Inside the high-stakes projects behind Le Bon Marché’s iconic Christmas windows

It’s just before dawn on a chilly Friday when Monocle arrives to witness the secret delivery and installation of the window decorations. The precious cargo arrives in a huge truck at about 07.00. Nicolas Tillet, the project’s technical lead, is among the dozen workers unloading the pallets and positioning them in the department-store lobby. Tillet is clean shaven but with his grey hair, happy face and spectacles, he resembles an undercover Father Christmas in cargo pants. “Today’s the day!” he says as he greets us, electric drill in hand. Like a dance troupe that has rehearsed for months before its big premiere, Tillet and his coworkers skillfully manoeuvre their pallet jacks through the department store’s main entrance. Not unlike Santa’s elves, the dozen big men take tiny steps to glide past glass cases where customers will soon be browsing jewellery or fine leather gloves. Under Tillet’s exacting guidance, the technicians contort to slide into the narrow window spaces and wriggle the dressing in, all through concealed doors that the public will never see open. 

There are myriad festive gifts, fuzzy toys, shiny wrapping paper and boxes of artisanal chocolate that will be sprinkled around the shop’s 50 street-facing windows. The four most prominent frames will also play host to playful animations, from a makeshift chocolate factory to larger-than-life dentures being polished by toy rabbits – anything goes when it comes to imagining festive themes.

“It’s the busiest time of the year, so we have to get this right,” says Le Bon Marché’s creative director, Frédéric Bodenes, whose aim is to present a concept that will delight the shop’s youngest visitors and entice parents to embrace their inner child. Here on the ground floor, they will find 1,000 sq m dedicated to Christmas shopping, including a set designed to resemble an Alsatian Christmas market, complete with rows of chalets and cobblestoned streets.

This is the 29th year that the broad-shouldered creative director has worked on the windows. Across the decades he has experimented with numerous themes and protagonists, from lobsters to flamingos. “Once, I even did Christmas windows that were inspired by contemporary art – a total flop,” he says, wincing playfully. Since Le Bon Marché does not rent out its window space to brands (unlike most of its competitors around the world), Bodenes and his team can let their imaginations run wild.

“The windows have to be magical and joyful but also a little transgressive to get the parents into that playful space of Christmas cheer,” adds Bodenes. The windows become an attraction in and of themselves, he says with a sense of pride. “Each year, the unveiling draws a crowd – people even travel from outside of Paris to see them.”  

Balancing the need to show something fresh while respecting the sacrosanct boundaries of Nöel is a delicate mission. It’s why the planning phase begins months in advance, in a secret workshop outside Paris. Here, Bodenes and his crew present initial sketches and mock-ups to their teams, kicking off a flurry of discussions around the technical feasibility of each concept. Tillet, who is a specialist in electronics and mechanisation, is the first to be given the brief in early summer. Technicians and lighting designers then follow suit and the creative back-and-forth begins to make what seems technically impossible possible.

Bodenes describes Tillet as the shop’s very own “Gyro Gearloose,” a reference to the infinitely resourceful inventor from the DuckTales comic series, ubiquitous in France. “The first time we worked together I asked him to make me a dancing Christmas tree,” he says, while attempting a ballet pirouette. “He pulled it off, so naturally it was the start of a long partnership.” 

For this year’s storyline, the choice of protagonists comes as a surprise: a group of soft, toy rabbits. The idea came up during a visit to the Nuremberg International Toy Fair. “I saw this big mural of bunnies in all different colours and I immediately fell for them,” says Bodenes. “We had already decided on a traditional Christmas market theme for this year and I thought that they’d be perfect for the window show.” 

The team’s ambition goes well beyond token animation. There is lighting, music and choreography involved, making each window a standalone performance that plays in a loop for onlookers on Rue de Sèvres. “It has to be a real spectacle. The team spends hours mechanising and wiring each toy,” adds Bodenes while Tillet, who leads the mechanisation of the windows, is carefully undoing the seams, removing the stuffing and adding articulated frames and wires to the inside of each toy.

Making it all worthwhile 
Every team member is well aware that this is a high-stakes project – Le Bon Marché’s well-heeled customers feel strongly about Christmas. “One year, we installed the Christmas tree on the earlier side and many customers complained vociferously that it was inappropriate to put it up so early,” says Pierre Dromson, Le Bon Marché’s communications director. That, of course, goes for the windows as well: lifelong regulars feel a sense of ownership over the shop and let their displeasure be known if they feel that the window design misses the mark. 

The pressure is also on because the holiday season makes up a disproportionate number of annual sales for the retailer: the months of November and December alone are responsible for up to a quarter of annual sales. During that period, close to 1.5 million customers walk through the doors. To cope with the surge in foot traffic, executives from every department sign up for shop-floor shifts to assist overwhelmed sales associates or to man the gift-wrapping station – it’s all hands on deck for the most wonderful, lucrative time of the year. “One year I made the mistake of wearing a Christmas sweater on my gift-wrapping shift,” says Dromson. “It got way too hot. You won’t catch me gift wrapping in a cable knit again.”

It might come as a surprise that for a department store known for its fashion and beauty offering, Le Bon Marché’s festive windows deliberately omit traditional luxury goods. Instead, both the street-facing windows and the vast Christmas market focus on the art of gifting: clever knickknacks and trinkets, artisanal chocolates, knitted accessories and even carrot juice are merchandised throughout the space, alongside a selection of own-label products. “We offer gift ideas in dedicated spaces throughout the year, with a natural high point at Christmas time, when there is a strong emphasis on customisation,” says Elodie Abrial, the company’s commercial director. 

By looking beyond its core offer of designer handbags and high-end ready-to-wear items, Le Bon Marché is differentiating itself in an age of online shopping and stiff price competition. But it’s not so much a case of rethinking its role as a department store, than leaning into its long history of hosting cultural happenings. These date as far back as the 19th century, when the shop would host reading salons to entertain men while their female companions had dresses fitted. Since then, they have evolved into a rich, year-round agenda of art installations, performing arts happenings and shopping events featuring exclusive collaborations with designers and artists. 

The holiday season is the most extravagant manifestation of this retail strategy. “We go all out to put on a show that takes over the entire store,” adds Françoise Dilasser, Le Bon Marché’s lead scenographer. As the sun comes up, Tillet and his team continue their work. Several crew members glance at their wristwatches between tasks: every trace of the delivery must be gone by the time Le Bon Marché opens at 10.00.

Inside, the Christmas market is lit up, Le Bon Marché’s instantly recognisable escalators are clad in special, chalet-like decorations. The shop’s four Christmas trees, covered in hundreds of ornaments, stretch up towards the Gustave Eiffel-designed roof. Soon, crowds of passersby will flock to Rue de Sèvres to take in all of the team’s hard work and perhaps drop in to pick up a gift or two.

“It’s the most complex exercise of the year,” says Bodenes. “But when you ride the escalator, you hear customers laughing and you can tell that you’ve put them in the holiday mood – it makes it all worth it.”