For the last five years, I’ve found my cure for the post-winter-holiday lull: a trip to Paris! Thanks to Paris Design Week, January has become my annual pilgrimage to my favorite city, where I can soak up the latest in high-end design, while immersing myself in the very best of French heritage and beauty. Thousands of interior designers and members of the trade flock to the French capital for Maison Objet (a showcase of furnishings and decorative objects primarily held at a convention center northeast of Paris) and Paris Déco Off (a citywide event where the public can step into showrooms and countless storied locations to view new wallcovering and textile collections).
If you’re passionate about design, art, fashion, and history in equal measure, I’d argue there’s no better time to visit Paris. Especially if, like myself, you’re a Francophile who loves the romance of it all—and nothing thrills you more than being a fly on the wall as the doors to the most stunning, storied venues and hôtels particuliers miraculously open. This year, I found myself at a 1920s pagoda where Lelièvre’s latest collections shone amid the Chinese-lacquered interior; at L’Arrosoir, Paris’s oldest flower shop, where Little Greene launched garden-themed wallpapers; and at Galerie Kraemer, one of the oldest family-owned art galleries in France, where the backdrop for an antique soirée (complete with baroque court dancers) was hundreds of museum-quality furnishings hailing from legendary collectors ranging from Karl Lagerfeld to Jayne Wrightsman.
My perch for 2026 Paris Design Week was the Hotel Panache, a boutique hotel near the bustling Grands Boulevards, which offers convenience, style (think Fornasetti wallpaper and Diptyque bath products), and reasonable prices even during Paris’s busiest weeks. After all, January means it’s des soldes—France’s biannual sale season—and I needed every penny I could to save on my favorite French brands, among them Tressé, Maison Guillemette, and Jonak. Plus, I never know what will catch my eye during my weekend jaunt to the flea market.
Day 1: 400 Years of French Culture, From a Countryside Chateau to Cutting-Edge Contemporary Art
My week began on January 13, when I joined a group of designers and journalists to visit Château des Joncherets, a 1620 castle originally designed by Versailles landscape architect André Le Nôtre, about an hour-and-a-half drive west of Paris. A handful of contemporary designers had reimagined the first floor of the chateau, which is currently under major renovation. While we enjoyed local wine and bites, I could only imagine how delectable future fare will taste once the chateau’s vegetable garden is revived at the hands of farm-to-table visionary chef Alice Waters, who will also plant a branch of her Edible Schoolyard on site.
That evening, I returned to Paris just in time to take advantage of the newly reopened Fondation Cartier’s late-night hours. Having had the fortune to study abroad in and visit Paris many times, I always prioritize temporary shows and openings. While the institution exhibits some of the greatest contemporary art, I was especially interested in Jean Nouvel’s architectural transformation of the fondation’s cavernous halls, which once housed the Grands Magasins du Louvre, a 19th-century department store.
Day 2: Rive Droite Essentials, Art Deco Galore, and Antique Soirées
The following morning, I walked to Rue du Mail, one of Déco Off’s buzziest patterned-lantern-lined streets, for a duo of my personal must-sees: Sahco and Samuel Sons. Since leading Scandinavian textile purveyor Kvadrat acquired Sahco in 2018, the German fabric house has developed one of the most interesting offerings on the market, largely thanks to creative director Bengt Thornefors. Having co-founded cult-favorite Swedish bed linen brand Magniberg and worked extensively in fashion design for companies like Saint Laurent and Acne Studios, Thornefors not only produces some of the most distinctive color combinations, but his fabrics work equally well across upholstery and clothing. Sahco’s presentations usually nod to Thornefors’s fashion background, whether it’s displaying fabrics as garment bags or on cowboy boots.
A few doors down, I stopped at Samuel Sons, a family-owned passementerie company headquartered in NYC. Their tassels, braids, borders, and fringe have become ubiquitous in projects by the world’s top designers, many of whom they partner with for collections. This year, they’ve launched the Romaunt collection with one of my favorites, Martin Brudnizki, who took inspiration from the romanticism and artistry of the Pre-Raphaelites.
Not far from Samuel Sons is the studio of arguably the godfather of French textiles, wallpapers, and rugs, Pierre Frey. After walking through the Little Tokyo neighborhood (my favorite for treats, such as the matcha- and red bean-filled dorayaki from Tomo—thank me later), I viewed the company’s three new collections. Perhaps the thing that most struck me as I became more entrenched in the design world is just how vast new collections are. Whereas in fashion, there could be anywhere between 20 to 100 looks, design brands easily churn out hundreds of designs (none more so than Pierre Frey) in a multitude of colorways. The 2026 headlining collection is Jardin à la française, which ranges from more abstracted garden-path geometries to charming prints based on Le Nôtre’s original sketches for the gardens of Marly and Versailles, housed in France’s National Archives. Meanwhile, Mémoires Colorées was born out of Patrick Frey’s (who currently helms Pierre Frey) close friendship with Belgian artist and paper sculptor Isabelle de Borchgrave. Before her passing in 2024, the two conceived a vivacious collection based on her artwork and studio, which was also recreated at one of Pierre Frey’s rive-gauche showrooms.
I then stacked my afternoon with a trio of exhibitions near my forever-favorite green space, the Tuileries Garden. Though it originated at NYU’s Grey Art Museum, I was eager to see Berthe Weill. Art dealer of the Parisian Avant-garde at the Musée de l’Orangerie in the city where she made a name for herself through the many artists (as major as Matisse and Picasso) she championed. I then stopped by Gagosian’s Rue de Castiglione space, where, through the windows, Joseph Cornell’s tchotchke-filled New York basement studio had been recreated. The project was made in collaboration with Wes Anderson, who, like myself, finds endless inspiration in Cornell’s whimsical shadow boxes, which transform humble materials into fine art. Though the artist was entranced by Paris and dedicated many works to the city, he never left the United States.
Speaking of wanderlust, I was met with one of my own travel dreams at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, one of my favorite museums in the world with its fusion of art, design, fashion, and jewelry. While I expected the museum’s Art Deco blockbuster to contain an enfilade of gorgeous 1920s objects, I had not realized its first floor was entirely devoted to the Orient Express. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been enamored with luxury travel throughout history (perhaps it’s my millennial upbringing spent gawking at the Titanic’s interiors and lusting after my Samantha American Girl doll’s epic steamer-trunk wardrobe). The resurgence of luxury rail travel (in particular, the Orient Express’s own revival) has swiftly made stepping back in time on a nostalgia-inducing train ascend to the top of my bucket list. With its recreation of train cars then and now and a detailed look at the company’s materials and accoutrements, the MAD exhibition may be the closest I’ll ever get to la vraie chose. As a lover of world’s fairs, I spent hours ogling over the rest of the exhibition’s objects, from André Groult’s shagreen chest of drawers to Cartier’s Tutti Frutti jewels and Sonia Delaunay’s wearable art.
Paris has several exhibitions dedicated to the 100th anniversary of Art Deco, including LV Dream, reminiscent of a pared-down version of Louis Vuitton’s traveling Volez Voguez Voyagez exhibition (one of my favorite shows to date!) I never grow tired of the maison’s leather trunks, which, as if by magic, convert into bespoke vanities and desks.
I ended my night at Galerie Kraemer, one of the most impressive “antique shops” I’ve ever visited, where nearly everything is for sale. (Except the Marie Antoinette-era shoes, which I obviously had to inquire about!) Jiun Ho, Shiir Rugs, and Lala Curio hosted an 18th-century-themed soirée in the gallery’s regal salons, where an artist also gave me the perfect memento—a quick portrait-sketch—to remember the evening.
Day 3: Adult Crafting, Pampering, and Hôtel Particulier Partying
Arguably my best souvenir, however, was one of my own creation. On January 16, I partook in a mask-making workshop with Samuel Sons, who hosted a masquerade ball the following evening at a Marais theater. A few years ago, when Samuel Sons was renovating their New York showroom, I was invited to design a pillow with any (and all) trims. It was at that point I realized I must’ve been a passementerie purveyor in a past life, so I knew the chance to pile on the trims in another format would be a highlight of my week. I was especially pleased to see one of my favorite fabrics from seasons past (a Sanderson x Giles Deacon blue and green jagged stripe) as a base option. With Art Deco plumed jewels on the mind, I then had the stroke of genius to turn a tassel upside down so the threads would fan out in what I’d call my homage to Paul Poiret. The workshop’s participants proved endlessly clever—and my quest to trim anything I can continues.
After a series of stops in St. Germain, a Déco Off hub, I officially reached the point in my trip where my feet and back were throbbing. I found great reprieve at Calma Spa, where, after viewing new lighting and furniture from Iatesta Studio and California-based designer Kendall Wilkinson, I was treated to a complimentary 30-minute massage (a genius PR move I hope will become a Paris Design Week tradition!) My nightcap was cocktails at the treasure-filled home of antique dealer and decorator Jean-Paul Beaujard, who collaborated with Edmond Petit and Carpet Society (formerly Codimat Collection) on a line of floral textiles, wallpapers, and rugs. This was easily one of the most resplendently maximalist hôtels particuliers I’ve ever seen.
Day 4: St. Germain and Marais Mainstays, Plus a Divine Dinner
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The next day, I returned to St. Germain to visit two British heritage brands: Liberty, who, for its 150th anniversary, unveiled new wallpapers drawing on its archive of more than 60,000 designs, and de Gournay. While the latter typically transforms its showroom’s apartment into a sultry speakeasy, this year the space served as an airy shoppable antique shop—as always, the company’s hand-painted and embellished wallcoverings formed a dreamy backdrop.
Just up the stairs is the utterly elegant Maison Leleu, which was founded in 1910 by Jules Leleu, who won the prestigious Grand Prize at the 1925 International Exposition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts. In 1969, the Shah of Iran commissioned Leleu to make 51 tents for a sprawling installation commemorating the 2,500th anniversary of the founding of the Persian Empire—after three years, however, the bill was never paid, forcing the company to shut down. In 2017, Jules’s great-granddaughter, Alexia Leleu, revived the maison, bridging original designs with the occasional modern twist.
After I made my way to the Marais to catch an installation conceived by Nordic Knots with interior designer Marie-Anne Derville at the Andrée Putman-designed Hôtel d’Hallwyll. While in the neighborhood, I swung by the Fondation Azzedine Alaïa to see the first of the two-part exhibition on the designer’s outstanding Christian Dior collection, which is composed of more than 500 designs. I then went to the Victor Hugo house-museum to see Hugo décorateur, an exhibition exploring the author’s deep interest in design, which only enriched a visit to his home’s beautifully preserved salons. I was particularly smitten with a dollhouse-like box that Hugo built during the 1830s with his friend’s children. My night concluded at yet another hotel particulier, this time for a formal dinner at the famous Hôtel Salomon de Rothschild, where Corey Damen Jenkins fêted his new lighting collaboration with Eichholtz in glorious Haussmannian fashion.
Days 5 6: Flea Finds, Private Archive Tours, and a Grand Palais Double-Feature
No Paris trip is complete without a visit to les puces. While I usually venture north to the gargantuan Saint-Ouen market, I decided to stop by the less overwhelming and more gently priced Porte de Vanves market, where hundreds of vendors occupy two streets and spread their goods (largely bric-a-brac or easily transportable “smalls”) on tables. Haul highlights include a footed pink alabaster casket box, a brass Art Nouveau hand mirror, and a vintage Emanuel Ungaro floral jacket.
I then made my way back to Pierre Frey, where I enjoyed the ultimate treat: a private appointment to explore their jaw-dropping archive. The custodian of the maison’s some 20,000 documents, fragments, and objects is the effervescent Sophie Rouart, who indulged me in pulling any style of my choosing. (Lamé, chiné, moiré—there’s a drawer for that!) A highlight was getting to see a mammoth 18th-century woodblock, complete with metal detailing for an ultra-precise print. In the archive, it’s easy to see how closely intertwined fashion, art, and design have always been—and how Pierre Frey produces such expansive collections, as there’s no shortage of inspiration.
My final day in Paris was all about museum exhibitions. The show I had been most excited to see (and the one I can confidently say was my favorite out of the many I saw this trip) was the Grand Palais’s Eva Jospin, Grottesco · Claire Tabouret, D’un seul souffle, where each French artist had her own gallery featuring monumental work. There, Tabouret showcased her life-size models and preparatory work for her six stained-glass windows for Notre-Dame Cathedral, a commission she won in 2024. Though the decision to feature the work of a contemporary artist has stirred up controversy, I’m in awe of the power and reverence found within her thoughtful intervention, and can only imagine how resonant it will be in stained glass.
While Tabouret’s work cloaks you in luminous hues, Jospin uses color much more sparingly. And yet in her cardboard world, there are infinite moments for magic and discovery. I’ve long been a fan of Jospin’s work, but I’d never seen the breadth and such mastery of her media (namely cardboard and thread) as in this exhibition, presenting more than 15 works at every scale. It couldn’t have been further from the sumptuous textiles and spectrum of wallcoverings I saw this week, and yet, it was just as spellbinding. I’m always drawn to artists who are world builders, and I feel overjoyed and lucky to have experienced two of the ultimate—Jospin’s and Cornell’s—worlds during my trip.
My final stops were at the Palais Galliera, where its latest exhibition, Weaving, Embroidering, Embellishing. The Crafts and Trades of Fashion, reminded me of the Met’s 2016 show, Manus x Machina, with its emphasis on craft and materiality. I especially appreciated the collaboration with le19m, highlighting the historic embroiders, feather crafters, and other artisans who are preserving these specialized skills.
Rounding out my trip, I went to Galerie Dior to see more confections from Alaïa’s collection (plus another gorgeous work by Jospin, a frequent collaborator of the maison’s). A couple of years ago, I saw Alaïa’s couture collection exhibited at Palais Galliera, and after this Dior show, it’s even harder to fathom how one man could acquire so many exceptional pieces of fashion history.
With every trip I take, I know it’s an immense privilege to experience such beauty. There’s a poetic cohesion that sweeps across everything I see in the city, and somehow, my wish list is never complete—but that’s the joy. No matter how many times I visit Paris, there’s always more beauty to unearth.