The air in Paris this January carried a specific, biting chill that seemed to settle deep into the stone of the city. Inside the venue for the Hermès Fall 2026 menswear show, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of intensity. It was the weight of thirty-seven years of consistency. The crowd was a collection of the fashion world’s most enduring figures, all gathered to witness the final bow of Véronique Nichanian. She has been the steady hand at the helm of the house’s masculine universe since 1988. In an industry that consumes creative directors with the hunger of a furnace, her tenure was not just an anomaly. It was a miracle of quiet persistence.

She moved through the backstage area with the same simmering energy that has defined her career. At seventy-one, Nichanian possesses a vitality that mocks the very concept of retirement. She famously cast her glasses to the floor in a gesture of playful defiance when discussing the indignities of aging. She is a woman who has spent nearly four decades defining what it means to be an Hermès man. It is a definition rooted in "simple lines" and "honesty." There were no gimmicks here. There was only the relentless pursuit of perfection in a world that increasingly settles for the temporary.

The collection itself was a masterclass in what she calls luxury muscle. It was a joyous au revoir that refused to sink into the swamp of nostalgia. Instead of a greatest hits parade, she delivered a vision inspired by the retro-aviator aesthetic of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Models emerged in shearling bombers and caps with earflaps that felt both historic and intensely modern. The textures were almost tactile even from the back row. There were military-style onesies crafted from leather and that signature glassy crocodile. These were clothes for a man who owns his own plane but still knows how to fix the engine.

The colors were a sophisticated dialogue between the earth and the sky. Shearlings were lined with fur the color of pink grapefruit. Other pieces were finished in an icy, clinical white. Boxy overnight bags in olive and sky blue swung from the hands of models who moved with a purposeful gait. It was a reminder that under Nichanian, Hermès was never about the trend. It was about the object.

Nichanian has always been straight to the point. She once remarked that she never changes her mind once a decision is made. This certainty is visible in every stitch of the Fall 2026 collection. She resisted the acceleration of the digital age for as long as possible. She spoke candidly about the fatigue of screens and the way the industry now demands a pace that borders on the frantic. When her team showed her a reference they thought was new, she pointed out that she had already done it at Cerruti in 1988. It was a sign that the circle had closed.

Her father was an Armenian immigrant who ran an industrial bakery. He was a man who appreciated the weight of a crystal glass and the drape of a well-made coat. He was not a dandy, but he was elegant. That distinction is the cornerstone of the Nichanian era. She designed for men who wanted to look good without looking like they were trying.

The front row was a testament to the lives she touched during her nearly four-decade run. Sir Paul Smith sat among the guests, having traveled to Paris specifically to say goodbye to a friend he has known since her first day at the house. He spoke of her steadiness and her staying power. It is a rarity to find such genuine affection in a room usually filled with icy professional courtesy. As the final looks crossed the floor, a video tribute began to play. It showed clips of Nichanian taking her bows across the decades. The hair changed and the silhouettes evolved, but the smile remained the same.

She is not disappearing entirely. While she is stepping away from the grueling demands of ready-to-wear, she will remain a consultant for the brand’s leather goods and scarves. She wants the time to travel to Japan and South Africa without the ticking clock of a looming runway show. She wants to be in the air. She finds a particular kind of calm in the ten-hour silence of a long-haul flight. It is perhaps the only place where the world cannot reach her.

The baton now passes to Grace Wales Bonner. It is a poetic choice. Like Nichanian before her, Wales Bonner is a woman designing specifically for men. She is a young, Black designer who brings a different cultural lens to the storied French house. Nichanian seems genuinely thrilled by the appointment. She noted that it is time for a new page to be written in the book she spent thirty-seven years authoring.

The Legacy of the Long View

The departure of Véronique Nichanian marks the true end of an era in fashion. We are moving away from the time when a designer could build a vision over decades with the unwavering support of a family-owned house. Most creative directors today are lucky to survive three years. Nichanian survived tenures, economic collapses, and the total digital transformation of the globe. She leaves behind a multi-billion euro menswear universe that she built from the ground up. As she walked out for her final bow, there were no tears, only a sense of profound accomplishment. She had done the work. She had stayed true to the lines. Like Piaf, she truly regrets nothing.

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