At VivaTech, LVMH did not discuss innovation as if it were merely a tool. The group reframed it in terms of where it truly makes sense: in the long term, in the precision of the craft, and in the ability to improve without compromising its essence.
Standing opposite Antoine Arnault, Léon Marchand was not merely a token guest athlete. The four-time Olympic champion emerged as an unexpected reflection of luxury: the same approach to repetition, the same obsession with detail, the same quiet dedication behind the visible performance.
The conversation, titled “The Making of Excellence,” brought together two worlds that seem worlds apart. On one hand, LVMH, a group of luxury houses built on desirability, heritage, and masterful innovation. On the other, elite swimming, where the difference comes down to a single breath, a turn, a glide, or a stroke.
Antoine Arnault pointed out that innovation is no stranger to the luxury sector. In fact, it is one of the sector’s founding principles. Louis Vuitton invented the flat trunk in the 19th century. Dom Pérignon transformed the history of champagne. The Houses that endure do not survive because they resist change, but because they know how to set the right pace.
This point is crucial. LVMH does not seek to be the first to embrace every new technology. The group has observed the metaverse from a distance, while others saw it as an immediate revolution. This episode has confirmed a strategy: wait for usage to stabilize, then integrate the innovation when it serves the pursuit of excellence.
At VivaTech 2026, this vision takes shape in LVMH’s DreamGallery, designed as a journey through the luxury value chain, from materials to the customer experience. There, the group is showcasing twelve projects developed by eleven Maisons in collaboration with their technology partners, while reaffirming a simple idea: technology is only valuable when it enhances the quality of the gesture, the service, or the experience.
At Léon Marchand, the same logic applies to water.
Innovation isn’t spectacular. It measures. It adjusts. It refines. The swimmer mentions sensors, recovery tracking, WHOOP wristbands, sleep data, and heart rate during exercise. But he also points out that his coach, Bob Bowman, is still a man of pen and paper.
Technology does not replace method.
It complements it.
In swimming, as in craftsmanship, progress comes from paying attention to what seems insignificant. A better-executed turn. A different breathing pattern. A modified arm stroke frequency. The luxury industry understands this language: a cleaner seam, the perfect tension in the leather, invisible stone-setting, a drape refined right up until the very last second before the runway show.
Discipline then becomes the real issue.
Marchand puts it with rare clarity: motivation alone isn’t enough. It comes and goes. Discipline, on the other hand, lasts. It requires getting up at five in the morning, diving into the water without any particular desire to do so, and repeating the same movement until it becomes second nature.
Antoine Arnault draws a parallel with the business world. He recalls something his father, Bernard Arnault, once told him: that 90% of meetings might be boring, but they were necessary to get to the 10% that really matter. Even at the highest levels, excellence requires a certain amount of repetition that is simply accepted as part of the process.
This idea runs through the entire luxury sector.
In the workshops of the Maisons, repetitive motion is not a mere constraint. It is the key to precision. The artisan repeats the process not to produce more, but to produce with greater accuracy. Repetition becomes a form of culture.
The conversation also shifted the concept of individuality.
Swimming seems like a solitary sport. Behind the starting block, no one steps in for the swimmer. No one corrects their mistakes for them. Yet Marchand emphasizes the collective aspect: the Arizona State University team, the practices where you accept losing to those stronger than yourself, and the specialized swimmers who push him in each of the four strokes.
Individual excellence stems from a collective environment.
The luxury industry operates according to the same structure. A fashion show lasts eight to twelve minutes, but it encapsulates months of work: artistic direction, workshops, merchandising, marketing, production, and sales. A look that appears on the runway for just a few seconds embodies an entire network of actions and decisions.
Performance—whether athletic or creative—is rarely a solitary endeavor.
She is only represented by a face at the moment the audience sees her.
The discussion surrounding Paris FC builds on this line of thinking. The Arnault family’s investment in the Parisian club is not presented as a means of enhancing prestige, but as a project aimed at building the club from the ground up. The choice of a club still in the development phase, rather than a team already established at the top, speaks to a vision: to build, structure, and nurture a pool of talent, particularly in the Paris region, which is recognized as one of the world’s largest talent pools for soccer players.
Once again, the world of luxury and the world of sports converge on a simple idea: raw talent alone is not enough. You need a framework, a culture, a method, and the passing down of knowledge.
Léon Marchand, now setting his sights on the European Championships in Saint-Denis in August 2026 and then on Los Angeles 2028, refuses to view Paris 2024 as the ultimate achievement. He speaks of curiosity, a desire to explore other races, and to step outside his comfort zone. His next chapter seems driven less by an obsession with winning than by a desire to understand just how far the body and mind can go.
Perhaps that is where this conversation really hits the mark.
Excellence is not a state.
It’s a way of working with time.
Cette publication est également disponible en :
