There’s a giddiness in the air on the last day of Paris Fashion Week, as editors contemplate returning to normal life after almost a month of press dinners, parties and politics around seat allocations. Blissfully unaware of the industry’s collective eye baggage and only concerned about her own (non-existent) dark circles is Saoirse Ronan, who Eurostar-ed her way to Paris just for the Louis Vuitton show.
A regular on Nicolas Ghesquière’s front rows since she became an ambassador for the house in January 2024, the shows present an opportunity to catch up with “the girls” (“whenever I’m near Jennifer Connelly, that’s nice”), raid Merci for knitwear, and hit Musée Rodin for a break from her usual cultural programming (The Diplomat on screen; The Guardian’s Black Box pod in her headphones.)
“I actually texted Lily [Collins] before I came and asked, ‘Where should I go?’ Saoirse in Paris is the new Netflix series,” she quips, while holed up in The Ritz in hair and make-up before heading to the Louvre for Ghesquière’s “ergonomic”-themed spring 2027 presentation. Deliciously down to earth, conversation flits from concealer (Nars’s Creamy Radiant version to hide that under-eye pigmentation passed down from her mam) to dog poo bags (Ronan’s other only handbag essential) to her tendency to steal husband Jack Lowden’s clothes (it doesn’t matter, because he takes her baseball caps). Danielle Goldberg (incidentally also a delight while flitting around the suite in louche black separates that could be Marais vintage finds, but are most likely from The Row) affectionately laughs when Saoirse offers up her style mantra as “denim, knitwear and earthy.”
