In space, no one can hear you scream.
That sentence is the starting point of the FW26 collection.
As a child, I wasn’t allowed to watch Alien. I could only hear it.
The music. The screams. The sounds drifting from the top of the staircase.
That’s where the terror was born — sonic, invisible, obsessive.
I had nightmares about it for years.
As a teenager, when I finally discovered the saga — Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s film first — the shock was aesthetic.
Giger’s universe.
Jean Paul Gaultier’s costumes.
A horror thriller, crossed with a strangely unsettling sensuality.
Alien is an endless saga, with heroines who move through time, cloned, hunted, desirable, autonomous, always in resistance to the system.
I have always identified with them — a teenage geek’s fantasy.
FW26.27 explores this constant tension between fear and desire, anxiety and sensuality, violence and eroticism.
A crew lost in space.
An acid-soaked closed setting.
Bodies awakened after years of hypersleep.
Sex as danger.
The shower as a trap.
Pleasure as a threat.
Hairstyling was the starting point of the collection: how to embody the facehugger without ever slipping into costume — hair devouring the face.
The parasite.
The mask.
Anonymity as an amplifier of desire.
The mouth, thighs, collarbones, bare backs, transparency.
The Xenomorph fascinates: somewhere between human, insect, and feline — a slender, tortuous, sensual creature.
Silhouettes stretch out: narrow tailoring, long sleeves, slightly flared trousers.
Elongated coats with LGN’s powerful shoulders.
The illusion of an extended body.
Vintage military Bunny Boots impose a massive, almost comical foot.
The heroine’s iconic look — cropped tank top, mini brief — dialogues with LGN signatures.
A tension between elongated silhouettes and cocooned forms.
The belly — a site of emotion and birth — is highlighted with delicacy:
draped tuxedos, pleated slits on silk jersey T-shirts, faces seeming to emerge from tops or bodysuits, trapped inside lingerie jerseys, like tights.
As always at LGN, skin becomes graphic.
A zone of desire.
A zone of power.
The palette is deceptively neutral: warm and cold greys, putty ecru, muted tones, almost organic.
Materials détourne the archetypes of the masculine wardrobe:
grey flannel mixed with latex, trompe-l’œil technical cottons, jerseys worn like denim, putty and ecru woolens, viscous, glossy surfaces evoking skin, leather, the living.
FW26 also speaks about the fear of sex — its forbidden, dangerous, mysterious nature — the fear of childbirth, the mystery of pleasure.
That these themes gave birth to a horror film says everything about their ambivalence.
The partnership with OnlyFans and the launch of LGN OF come naturally with this collection.
Pushing further into territories dear to the brand:
sensuality, fetishism, fantasy, the eroticism of all bodies.
Private does not mean pornographic.
Private means trust. Intimacy.
An inclusive circle for exclusive subjects.
