Runway Rundown: CELINE Men’s F/W26 Is Over Trying Too Hard

Menswear has lately mistaken volume for meaning. Bigger ideas, louder clothes, endless explaining. Michael Rider, on the other hand, has chosen something far more subversive for CELINE Men’s F/W26: clothes that actually want to be worn.

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Instead of a runway packed with theatrics, Rider presented the collection on pegs—hung, waiting, calm. The message was immediate and a little cheeky: this isn’t a costume department, this is a wardrobe. The looks radiated a studied nonchalance, the kind that suggests taste rather than effort. You didn’t watch the clothes. You clocked them. Then you imagined yourself in them.

As Rider put it, this was about “character over costume“. And for what it’s worth, that line wasn’t vapor. The clothes didn’t try to become personalities. They left that job to the man wearing them.

From Rock God to Real Man

CELINE menswear, introduced under Hedi Slimane in 2019, thrived on narrow silhouettes and rock-chic posturing. Think leather trousers, Saint-Germain rebellion, intellectual decadence with a cigarette permanently lit. Rider doesn’t erase that chapter, but he closes the book.

The tailoring immediately signals the shift. Coats sit slightly higher at the waist, belted with sophistication. Double-breasted jackets carry offbeat sleeve creases, but don’t look labored over. Gold buttons glint softly on boxy melton blazers.

His CELINE man still likes music, still appreciates a sharp line, still understands seduction. He also has places to be.

The Confidence of Good Clothes

There’s a ’90s undertone throughout: generous coats, French-blue shirts, moleskin camel outerwear that looks better the more you forget about it. Rider understands that great menswear improves with neglect. Camel suits came with impeccable proportions, the kind that age into themselves. A sand-toned blazer paired with dusty rose trousers proved that tonal dressing can still surprise when handled by someone with restraint and nerve.

Outerwear was the quiet star. A floor-length trench in putty moved with cinematic ease, worn open like it had places to go. Beneath it, a cropped denim jacket with a raw-edge collar introduced just enough friction. Utility met elegance, shook hands, and moved on.

American Ease, Parisian Precision

There is something unmistakably American running through Rider’s CELINE, though it’s not loud about it. Maybe it’s the stacks of jeans and sweaters climbing toward the ceiling, washed in every shade of lived experience. Maybe it’s the insistence on options—this, or that, or both. But filtered through Paris, the effect becomes refinement with room to breathe.

Rider, a former design director under Phoebe Philo and later the creative lead at Polo Ralph Lauren, brings both histories into play without announcing either. You see it in the cut of a cashmere topcoat finished with tuxedo lapels. In a paper-thin leather trench that reads elegant without ever tipping into precious. In silk scarves in vibrant colors. The Arc de Triomphe appears discreetly, popping up like a knowing nod rather than a billboard. CELINE suggests that the wearer completes the thought.

This is perhaps the most radical idea Rider puts forward: trust the customer. CELINE offers the pieces, then steps aside. The clothes don’t ask to be decoded or defended. Simply, they just want to be worn.

In an industry obsessed with grandeur, Rider’s proposal is almost rebellious in its simplicity: get dressed, then live your life. For all sorts of days, nights, and moments. For anyone who knows who they are—or at least doesn’t need their clothes to decide for them.

Photos courtesy of CELINE