This was my first visit to the Louvre - just as it had been my first time at Villa Borghese in Rome. And in both places, it wasn’t what I expected to see that stayed with me, but what I hadn’t imagined I would feel.

Since I was a child, I’ve been drawn to beauty - not necessarily as an 'art lover,' but the way some people are drawn to warmth or music. What captivates me most isn’t the object itself, but the sensation it leaves behind. A true masterpiece doesn’t demand anything. It just finds you. Goosebumps, tears, a sudden shortness of breath. Sometimes, it feels like my heart sees before my eyes do. That, to me, is real art.

We came to the Louvre not for the paintings or sculptures. We came to feel something. I arrived with a quiet hope - to be moved again, as I once was.

What touched me most was how the grandeur of the Louvre made the dresses feel even more alive. They didn’t disappear in the space - they filled it. At the same time, the presence of these dresses gave a new depth to the palace itself. History and fashion seemed to reflect each other, letting each other breathe. It was as if they belonged together, each enhancing the other in quiet, powerful ways.

I couldn’t help but think of Alaïa. The memory of his exhibition at Villa Borghese still lives in me. It touched something deep. I wasn’t sure anything could reach that same depth, but I walked into the Louvre with that memory in my heart - and the hope to feel something just as real.

The Louvre Couture exhibition doesn’t follow a timeline. It opens like a secret and follows a feeling. One dress. Then another. Then a hundred more. Each with its own rhythm, its own dream. They made me pause. Breathe differently. Stand still without knowing why.

At some point, I realised I was walking more slowly. Not out of politeness - but because something in me was adjusting to the rhythm of this fairytale.

Just walk through them and feel them as I did

When beauty becomes art, Louvre Couture, Paris 2025

Alaïa & Mugler

A few days later, we visited the Alaïa Foundation, where two lifelong friends were speaking to each other through dresses.

Azzedine Alaïa designed like a sculptor - his fabric followed the body, not the trend. His friend, Thierry Mugler, imagined women as gods - dramatic and divine. This exhibition brought them together, side by side - not in competition, but in dialogue. It felt like more than fashion. It was an altar to the body.

Here, in his own atelier, it felt more intimate.

I kept thinking of Rome. Of that moment in Villa Borghese, when Alaïa’s work held me so completely I forgot to breathe. That experience still lives in me. I’ll write about it in its own space - but for now, I want to share a few glimpses from the Alaïa Foundation.

There are no labels here. Just let your eyes explore. Feel the quiet conversation between two masters. See if you can sense which pieces are Alaïa’s and which are Mugler’s. Let your body respond.