Milano Centrale is built for spectacle, whether it wants to be or not. All vaulted ceilings, cold stone and strangers performing versions of themselves under arrival boards, it was exactly the kind of venue MM6 Maison Margiela needed for its Autumn/Winter 2026 show. The brand has always been interested in ordinary life made slightly strange, and a train station is where ordinary life goes to get weird on its own.
The whole thing carried a strong 90s undercurrent. That particular brand of cool that didn’t try too hard, that found something interesting in a zip-up fleece or a checked shirt, that trusted reduction over decoration. Clothes that look like things you already own, twisted just enough to feel like they don’t quite belong to you.
Models moved through the space, shielded behind MM6’s signature concealing sunglasses, now updated in a new, rounded form and available in a rainbow of hues. Anonymous in the way that only draws more attention, a parade of archetypes that could be anyone and no one.
On paper, a completely straightforward wardrobe: checked shirts, jean jackets, blazers, full skirts, tracksuit tops, ski jumpers, zip-up fleeces, long-johns, boots, pumps. But MM6 kept pulling at the threads. Ribbed jersey backs, narrowed shirts, trench coats, and jackets into clean vertical lines. Linings pulled loose, spilling from collars. Hems rolled up and held with metal snaps. Exposed lining scissored directly into pieces. 80s proportions, equestrian details, frilly petticoats worn with plaid shirts and cowl-neck sweaters. Nothing is protected from an unlikely pairing, which is where the collection found its personality.
Accessories kept the same energy. Bauletto bags were carried as if someone actually needed to get somewhere. Earrings still fastened to their retail selling kits, worn directly on the ear. Rings missing their stones. Things found, repurposed, slightly incomplete in a way that read as more interesting than finished.
Arrivals and departures. MM6 keeps making ordinary clothes feel like a discovery.
