He was not drawn to trends, but to form. To linen that breathes. To structure without weight. Jean de Lune believed that clothing should echo architecture — measured, quiet, intentional. From this vision, LUNEL was born: a wardrobe of restraint, where every piece is made to endure, not to impress.
Each hem, each fold, a memory stitched by hand.
Fashion may live on runways, but it is born in silence: in the slow rhythm of the machine, in the patience of the maker. What we wear today is more than design — it is inheritance, carried forward thread by thread.
Long before the garments, there were stones. Walls drawn with care, windows placed for light — his childhood was made of balance. Raised among blueprints and dust, Jean de Lune learned to see not just what fills a space, but what gives it breath.
He watched his grandfather restore forgotten facades, his mother archive stories in paper and cloth. Silence was never empty — it was structure. And form, he came to understand, could feel like memory.
When he later turned to clothing, it was not fashion he sought, but the same quiet order that shaped his youth: A collar like a cornice. A seam like a shadowline. Not built to impress — but to endure.
