Atelier du Sucre was imagined as a playground where yoga slips into couture, where function whispers to fantasy. It is not a studio, nor a runway, but something in between—a place where craftsmanship carries the same weight as storytelling, and where every object feels less designed than dreamt.
It is an atelier of contradictions: discipline and decadence, breathwork and brocade, Bali’s salt air braided with Parisian silk. Here, yoga doesn’t just live on the mat—it lingers in the drape of a fabric, the curve of a clasp, the rhythm of a hand-sewn stitch. Always refined, never ordinary, Atelier du Sucre asks: what if yoga were fashion’s most daring muse?
