The invitation for the Schiaparelli ready-to-wear show came with a gilded ring in the shape of a finger. It’s the kind of Surrealist anatomical detail that Daniel Roseberry has made a hallmark of his work at the house, serving as a teaser for a collection that was all about the power of illusion.
There was the literal use of trompe-l’oeil, in printed fur motifs on a denim coat with chunky shearling sleeves; a solarized body print on a knit sheath dress, and invisible tulle panels that were spliced into cable-knit sweaters, suit pants and bugle-beaded evening gowns to make them appear like they were floating on the skin.
But Roseberry also explored the power of clothing to transform its wearer into a warrior, if only on the cocktail circuit. Among his feral accessories were handbags sprouting gilded bird claws, and mule heels that looked like hissing kittens, rendered in resin and felt — to scarily realistic effect.
“That is the reality for our client. She is that b—h who is living that life, and she has made it very clear to us over the last few seasons: she doesn’t want boring, she doesn’t want classic,” the designer said backstage.
He titled the collection “The Sphinx,” in homage to a brooch designed by Alberto Giacometti for founder Elsa Schiaparelli, who is the subject of a major retrospective opening at the Victoria & Albert Museum later this month.
“This chimera — half-person, half-animal — speaks to the sort of contradictory thing inside of you, inside of me, inside of the brand as well,” Roseberry said.
Corset tops were stitched or layered with jersey and wadding to mold them into uncanny lumps and bumps, while ribbed knits featured suggestive cutouts or curled lettuce hems.
For all the carnal subtext, he also served plenty of polish. Schiaparelli started 2026 on a roll, dressing Teyana Taylor at the Golden Globes, Bad Bunny at the Grammys and Demi Moore at the Actor Awards, and Roseberry always has a canny eye on the red carpet.
Glossy textures shimmered in the pools of light that dotted the dramatically lit black runway inside the Carrousel du Louvre, the former hub of Paris Fashion Week. The hems of liquid silk satin skirts swooshed back into a beak-like point, while laminated treebark satin coiled around the body in sculptural folds.
If the patchy lighting made it hard to soak in all the details, it turned a long silver skirt into an absolute disco ball. It was made of 10,200 CDs laser cut into paillettes, 45,672 beads and silver metallic rhinestones, and 776 meters of antique silver metallic cord. The glistening black jacket that went with it was embroidered with cassette tape.
With a bouncy soundtrack to match, Roseberry was clearly having fun. “To have a heritage as rich as this feels priceless,” he beamed. “It’s the one thing you can’t fake.”