I have stood inside it many times, but the feeling never becomes ordinary. The gilded ceilings, the sweep of the grand staircase, the way the light falls differently on everyone inside — it is a place that demands something of you. It asks you to rise to it. And every woman who walks through those doors does.

That is what I kept coming back to when designing this Fall collection: not the performance on stage, but the performance of getting dressed for it. The ritual of it. The way a woman moves through a room when she knows she looks extraordinary.

I showed this collection in Paris, at the Opera Garnier, because no other setting could hold what I was trying to say. But this season, the road to Paris passed through Sicily. Something about the island stayed with me — the way nothing there is purely one thing. Greek columns beside Moorish archways, Italian light falling over Arab-Norman cathedrals, centuries of culture coexisting without contradiction. I wandered the markets, turning over antique swatches and forgotten embroideries, understanding how something old can become the most modern thing in a room.

Perhaps it resonated so deeply because I have always lived that way myself — born in Israel to Hungarian parents, building my life and work in New York. That eclectic spirit has always been central to what we do. The depth of history, architecture, music, and craftsmanship is reflected throughout this season, creating a wardrobe that feels worldly and deeply romantic. Fall 26 lives inside all of it — and this month, it begins with two stories.

Evening Overtures

This collection begins at the Opera — in the hush before the curtain rises, when the room is at its most beautiful. The woman who dresses for this moment doesn't choose between elegance and ease; she refuses to give either one up. Satin-back crepe meets lace in silhouettes that draw from the language of lingerie — fluid, intimate, entirely modern. Slip dresses, camisoles, tailored jackets, and trousers move effortlessly from day into evening, interchangeable by nature and deliberate by design. A palette of toffee and black gives the collection its depth: rich enough to feel dramatic, refined enough to feel like her own skin.

Wild Classics

If Evening Overtures is the hush, Wild Classics is what happens when the music begins. A uniform emerges — strong, unapologetically feminine, built for a woman who doesn't soften herself for anyone. Tiger and animal prints converge with soft suede and precise tailoring, and the result is a wardrobe that feels powerful without trying. The bow blouse returns as a signature, worn loosely for ease or tied perfectly for authority. Tweed layers and sweater sets bring polish and structure, rooted in the heritage details I return to every season — lace, embroidery, craftsmanship that carries its own history. These aren't garments that ask to be noticed. They simply cannot be ignored.

Growing up in Israel, in a home filled with artwork my Hungarian parents collected over the years, I would stand in front of a painting and find my eyes drawn past the canvas, to the gilded edge holding it. The painter is celebrated, but it's the framer — the craftsman bent over wood and gesso and gold leaf, shaping something with his hands so precise it disappears into its own purpose — whose work moves me most. A beautiful frame never asks to be noticed. It exists only to hold something else up to the light.

That is what I believe garments should do.

A woman is the most important subject in any room. My work is to build the frame around her — fabric instead of gilt, a seam instead of a carved edge — so that she, not the clothing, is what people remember. I see frames everywhere I look: in the artwork from my childhood home, in the windows of our stores, in the line where a sleeve meets a shoulder. The July Collection comes from that same instinct, told through two stories.

Modern Portrait

This is the idea in its purest form. Portraiture returns here, reimagined through a modern lens — black and white silk and poplin, cut to frame the body the way a canvas frames a portrait. Clean lines hold the figure with the same elegance I admired as a boy, echoed now through something undeniably present: structured enough to give shape, quiet enough to let her be the only thing you see.

Dreaming of Fall

This story carries us to Paris — to Avenue Montaigne, where the Ungaro atelier has stood for decades and where I now spend my days as creative director. I remember walking that street as a young fashion student, long before any of this belonged to me, stopping in front of the windows and imagining what it might feel like to have an atelier of my own there one day. That dream is still the one I return to every time I sit down to design. In Paris, the shift begins — summer softens, and thoughts turn toward fall. I found it in green and blue standing in effortless contrast to animal prints and indigo capsules that mirror the city itself. It's here that inspiration becomes tangible, and dressing becomes a reflection of the moment.

It swings open as would a gate to Eden, to a world unspoiled, quiet, golden, alive. As I stepped inside, birds sang through the garden as light shimmered off the old panes, and I felt as if I had answered an invitation to bask in its memory, and be changed.

The Hôtel de Maisons' link to the fashion world is well known and longstanding for reasons, to me, that are self-evident. We dress our bodies as we dress our homes, seeking comfort, protection, and expression. This collection draws on the architecture and spirit of this famous mansion, echoing the women I design for—strong, delicate, evolving. Silhouettes, textures, and signature details revive the soul of the space, rooted in Eden's story of exile and return.

I believe clothing began in Eden, as protection, yet it reveals more of the soul than bare skin ever could. In uncertain times, we hope to unite and remind that beauty matters, beginnings are possible, and Paris—always Paris—is where we bloom again.

The displays unfolded in a world of black and white with only the faintest touch of color, almost like an x-ray into the construction of ideas. Beautiful video installations played against raw cement walls, creating a striking mix of simplicity and sophistication. Poiret's motif — the iconic rose, and the spirit of Erté — stood out with a clarity that felt both historic and surprisingly contemporary.

I was inspired by the early fashion drawings of 1913–1920 — the lacey, moody glamour, the beginnings of modern sportswear, the rise of animal prints and stripes, the sense of travel that defined high summer.

Stripes appeared everywhere, in knitwear, in prints, in tailoring — a repetition creating a visual refresh between seasons.

There's something grounding about returning to pure black-and-white before moving back into florals and bold patterns.