but two years after his tenure at the house, there still seems to be the adherence to seeing through a Black lens, to keep, as it were, the legacy of the late Virgil Abloh very much alive. The prominence of Black cultural elements—also the casting and the Black gospel choir—still reclaim the narrative, still spotlight the Black dandy, and still craft clichéd cultural experiences. This, naturally, aligns with LV’s desire to be a “maison culturelle”, a deliberate shift in its identity to be more than just a luxury brand. Mr Williams, therefore, continues to leverage his own deeply-ingrained connection to Black aesthetics to enrich and redefine the LV’s cultural cachet.

However, this consistent approach also raises nagging questions about the references’ long-term viability, as it teeters on the dull, even the oversaturated. The palpable risk of over-selling or commodifying this Black aesthetic, potentially leading to a sense of tokenism or a flattening of its rich diversity over time is already sensed. It is arguable, therefore, that a sustained, singular focus on one aesthetic, no matter how powerful, how persuasive, could eventually limit the brand’s expansive potential or even lead to fatigue amongst consumers. Mr Williams needs to go beyond a perceived reliance on a single cultural lens and a salad bowl of American ‘classics’, ensuring it remains dynamic and genuinely inclusive without becoming repetitive.

Yet, the long-term appeal of this approach faces an additional challenge: the shifting global landscape. Given the socio-political currents now flowing from the U.S., it is no longer certain that Americanism, and specifically Black American cultural influence, continues to sell as strongly in the global luxury market. While the models were walking on the runway with imperturbable composure, America’s projection of military might has not ended the humanitarian crisis of the Middle East. Recent data, including reports from Politico and Ipsos, confirm a significant decline in the global popularity and positive perception of the U.S., particularly among traditional allies in Europe and Canada. Mr Williams’s overt positioning risks alienation for broader audiences who look at luxury fashion as access to social status, especially when exclusivity shifts to cultural alignment or specific identity.

While Mr. Williams’s approach is far from flag-waving patriotism, and he has, this season, been astute enough to incorporate motifs from other cultures—such as the Indian-inspired elephants and coconut trees, or the everyday looks synonymous with boiler room uniforms, truck drivers, and off-duty pool boys—this broadening of references still often filters through a distinctly American lens. Pharrell Williams may be considered a global influence, but his impact differ fundamentally from that of the Japanese designers, who are showing in impressively large numbers this Paris season. Their strength, by contrast, often lies in a more abstract, forward-thinking approach to design, form, and material innovation that transcends obvious cultural identifiers. In the end, Mr Wiliams’s collection forces a compelling question: To borrow a culinary metaphor, will the future of luxury fashion be a subtly infused sous-vide experience, or a more overtly impactful, overwhelming flavoured deep-fried spectacle? Indeed, which taste will truly endure?

Screen shot (top): louisvuitton/YouTube. Photos: Louis Vuitton