MIU MIU FALL WINTER 2026 巴黎

MIU MIU（缪缪）｜Miu Miu Fall-Winter 2026 女装秀（巴黎时装周）｜2026-03-10｜巴黎

秀场在巴黎耶纳宫。建筑本身是低矮而宽大的：粗大的方形石柱排成阵列，顶上是被压低的混凝土梁板，空间的净高比想象中低，人一进去，视线先被压下来。

地面被换成了森林。苔藓、草皮、蕨类与落叶铺满整个大厅，只留出一条弯曲的通道；苔藓的厚度不均，边缘堆着枯叶与细枝，几丛白色小花从草里探出来。柱脚被苔藓埋住，柱身往上则包着一层深色印花布，上面是蕨叶、蘑菇、蝴蝶与小花，像把林下植被印在了柱子上。

墙是另一层。四壁挂满深红色的壁纸，纸上是细密的金色小花，重复得很密；在暖光下，红墙往后退，印花布往前压，中间的苔藓地被夹在两种图案之间。顶部保持黑暗，梁底只装了几道窄光束的轨道灯，光斑落在草面与衣服上，不做环境照明。

看台是长条凳，深棕色，绒面，细黑腿，沿对角斜排，凳与凳之间留出通道；人坐下之后，膝盖几乎碰到前面的苔藓。大厅尽头是一段宽阔的石阶与金属栏杆，模特从台阶上下来，穿过草地，再折回柱阵之间。

这套布景改写了身体的尺度：低矮的天花、贴地的植被、贴身的衣服，三者在同一个高度上；模特走过时，鞋陷进苔藓，裙摆扫过草叶，衣服的下摆因此有了重量。气味是湿土与绿叶的味道，声音被苔藓吸掉一部分，人声显得远。

传播上，森林是一个直白的符号：红墙、黑柱、苔藓地，三个层次在任何一张图里都能立刻读出室内长出了一片林子。系列讲的身体与亲密感，被这套布景翻译成可看的尺度关系——人变小，环境变大。对案例库来说，这是一个用材质改变空间的样本：不建结构，只换地面、包柱、换墙纸，就把一座石造宫殿改成了林地。

The show was staged inside the Palais d'Iéna in Paris. The building is low and wide: massive square stone columns in rows, a pressed-down concrete ceiling above them, a clear height lower than one expects. Entering, the first effect is on the eyes, which have to drop.

The floor was replaced by a forest. Moss, turf, ferns and fallen leaves covered the hall, leaving only a curved path; the moss varied in depth, dead leaves and twigs piled at the edges, and a few white flowers pushed up through the green. The bases of the columns disappeared into the moss, while their shafts were wrapped in a dark printed fabric carrying ferns, mushrooms, butterflies and small flowers, as if the undergrowth had been printed onto the stone.

The walls were the second layer. They were hung with deep crimson paper carrying a dense small gold flower, repeated until it read as texture. Under warm light the red receded and the printed fabric came forward, with the moss floor caught between two patterns. The ceiling was kept dark, and the only light came from a few narrow-beam tracks, pools of it falling on moss and on clothes, not on the room.

Seating was long benches, dark brown and fuzzy, on thin black legs, set on the diagonal with aisles between them; once seated, a guest's knees almost touched the moss ahead. At the far end a wide stone stair with a metal balustrade came down into the hall, and the models entered from it, crossed the grass and turned back between the columns.

The set enlarged the body by lowering everything else. A low ceiling, ground-level vegetation and close-cut clothes all sat at the same height, so a model walking through made the space read as bigger than it is. Shoes sank into the moss, hems brushed the grass, and the clothes acquired a weight they would not have had on a hard floor. The smell was wet earth and green leaves; the moss absorbed part of the sound, so voices carried oddly and the room felt further away than it was.

The diagonal arrangement of the benches did the work of a runway plan without building one. Because the rows sat at an angle, no guest had a straight view down the aisle; each saw the models cross the field of vision and then pass behind a column. The wrapped columns became a series of framing devices, so a walk the length of the hall broke into a dozen separate pictures.

The clothes were close to the body, in sheer layers, fur and leather, and the set made them read as garments for a place rather than for a catwalk: hems caught on the moss, boots sank, and the models moved more slowly than the size of the hall would suggest. That slowness is a staging decision, and it is what the photographs carry.

For communication, the forest is a legible symbol: red wall, black column, green floor. Those three layers can be read in a single frame, which is what a set needs if it is to travel on social platforms without explanation. The collection's talk of the body and intimacy was translated into a visible proportion, the person smaller, the environment larger. For a case library it is a sample of changing a space with material rather than structure: new floor, wrapped columns, new paper, and a stone palace becomes woodland.

Source: public information published by Bureau Betak.

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