Maison Margiela’s First Collector’s Tabi Isn’t for Fans—It’s for Devotees

Some objects are made to be admired, others to be acquired. This one sits somewhere in between—a fashion artefact designed for those who treat scarcity as a form of devotion.

Some shoes reflect taste. Tabis tend to reveal temperament. They signal a willingness to commit to a silhouette that half the world misunderstands—and the other half quietly covets. That magnetism is no accident; it has been decades in the making. It’s this long-held creative restlessness that the avant-garde fashion house taps into with Maison Margiela’s first edition of the Tabi Collector’s series—not as an appeal to scarcity for its own sake, but as a reminder of how far a single idea can evolve when a brand refuses to treat its icons as relics. What began as a split-toe provocation has now shapeshifted into a collector-grade object: a 25-pair drop of hand-embroidered Tabi boots known as the Tabi Broken Mirror Embroidery, each embellished with thousands of fractured mirrored beads.

They function as footwear, but in every detail, they are also miniature installations. Recognisably Margiela, unmistakably niche, and made for the kind of collector who views the Maison Margiela Tabi as both a cultural emblem and a long-term investment. Seen in person, they catch the light the way jewelry does—sharp, elusive, and undeniably theatrical.

Maison Margiela's Tabi Collector’s Series

The Collector Mindset—and Why Certain Pieces Trigger It

Not every beautifully made object inspires the instinct to collect. Plenty of shoes are exquisite; very few become artefacts. Collectors look for a specific triangulation: rarity, clear cultural significance, and a house that has cemented a silhouette as part of its identity.

The Tabi holds that space with ease. Since 1989, it’s survived criticism, memes, celebrity moments, TikTok cycles, and academic essays. It’s polarising, sure, but it has endurance—and endurance is often what distinguishes “nice to have” from “this belongs in a catalogue one day”.

So when the house launches the Tabi Collector’s series officially and with intent, it formalises what long-time collectors have known all along: the Tabi isn’t just about fashion. It’s about literacy, context, and taste.

Maison Margiela's Tabi Collector’s Series

A Boutique That Frames the Icon

To house this edition, the brand’s new boutique at Paragon Singapore steps into one of the island’s most heavily trafficked luxury corridors—a mall where discreet wealth and high-fashion fluency pass each other every minute. Spanning 2,200 square feet, the store embodies Margiela’s philosophy of anonymity and nonconformity, where minimalism meets subtle spectacle. Travertine marble underfoot reflects a quiet elegance, while black epoxy panels frame the three fitting rooms, creating a sense of theatre without ever shouting.

Every detail has been considered: shelves, display tables, and distinctive fluted panels are not just functional but part of the visual narrative, a reflection of the Maison’s commitment to quiet subversion. Entering the boutique feels like stepping into a curated exhibition rather than a conventional store. It’s the kind of environment that encourages pause, attention, and discovery.

At the centre of it all, Maison Margiela’s first edition of the Tabi Collector’s series occupies a position of quiet prominence. The Tabi Broken Mirror Embroidery isn’t merely merchandise; it’s the thesis of the space. The boutique’s restrained aesthetic amplifies the boot’s fractured shine and intricate beadwork, giving collectors a moment to experience the piece as both fashion and object d’art. It frames a cultural statement, showcasing how Margiela has always thrived in the tension between the anonymous and the extraordinary.

The Craft—Broken Mirrors, Real Technique

Seen up close, the Tabi Broken Mirror Embroidery boots justify the scarcity. Each pair uses over 8,000 hand-applied beads to create a fractured, reflective surface that shifts dramatically depending on the angle. It’s meticulous work—labor-dense, almost sculptural.

The split toe keeps it anchored in the Margiela vocabulary, but everything else pushes it into the realm of collectible objects. You can imagine it on a pedestal as easily as you can imagine it on someone’s Instagram grid. And for a certain kind of owner, that duality is the point.

Why Only 25 Pairs? The Quiet Logic of Scarcity

Scarcity isn’t always marketing theatre. In atelier-centric work like this, scarcity is often the natural consequence of labour.

Could they have produced 100 pairs? Technically, yes. But should they? Absolutely not.

Keeping it to 25 makes the story cleaner, the craft defensible, and the object more magnetic. First edition. Hand-embroidered. Twenty-five worldwide. That’s the sort of provenance line that does most of the heavy lifting for you, in collector chats, in auction listings, or whispered over dinner before someone shows you “just one picture”.

Fashion as Asset—Do These Pieces Really Hold Value?

Sometimes, yes. And the Tabi has a track record to back it.

Margiela’s limited editions tend to appreciate, helped along by the shoe’s cult status and its steady cultural relevance. Parallel categories—from embellished Christian Louboutins to Hermès special-edition footwear—often double or triple in value within a few years, especially when tied to artisanal techniques or a house signature.

Maison Margiela’s first edition of the Tabi Collector’s series lands squarely in that lineage. It has rarity, craftsmanship, narrative clarity, and the important detail: it’s the first. And first editions tend to age well—whether we’re talking watches, books, or fashion.

That said, fashion is still an emotional asset class. Its value moves with taste, culture, and the people paying attention. But in the niche world of high-fashion collectors, this is exactly the sort of piece that circulates with reverence.

Maison Margiela's Tabi Collector’s Series

The Bottom Line

The launch of Maison Margiela’s first edition of the Tabi Collector’s series isn’t about a store. It’s about signalling—the house asserting its place in the world of fashion collectibles.

You can treat the piece as art, as investment, or as cultural punctuation. Whatever your angle, the message is clear: some things aren’t made to be worn.
They’re made to be owned.