Kennedy Yanko Plays Dress-Up at Maison Margiela's Couture Show in Paris

Elle

10-07-2025

It's a sultry summer late afternoon in Paris, and the air inside Suite 403 at Le Meurice—the grande dame hotel perched regally over the Jardin des Tuileries—is thick with anticipation, perfume, and that certain brand of old-world opulence only the French can perfect. Gilded moldings, toile de Jouy armchairs, and ornate mirrors set the scene as artist Kennedy Yanko prepares for her first-ever haute couture show: Maison Margiela, designed by newly-minted creative director Glenn Martens.
'I feel like I'm playing dress-up,' Yanko laughs, sliding on a pair of stormy grey Margiela gloves that sweep dramatically past her elbows—an accessory her grandmother Juanita, a lifelong glove devotee, would no doubt admire. She lounges effortlessly on an antique chair, her sculptural blonde waves pinned with precision, channeling the elegance of a 1930s film star with a Miami edge.
Her look for the evening is pure Margiela seduction: a soft grey cashmere sweater casually slipping off one shoulder, a sheer black lace skirt that reveals just enough, and those impossibly chic Tabi pumps paired with delicate lace socks. A slouchy, perfectly worn Margiela bag in deep oxblood leather ties it all together. 'It's classic Margiela,' she says. 'There's this incredible sheerness and texture play—it's both hard and soft, sculptural yet fluid. It reminds me of my own work.'
Yanko's sculptures—an alchemical fusion of metal and paint skins—grapple with tension: weight and lightness, vulnerability and power. 'I approach dressing the same way,' she tells me between sips of espresso. 'It's about responsivity—how I feel that day, the space I'm in, the energy I want to carry.' Tonight, that energy is reverence. Maison Margiela's fall 2025 collection—staged at Le Centquatre, a vast industrial arts space—is a triumph of Gothic sensuality and material mastery. Martens, ever the Flemish romantic, draws from the towering cathedrals of Northern Europe, weaving ecclesiastical grandeur into corseted silhouettes, veiled figures, and lavish textures inspired by 16th-century Flemish interiors. Trompe l'oeil brushstrokes reminiscent of Gustave Moreau transform bodies into canvases, while crushed velvets, aged brocades, and repurposed plastics collide in breathtaking fashion.
As we drive through the Parisian streets en route to the show, Yanko muses on Martens's singular genius. 'He's a true materialist,' she says, her voice tinged with admiration. 'There's such curiosity in his work—this push and pull between construction and deconstruction. I feel completely aligned with his ethos.'
Inside the venue, the audience is met with a surreal mise-en-scène: walls and floors covered in collages of palatial interiors, chairs haphazardly scattered like a decadent afterparty in some forgotten château. The show begins, and from the first look, it's clear that Martens is leading us deep into the labyrinth.
Two standout moments captivate our attention. Look 10, a gilded, heart-shaped skirt woven with metal threads and printed with vintage floral leather wallpaper motifs, is pure opulence. Worn with a corseted body and matching Tabis, it radiates the aura of a Renaissance painting reanimated for the modern age—one can almost hear the whispered intrigue of Medici salons.
Then comes Look 38—otherworldly, erotic, unforgettable. A floor-length, skin-toned jersey gown with a built-in corset that seems to melt into the body, its draped sleeves cascading into the skirt with hypnotic fluidity. The model's face is veiled, a towering necklace of vintage emerald costume jewels coiling around her throat like some medieval relic. It's Saint Teresa in Ecstasy meets Helmut Newton—divine, provocative, and utterly Margiela.
Backstage after the show, Yanko's eyes are still wide with wonder. 'Those pieces are for tomorrow,' she breathes. 'The yellow one—the volume, the texture—it was divine. Honestly, some of those looks were...orgasmic.' She giggles, then adds: 'I don't know how this moment will manifest in my own work yet, but I'll be dreaming about it for a long time.'
As we step out into the Paris night, it's clear that Yanko, much like the maison itself, understands that couture isn't merely about fantasy. It's about rebellion, rarity, and the eternal seduction of craft—one exquisite stitch, one sculpted silhouette at a time.
'I mean…the gloves, the bag—what else do you really need?'
'It's giving Miami meets Paris, with just a hint of trouble.'
'This is my version of stepping out for the night—fully suited in Margiela.'
'Sometimes I get ready just to watch myself transform—it's part of the art.'
'Why not turn the closet into a stage? It's couture, after all.'
'Even when I'm sitting still, it's all part of the performance.'
'The gloves, the glasses…they always set the tone before I step out.'
'This bag has seen some things. Tonight, it's coming with me.'