A cast steps forward, enigmatic and electrifying, as Duran Lantink unveils his second collection for Jean Paul Gaultier Autumn/Winter 2026/27. They arrive not as mere models, but as characters—each one charged with possibility, each one suspended between identities. A detective, a cowboy, a raver, a steampunk vision, a banker in a sharply tailored coat with sloping shoulders. A femme fatale, perhaps just risen from bed, her allure both effortless and deliberate. Together, they form a world where elegance collides with disruption, and where tailoring and sportswear exist in a restless, compelling harmony.
The story begins with a personal relic: a vintage mesh T-shirt cherished by Lantink, emblazoned with the face of Marlene Dietrich. Dietrich—legendary, enigmatic—embodied contradiction. As Jean Cocteau once quipped, “Her name starts with a caress and ends with a whip.” She was sweetness and dominance, sensuality and grace intertwined. The ultimate hybrid. It is precisely this duality that resonates within the House of Gaultier, where opposites do not merely coexist—they amplify one another.
Within this universe, boundaries dissolve. Feminine and masculine blur into a seamless dialogue; garments turn inside out; vintage merges with the new; underwear boldly becomes outerwear; the technical meets the tailored. The presence of Dietrich on Lantink’s moodboard acts as a portal, ushering in a multitude of personas. She herself reappears throughout the collection—immortalized once more, cigarette in hand, on a dress that feels as much like a statement as it does a memory. It is an invitation: let’s play.
That spirit of play is deeply rooted in both heritage and reinvention. While exploring the archives, Lantink was struck by the absence of certain key pieces—gaps that seemed to call out for reinterpretation. Yet this absence aligns seamlessly with the ethos of Monsieur Gaultier, who never hesitated to revisit and reshape his past creations. Garments, like actors, were always ready for a new role—cut apart, reassembled, reborn.
For Lantink, this philosophy is instinctive. For years, his creative process has revolved around transformation: garments sourced from past designer collections, vintage treasures, even his own wardrobe, all dismantled and reimagined into something entirely new. In his world, nothing is untouchable. Creation demands risk, and everything is subject to change. “There were times when I had no clothes left to wear,” he recalls—a testament to a practice where reinvention consumes even the personal.
This transformative energy pulses through every look. A pinstripe suit from the Haute Couture Spring/Summer 2016 collection Le Palace becomes the foundation for sculptural tailoring experiments, its gathered waist reinterpreted into bold, architectural forms. A cropped bomber jacket—first seen in 1985, revisited in 1988 and 2002—returns with remarkable fidelity, a thread connecting past and present. Fair Isle knits from Autumn/Winter 1990 are reborn as body-hugging base layers, their heritage reframed against the body.
Elsewhere, the unexpected takes center stage. Rubber car tires are reimagined as accessories, injecting an industrial edge into the collection’s narrative. A wooden puppet evokes Les Marionnettes from Autumn/Winter 2004, a poetic nod to the house’s theatrical past. Pleated jersey dresses introduce an extraordinary bounce, animating the silhouette with movement and vitality. Each piece becomes a character in its own right, contributing to a broader, ever-evolving story.
Conversations between Monsieur Gaultier and Lantink often drift toward cinema, a shared fascination that underscores the collection’s narrative depth. They also reflect on the ambitions of Futurism—a movement that sought to reshape perception and form. Gaultier’s early years as assistant to Pierre Cardin, fashion’s great Futurist, remain a vital influence. Cardin’s sculptural vision, his fearless approach to redefining the body, echoes in Lantink’s own exploration of shape and structure. Nothing was too strange, too radical—only possibilities waiting to be realized.
One anecdote lingers, almost like a whispered philosophy. Gaultier recalls finding a jacket at a flea market, turning it inside out, and discovering that he preferred the lining to the exterior. It is a simple gesture, yet profoundly emblematic: beauty lies in perspective, in the willingness to see differently.
Ultimately, this collection is not just about clothing—it is about freedom. The freedom to live, to work, to love, to design, to dress. A freedom that demands curiosity, courage, and above all, a relentless desire to play. In Lantink’s hands, the legacy of Jean Paul Gaultier is not preserved in stillness, but propelled forward through transformation, where every garment, every character, and every idea remains in motion.
