Postcards From Paris Fashion Week

Stepping off the plane at Charles de Gaulle, I was instantly hit by the smell of croissants in the air - I had officially arrived in Paris. Even the airport arrivals lounge looked like a runway. I don’t know how these humans or models? influencers? gods? manage to step off 24-hour flights looking like they’ve just done a shoot for Vogue. Paris, darling.

October’s Paris Fashion Week is widely considered the crown jewel of the fashion calendar. And this year’s lineup was even juicier than a Saint-Germain crêpe. The buzz? New creative directors taking the helm at the world's biggest houses:

Matthieu Blazy, formerly of Bottega Veneta, made his highly anticipated debut at Chanel.

Pierpaolo Piccioli stepped in at Balenciaga, bringing a poetic new energy.

And the ever-iconic Jean Paul Gaultier unveiled a fresh chapter under Duran Lantink.

I landed, changed shoes (priorities), and dashed straight to a catch-up with my friend Juliet, co-founder of the effortlessly elegant Marle. She had just shown in Paris for the very first time New Zealand fashion representing New Zealand. She was off to Barcelona for a shoot, but not before a quick orange juice and hug.

From there, the next few days were a blur of showrooms, stunning Parisian apartments, vintage lifts, and non-stop range viewings. Every turn of a staircase led to a dreamy studio — it’s thrilling, inspiring, and, let’s be honest, a little overwhelming when you’re looking at 100 racks of beige linen and trying to remember what city you’re in.

I had a huge "yay moment" bumping into Wynn Hamlyn in one showroom who is a another fantastic NZ designer doing big things internationally.

Matteau, A.EMERY, and One of Others from Australia - so many Southern Hemisphere brands on the ground, and absolutely holding their own.

One showroom even offered gin & tonics, tequila shots, or miso soup on arrival. I wish I was kidding. (Logan may or may not have been mistaken for a famous cricketer.)

Even though the days were full, Paris is best walked and is buzzing with scooters, dogs, and baguette-toting locals. Every doorway hides something beautiful: a marble courtyard, a secret garden, a gallery, or just the dreamiest staircase you’ve ever climbed.

The streets are like a live living breathing fashion editorial. The women? Trenches cinched at the waist, loafers, sleek buns, and gold jewellery. The men? Crisp white shirts, tailored trousers, jerseys slung over their shoulders and that smug “I woke up like this” Parisian confidence.

Everywhere you look: effortless elegance, dogs on leashes, and baguettes under arms, vogue slims in their mouths - a cliché that lives up to its charm and more.

Our final day involved a morning at Le Bon Marche, which is literally a Disney Land for adults – I wanted a full weekend pass, but I had a husband in tow. Honestly, it was like the happiest place on earth! The day ended with visiting an amazing French jewellery designer and of course, no trip to Paris is complete without visiting vintage designer stores and finding treasures from iconic designers from the past

 Our final day started at Le Bon Marché, which if there was a Disneyland for adults in my opinion, this would be it. I needed a weekend pass and a personal porter. Honestly? Pure retail euphoria. Logan, however, was starting to sweat.

From there, we visited an incredible French jewellery designer, sipped espresso with a side of sparkle, and did a final sweep of Paris’s iconic vintage designer stores in the hope of unearthing treasures from Chanel, Celine, YSL, but to no avail.

Au revoir, Paris, you were beautiful, inspiring, glamorous, and entirely unforgettable. My soul is full.

Bisous,

Rodelle 💋