Paris Haute Couture S/S25: Valentino Has Vertigo — Maximalism or Madness?

Paris Haute Couture S/S25: Valentino Has Vertigo — Maximalism or Madness?

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Alessandro Michele’s first couture collection threw every possible reference into the mix, resulting in a dizzying spectacle of excess. Was it a masterful exercise in couture craftsmanship or an unhinged display of too-muchness?

Alessandro Michele doesn’t do subtlety. He doesn’t whisper. He doesn’t hint. He throws a 200-page thesis at you and dares you to keep up. For his first haute couture collection at Valentino, Vertigineux—French for dizzying—Michele didn’t just step into the Roman house’s legacy. He cracked open the archives, shook them upside down, and let the contents spill into a maximalist fever dream. If his Resort debut for Valentino had critics saying it was too Gucci, this was something else entirely. Too much? Maybe. But then again, when has Michele ever been about restraint?

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The show opened in typical Michele fashion—dramatic, theatrical, and excessive. Gowns were made with fabric that could upholster an entire palazzo, bows tied in proportions that defied physics, and pleats so sharp they could cut glass. Each of the 48 looks came with its own personality, an ensemble cast of historical references colliding on the runway. Harlequin prints, peasant blouses, samurai embroidery, commedia dell’arte silhouettes—it was like flipping through the pages of A Beginner’s Guide to Art History, but on hallucinogens.

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Michele described the collection as inspired by lists, specifically how philosopher Umberto Eco viewed them—as both a way to create order and an endless, chaotic spiral. Which explains why every seat at the show came with a document thick enough to double as a weapon. A guide? A manifesto? A desperate plea to understand what, exactly, was happening? If a designer needs 200 pages to explain a collection, did the collection even have an explanation?

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At its best, Vertigineux was couture as a spectacle—an exercise in excess that was so absurd it circled back to brilliance. Massive gowns invaded the space, reshaping the way the body moved. The headpieces—ornate, elaborate, somewhere between medieval armor and Venetian masquerade—reminded everyone that, yes, this was couture. The kind that demands to be seen, photographed, and debated.

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But at its most chaotic, the collection was a dizzying overload. Ruffles, quilting, needlepoint, flapper fringe, baroque flourishes—it was couture with a mixer set to high-speed, throwing everything into the pot and refusing to strain out a single ingredient. If haute couture is about craftsmanship, precision, and storytelling, this was a story with too many subplots and an ending left intentionally ambiguous.

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Michele himself acknowledged the sense of vertigo that comes with couture, describing it as a loss of balance. In that sense, Vertigineux was a fitting name. The collection was intentionally destabilizing—history captured by a designer who treats time like a mood board. Some critics called it pretentious. Others saw it as genius. Either way, it wasn’t forgettable.

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Was it too much? That depends on who you ask. To some, it was an opulent, poetic love letter to Valentino’s heritage. To others, it was couture on overdrive, throwing so much at the audience that meaning got lost in the lines of a crinoline skirt. But if Alessandro Michele has proven anything, it’s that he doesn’t care about playing it safe. This is his Valentino, and he’s going all in.


Photos: VALENTINO

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