Hands-On and Unrushed: The Singular World of Norman Mabire-Larguier
© Alexandre Tabaste
Norman Mabire-Larguier approaches couture not as a pinnacle but as a necessity. "It's the only way I know how to work," he says. "I need time, I need the body, and I need to be able to go back and forth—between idea and making—as much as I want." Couture, for him, isn't a destination; it's a space where a garment can slowly take shape through repeated testing, small adjustments, and constant hands-on attention.
"If I move too fast, the clothes become superficial," he adds. "Couture lets me stay with a piece until it feels right." That willingness to linger, to undo and rebuild, explains his quiet beginning: a small house focused on making, not spectacle.
Working from a modest atelier on the third floor of a historic Paris building, the young designer is building his reputation steadily. He has already won prizes—the Grand Prix at Compo Moda Portugal and a place as finalist at the Festival de Hyères—but remains something of a kept secret. "Those moments gave me recognition, but more than that, they confirmed that my approach resonated with people who understand craft," he says.
NORMANMABIRELARGUIER © Mathilde Lesueur
His designs revolve around architecture, abstraction, and fit. "I really want to work on the silhouette, on proportions, on how the garment moves with the body," he explains. Even the smallest details—a shoulder seam, the curve of a high collar, the way a drape catches the light—are considered and reworked. His vocabulary extends to subtle inversions, raw edges, and unexpected material pairings, gestures that signal his hand without announcing it.
Since launching his eponymous house NORMABIRELARGUIER two years ago, he has resisted the usual push toward scale. Mabire-Larguier works almost entirely alone, calling on a couple of petite mains only for delicate embroideries.
From the first pencil lines and pattern drafts to toiles and the hand-stitched final garment, he executes everything himself. "I have assistants for some finishing touches, but the design, the pattern-making, the toiles—it's me from A to Z."
His process is deliberate and cyclical. He drafts patterns, makes toiles, adjusts, and repeats. “The whole process can take a month to a month and a half for each piece,” he remarks.
NORMANMABIRELARGUIER © Mathilde Lesueur
The fabric itself dictates subtle decisions: sequins fall differently than wool, silk behaves differently than crepe. The designer favours pure and natural fibres such as wool felt and wool twill, as well as silk organza, liking the contrast between the two: the heavy wool and the lighter, shiny organza. His palette is entirely black: “to me, black is a very radical statement to reduce the silhouette to its essentiality. This helps concentrate the attention on the architecture of the garment.”
Though his focus is on architecture, the designer is also experimenting with embroidery and pleating techniques. On the day of my visit to his atelier, several samples lay scattered across the main table, including one where silk organza had been frayed to resemble feathers and mixed with plastic fringes. "The idea is to bring an unexpected material into the embroidery," he says. "I'm really looking for a new take."
Mabire-Larguier is particularly proud of a collaboration with Atelier Logon to develop a micro-pleating that works in dual directions. "We worked on this plissé for weeks," he said, tracing a finger along the folds. "We probably did over 15 tests to get the spacing, the transparency, the movement just right. I believe it’s the smallest pleating they’ve ever done and can be done!"
From wool twill to hand-pleated organza, Mabire-Larguier's commitment to craft is evident in every fold and seam. "Even the smallest line matters," he says. Couture, for him, isn't a concept; it's a moment of exchange between the maker, the material, and the person wearing it—a dialogue that only emerges when the work is given time, care, and presence.
