Meet Solène Lescouët, the most rock'n'roll designer of the Parisian fashion scene

In the universe of Solène Lescouët, clothing does not merely dress: it embodies, suggests, and tells a story. A graduate of the Chardon-Savard workshop in Paris, trained at Chanel and Lanvin, the designer chose to leave the well-trodden paths of traditional luxury to create her own textile language. Deeply inspired from an early age by cinema—especially Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula—she imagines a dramatic, inhabited fashion where each silhouette becomes a fictional character. Meet a designer for whom clothing is less an adornment than a manifesto.

Before fashion, Solène Lescouët’s first passions were for cinema. She claims that the seventh art is her “first great aesthetic emotion.” “At a very young age, Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula moved me. It’s a work where every detail tells something, and that’s exactly what I try to do in my collections,” she continues. More specifically, she is touched by gothic cinema, because it often portrays “metamorphoses, marginal figures, a certain form of strange beauty”—all elements that are widely celebrated in her work. She admits to loving “strong contrasts, black romanticism, silhouettes that evoke both fantasy and fear.” A strong aesthetic, certainly, but above all a powerful emotional language.

From cinema to stage, it’s a small step for this designer who conceives each silhouette as a fictional character. “Stage costumes allow me to go even further in expression because we’re in performance, in assumed fiction. What interests me in costume is that it’s not just about dressing a body, but about translating an identity, an intention, an emotion.” She does not see her clothes as mere functional objects but as fragments of a story, personal manifestos. “Wearing one of my garments is not just getting dressed, it’s making a statement, stepping into a posture, a state of being.” A sort of “textile poetry,” Solène Lescouët’s fashion injects a good dose of drama into the everyday with “XXL shoulders, exaggerated pleats, theatrical accessories.” For smaller budgets, the designer has recently developed choker-collars—a variation of her signature piece—customizable with leftover fabrics from her Paris studio. This creates a direct link with her customers, erasing the traditional distance between designers and the world.

From runway to street, from backstage to stage, from ritual to the triviality of daily life, Solène Lescouët’s clothing lives in an in-between space she intentionally staged for her latest collection presentation, Crimson Lovers, a direct homage to the film Dracula that so inspired her. By blending the models into the crowd, the designer decided to blur boundaries, plunging her audience into a collective question: “When does the performance begin? Who is watching whom?” In a split second—an adjustment of lighting, a change of rhythm—the models find themselves on an improvised catwalk, spontaneously formed as the crowd parts. Curious passersby gather at the window to glimpse what is usually reserved for a select audience. With this show, the designer breaks another barrier between fashion and the rest of the world. In doing so, she creates a unifying show. This freedom is also reflected in the brand’s genderless approach, which seeks above all to “dress attitudes”. For the designer, “fashion binarity is outdated today, especially when you understand how historically constructed norms were designed to control and limit individual expression.” She advocates an inclusive approach: “letting people freely claim a piece—whether it’s an enormous ruff, a structured skirt, or an embroidered jacket. Opening a space where sensitivity, strength, softness, and provocation can coexist, regardless of gender—or lack thereof—of the person wearing it.” A deeply political message at a time when fashion weeks still separate so-called men’s and women’s collections.

While clothing is still mostly categorized by gender, brands are increasingly drawing from the wardrobes of historically marginalized figures. A democratization that the designer welcomes—while warning against its possible pitfalls: “The fact that aesthetics once marginalized are now embraced by the mainstream shows a collective desire to re-enchant reality, to challenge norms, to play with identities. It’s encouraging because it reflects openness, a desire for visual freedom. But we must stay alert. When an aesthetic long carried by marginalized communities becomes trendy, there’s always a risk of erasure or appropriation. The circus is also the story of bodies on the fringe, sublime monsters, lives that defy norms.” Like many women before her, Solène Lescouët chose the path of independence by founding her eponymous brand. A path strewn with obstacles, where sometimes one must “do twice as much to be taken seriously.” “I made a place for myself simply because it wasn’t offered to me. Like many women, I quickly realized that artistic director positions were mostly held by men. So instead of waiting for recognition that never came, I decided to start my own brand. It’s a way of reclaiming my narrative, of existing without having to fit into a male or institutional expectation,” she asserts.

It’s in the Paris City workshops that all of Solène’s creativity comes alive. This space, more than a simple workspace, is her own: defined, at once closed and open to the world. A true laboratory where she shapes her silhouettes. Proof, if needed, that women need—just as Virginia Woolf theorized last century—a room of their own: “I’ve been here since September 2024. I’ve never worked as much as I have in the past six months.” In turn, she hopes her journey will “pave the way for other women who want to free and assert themselves fully.” Borrowing from costume, cinema, and theater, Solène Lescouët restores mystery and narrative power to clothing. Her brand, both manifesto and playground, shakes up aesthetic and social norms. It offers a space for projection, emotion, and affirmation for those who don’t fit into any box.