CamperLab has crossed a threshold. This time, not merely as an experimental footwear label, but as a complete, autonomous, unpredictable entity. Its official debut on the Paris Fashion Week calendar, with the Spring/Summer 2026 collection, was not a cry for independence but a dense, muffled whisper reverberating from the abandoned garage at 62 Avenue de la République. A space covered in concrete, smoke, and fluorescence that transported you to a dystopia softened by artifice, where the decadent becomes desirable. The invitation already hinted at it: a blue parking disc that looked torn from a rusted future.
The attendees, a disparate cast reflecting CamperLab’s mutant DNA, ranging from Najwa Nimri to Baya Gorbusha, Sunny Sunyang, Juan Perales, and Maria Bernad, among others, all immersed themselves in an environment where the walls sweated oil and the models walked like viscous spectres. The choreography by Michele Rizzo, supported by an immersive soundtrack created by Pandora’s Jukebox, offered a drift, a displacement without destination, as though fashion had become unmoored from time itself.
As for the twenty looks, they weren’t designed to please. Distorted, faded or torn garments floated or clung to the body like a second industrial skin. Worn terracotta-toned leather, illusory tartans, tight-fitting t-shirts paired with pieces that seemed to overflow the human figure. Everything in CamperLab happens through contrast: garments that shouldn’t coexist, palettes that shouldn’t converse (black, terracotta, red, grey, brown). The new Tornado trainer, spiked along the sole, appeared in white, blue-white, orange-black, black-white, grey, and silver. Another standout was the Tormenta sunglasses, in shades such as blue, grey, brown, and black. Together, they marked the cardinal points of a map known only to Achilles Ion Gabriel.
The casting, the work of Chouaïb Arif, seemed chosen less for faces than for auras. This wasn’t a show of models, but of characters. Each one seemed to have emerged directly from a parallel universe where CamperLab is the only possible language. Raya Martigny, Sven Marquardt, Matt Ox, Lia Lia, Gigi Goode, and Coucou Chloe, alongside anonymous faces, orbited a centre that appears not to exist.
With this show, CamperLab is no longer merely the place where the strange is tested: it is now the site from which the strange begins to make sense — and become desirable. A new monogram seals it, a mark that severs itself from Camper like an umbilical cord cut with a chainsaw.
