PARIS FASHION WEEK, YOU REALLY SHOWED YOUR ASS

• Fashion

Oct 5, 2026 @ 12:18 am By Perry Johnson

There are approximately one million images produced during Fashion Week, and apparently I am expected to process all of them like a stable person.

Runway.
Front row.
Street style.
Backstage.
Someone in Paris wearing archival sunglasses indoors before noon.

And every season, we’re supposed to pretend this is all very elegant and respond with something like, “the collection explored tension, femininity, and form.”

Sure.

Meanwhile, Rihanna is replying to EJ Johnson in the comments, Tate McRae is selling me a fantasy in fragrance form, the VMAs are somehow still on life support, Olivia Colman has joined the runway circuit, and Paris Fashion Week has once again produced several moments that made me stop, point at my screen, and say: be serious.

So no, this is not a comprehensive review.

This is a highly selective breakdown of the things that caught my attention, held me hostage, or made me ask questions nobody formally requested.

Welcome back to NOT THAT SERIOUS.

Let’s discuss.

PARIS FASHION WEEK, YOU REALLY SHOWED YOUR ASS

Highlights from YSL. Image source: Getty

First of all, Paris.

Relax.

Fashion Week arrived with enough shows, presentations, parties, celebrity appearances and black cars idling outside hotels to alter the atmosphere.

And I’m not reviewing all of it.

I have a job.

Details at Dries Van Noten. Obsessed with these heels!

What I will say is that Fashion Week is at its best when something happens that temporarily breaks through the endless stream of clothes.

Not necessarily because it’s the “best look.”

Because it makes you stop.

Rick Owens putting on another actual show?

Stop.

Olivia Colman walking Miu Miu?

Stop.

Rihanna arriving?

Obviously stop.

Fashion is supposed to make us feel something.

Even if the feeling is:

Girl, what the hell is that?

THE ROW ATE THIS SEASON

The Row. Image source: Getty

RIHANNA ARRIVED WHEN RIHANNA ARRIVED

Rihanna attends the Christian Dior Womenswear Spring/Summer 2027 show during Paris Fashion Week on Sept. 29, 2026. Arnold Jerocki/Getty

One of my favorite things about Fashion Week has almost nothing to do with the clothes.

It’s watching the hierarchy of celebrity reveal itself in real time.

Because there is being late.

And then there is being Rihanna late. (EJ Johnson…please rethink before you ever speak on Rih)

LMAO. Sorry I HAD to add this in.

At a certain level of fame, you are no longer late.

The schedule was simply incorrect.

There are levels.

Five minutes late is rude.

Twenty minutes late is annoying.

A major fashion house waiting for you?

That’s an appointment time.

And honestly, Rihanna continues to be one of the few celebrities who can arrive at Fashion Week and make the arrival itself feel like part of the show.

The outfit matters.

The beauty matters.

The walk from the car matters.

The sunglasses somehow matter.

She can spend twelve seconds walking into a building and suddenly everybody else’s content from that afternoon has been demoted.

I support women’s rights.

But more importantly, I support women’s wrong arrival times.

RICK OWENS REMEMBERED THE SECOND WORD IN “FASHION SHOW”

Thank you.

Because sometimes Fashion Week becomes Fashion Walk.

Model walks out.

Model walks back.

Everybody claps.

Car arrives.

Next.

Rick Owens continues to understand that if hundreds of people are physically coming somewhere to watch clothing appear in person, maybe something should happen that cannot be fully communicated through a JPEG.

Spectacle.

Scale.

Atmosphere.

A little drama.

A reason to be there.

We live in an era where I can see every single runway look approximately six seconds after it happens.

If you’re asking people to cross Paris, sit somewhere for an hour and pretend they aren’t checking their phones, give them something the Instagram carousel cannot.

Fashion should occasionally inconvenience us emotionally.

OLIVIA COLMAN IS A MIU MIU MODEL NOW. SURE!

Photo: Getty Images

This is why Miu Miu gets away with things.

Olivia Colman walking a Miu Miu runway should probably feel random.

Instead, somehow, it makes complete sense.

And I’m increasingly tired of celebrity casting that screams:

FAMOUS PERSON ALERT 🚨

The best casting has a little confusion to it.

You look twice.

You wonder whether you saw correctly.

You send the screenshot to somebody.

That’s fun.

Colman walking with this completely unfazed energy makes the entire thing better.

Fashion keeps talking about authenticity.

There she is.

Walking.

Probably wondering when lunch is.

TATE McRAE HAS ENTERED THE PERFUME DEPARTMENT

Now this interests me. Isn’t the bottle so cute?

Tate McRae has entered the celebrity fragrance business.

And I’m glad.

Because somewhere along the way, celebrities apparently decided perfume was beneath them and everybody needed to start a tequila company.

Why?

Give me fragrance.

Britney had Fantasy.

Paris had Paris Hilton.

J.Lo had Glow.

Elizabeth Taylor practically built the infrastructure.

Celebrity perfume used to be part of pop stardom.

You had an album.

A tour.

A perfume.

Maybe a questionable clothing line.

Civilization worked.

What I like about Tate entering this space is that it also feels connected to something larger happening with her career.

She isn’t just making music anymore.

She’s building Tate.

Fashion.

Beauty.

Photography.

Character.

A visual world.

That’s when pop stars become really interesting.

The music remains the center, but suddenly there are rooms around it.

And fragrance makes sense because scent is completely tied to identity.

You smell something once and suddenly you’re seventeen again standing in somebody’s bedroom.

That’s powerful.

Also, thank God she didn’t just put her name on a bottle, hold it next to her face and call it a campaign.

The pop girls smell again.

Nature is healing.

DO WE REALLY NEED THE VMAS ANYMORE?

I had my answer prepared.

No.

Thank you for asking.

Except every year the VMAs happen and every year we somehow end up discussing them.

Which means maybe I need to revise the question.

It’s not:

Do people still watch the VMAs?

Clearly some of us do.

The better question is:

What are the VMAs for now?

There was a time when the show felt mildly dangerous.

Britney had a snake.

Someone arrived drunk.

Somebody interrupted somebody.

Lady Gaga arrived as dinner. Think pre-social media VMAs. Either you were there or saw it live on TV. No scripts baby.

You didn’t necessarily know what was about to happen.

Now we know almost everything while it’s happening.

We see the arrival clip.

Then Getty.

Then the stylist posts the fitting.

Then somebody uploads the performance from the audience.

Then TikTok gives you twelve angles.

Then the celebrity posts a carousel before you have even gone to bed.

The internet ate the VMAs’ original job.

Music videos aren’t primarily discovered through MTV anymore.

Pop-cultural moments don’t wait for television.

And yet—

Maybe that’s precisely why something like the VMAs still matters.

Having millions of people watch the same ridiculous thing at approximately the same time has become strangely rare.

So perhaps the VMAs aren’t dead.

Maybe they just need to stop trying to recreate the old VMAs.

I don’t need another reminder that 2001 was fun.

I was there. A young boy hogging the family TV for two hours on a school night…sorry Mom and Dad.

Show me why 2026 is fun.

SO WHAT DID WE LEARN?

Paris Fashion Week isn’t even finished occupying space in my head and I already need a nap.

Rihanna has her own timezone.

Rick Owens still understands spectacle.

Olivia Colman is apparently available for runway bookings.

Tate McRae smells expensive now.

The VMAs are inconveniently alive.

Fashion would like us to read.

And somewhere in Paris, somebody is currently wearing sunglasses indoors while saying the word “archive.”

Nature is healing.

I’m not asking October for much.

Good clothes.

Good music.

People making things because they actually have something to say.

Maybe one celebrity product I don’t immediately resent.

And fewer events requiring me to understand where somebody is sitting.

That’s it.

September was loud enough.

October, be good to me.

Please.

I have articles due.

About The Author: Perry Johnson

Perrin Johnson is a fashion and culture editor covering style, beauty, pop culture, and whatever he’s currently overthinking. He is also the voice behind NOT THAT SERIOUS, because unfortunately, he noticed something. Contact Perrin at editsbyperry@gmail.com or follow @editsbyperry