One of the first things I wrote down in preparation for this text was “New Fab.” And Pierpaolo Piccioli’s debut at Balenciaga was fab, I know. But I actually meant something else: the newly introduced neo gazar fabric, inspired by Cristóbal Balenciaga’s original double-face textile. This probably sounds super boring to you right now. But let me explain why I wrote that down: this fabric is woven with two warps, two wefts. An initial layer of gauze. A second layer of softer organza made with continuous silk warp. Two textiles becoming a single entity. Just like Cristóbal and Piccioli’s spirits in the Spring/Summer 2026 show.
To go even further now, this fabric is exactly what made Balenciaga, Balenciaga in the first place — if I can say so. It provides structure without stiffness, creating sculptural shapes through cut only, and not through underlying constructs, as we often see at other high fashion brands. It produces breaks and intentional imperfection while keeping a visible, timeless shiny gauze effect. Now, Piccioli added yet another lamiset weft into the organza layer – a blend of silk and wool – making it even less stiff and more tailoring-oriented. A game of volume and lightness. Of clean lines and big silhouettes. And to be even more dramatic, or poetic, or however you’re going to call it: Cristóbal would be the gauze — the weave structure that adds stability. Piccioli would be the organza. Romantic yet plain (in a good way), crisp with a slippery yet elegant surface.
At least in my opinion, this analogy perfectly captures the essence and the thought behind this collection that was titled The Heartbeat, a title that immediately reveals the official inspiration behind everything. Because for Piccioli, the heartbeat, this rhythm of life, is what embodies human existence, defined by feelings, recognition, the memory of who we have been and the imagination of who we will become. It’s what connects us and makes us individuals at the same time. A bit abstract. But basically, the House’s new creative director summarised it in his show notes by saying: “This collection exists because we recognised, saw and welcomed one another.” And that’s something you can definitely see in the designs. Piccioli recognized Cristóbal, saw him, and they somehow (post mortem, so again a bit abstract) welcomed each other. Even in non-obvious details like the new neo gazar fab(ric).
But don’t get me wrong, this collection isn’t meant as a tribute. Rather, it’s a recollection of Cristóbal’s shadows intertwined with Piccioli’s vision coming together to create something entirely new. As the House put it in the press release: “Not homage, but recalibration.” And the longer you study the pieces, the more moments like these reveal themselves.
A lemon-yellow skirt, for example, that ends right underneath the model’s knees. Embroidered with feathers that create an airy fish-scale pattern. Paired with a cropped top whose sharp, angular shoulders transition into a train in the back. A purple feather hat reminiscent of a riding cap and black platform flip-flops. It’s a look that is directly inspired by a fitted dress from the brand’s archives from the 50s and 60s, with the same length and the same feathers. Another look that is based on Cristóbal’s designs is an abstract, flowy leather cape with straight collar, short in the front, revealing the model’s belly button, long and round in the back. Like a wide, compact ring around the body. Or the opening look: a sack dress inspired by a gown that was first introduced in 1957. Something radical, groundbreaking, and emancipative in times of hourglass shapes.
Basically, to cut it short, there are so many looks in this collection that are a reference to Cristóbal’s archive pieces — you can see them everywhere. The architectural silhouettes. The weightlessness. Clothes conceived for and around a dynamic body. Bubbly skirts. Low waists. Gloves. I could go on paragraph by paragraph analysing each look, but I’ll spare you and rather continue.
Because now, it gets interesting. Not only did Piccioli take Cristóbal’s design language and weave it together with his own. No. He also took the design language of other previous creative directors. Nicolas Ghesquière, for example. With a new variation of the oversized coat with big buttons, rounded sleeves and a rounded back from the Fall 2006 collection. The riding hats or the iconic Le City Bag that was first introduced by him in 2001. And of course, there’s Demna. Found in deep black fly-like sunglasses and many street style elements: leather jackets, jeans that touch the floor, T-shirts and baggy pants. If you’re wondering what Piccioli now brings into all that, let me tell you: a graceful, subtly romantic atmosphere and an opulent use of strong colours.
There’s especially one look that summarised all this for me: a sheer, oversized T-shirt that, again, transitions at the back into a long, flowy train. Combined with black, straight, long pants and intensely hot pink leather gloves. The T-shirt with the train screams Cristóbal and Kim Kardashian’s 2021 Met Gala look designed by Demna at the same time. The pants whisper Ghesquière. And finally, the pink is a statement colour that we already know (and learned to love) from Piccioli’s Valentino days.
Now, after that long lesson in fashion history, let’s come to an end: Today, Ghesquière is the creative director of Louis Vuitton’s women’s collections; Demna is at Gucci; Alessandro Michele, at Gucci before, took over Valentino — closing the circle with Piccioli transferring from Valentino to Balenciaga. The creative director musical chairs was super exciting to watch and definitely woke us all up. Because it shows how connected all contemporary design languages are with each other, without them losing their individuality. Like this heartbeat thing Piccioli talked about. It showed how you can successfully honour the past and still show growth – something Piccioli maybe even managed in one of the most beautiful ways this season (Yes, yes, don’t worry, Jonathan Anderson at Dior, Louise Trotter at Bottega Veneta, and Matthieu Blazy for Chanel also were some of my favourite debuts).
Because of that, if we really want this to make sense – or better yet, if we want my fabric analogy from the beginning to reach its final form – then this neo gazar deserves more than just two layers. Let’s give it four: Cristóbal as the gauze, Ghesquière as the subtle silk, Demna as the disruptive wool, and Piccioli as the soft organza pulling it all together. Each one distinct. Each one essential. Woven not side by side, but into each other, creating a textile that shapes history, friction and emotion. A fabric as alive as a heartbeat. Maybe that’s the true innovation. Maybe that’s the future of Balenciaga.
