Meet Lucky Love, the Musician & Model Adored by Maison Margiela, Gucci

The musician talks to Teen Vogue about his drag history, masculinity, and more.
Lucky Love at Gucci in February 2024
Photo by Vittorio Zunino Celotto/Getty Images for Gucci

“Sorry, I'm super late and I'm in Milano for Gucci, so I'm in my bath but I'm all yours,” Luc Bruyère, a.k.a. Lucky Love, says from a luxe hotel bathtub. The French model, musician, and performer is jet-lagged and tired from a month of fashion weeks and studio time, but he's happy. He's just finished recording his debut full-length album in Los Angeles, and his performance of “Now I Don't Need Your Love” framed a Maison Margiela show that has continued to reverberate around the internet in the month since.

But before he was prowling around a Margiela runway, before he enraptured an audience as drag persona La Vénus aux Milles Hommes (LVMH), he was a kid growing up in Lille, France, and Brussels, Belgium, discovering how fashion could change the way people perceived him. He remembers donning pum pum shorts, Dr. Martens boots, and a fake Birkin: “It was the first time that in the street people were looking at me, not because of my arm,” says Bruyère, who was born with one arm. “Finally, I understood that fashion was the answer. It was the answer to my difference. It will be my choice now. You will look at me because I've decided to wear this or that.”

Jeffrey C. Williams Lucky Lovem and Brooke Candy attend the Vivienne Westwood Womenswear FallWinter 20242025 show as...
(L-R) Jeffrey C. Williams, Lucky Love, and Brooke Candy attend the Vivienne Westwood Womenswear Fall/Winter 2024-2025 show as part of Paris Fashion Week on March 02, 2024 in Paris, France.Pascal Le Segretain/Getty Images

In 2022, he was the focus of the documentary Lucky, where he was vulnerable about his relationships, HIV diagnosis, and life broadly. At just 28 years old, Bruyère has already lived a thousand lives. The most recent one is fashion It-boy and alt-pop musician. His first EP, Tendresse, brought him to the runways of Maison Margiela and Gucci. His debut album, hopefully out this year, will bring him to the world with his unique mix of dark dance-pop and Freddie Mercury charisma.

Below, Teen Vogue talked to Lucky Love about how the Maison Margiela performance came together, how masculinity and femininity intertwine in his art, and how fashion has influenced his sense of self.


Teen Vogue: How would you describe the world you live in?

Lucky Love: It's a complex world. I would say that it's a kind of a blind world, that thinks that he sees better than anyone else. It's as if there is a lot of melancholy in our world. We always want to be faster, to focus on what's next, and that's the reason why we don't want to age anymore. We don't really want to also die anymore. Because we want to be the most powerful things on earth, but we actually have in hands, right now, a black box that is [smarter] than we are, and that makes us understand that we're nothing. I think that it's just my time, it's a time where I think humanity needs to connect with his humility, with the fact of accepting to be nothing. The only thing that we can do here is just create beauty, just try to create the most beautiful memories ever.

I love this liberation of my generation and also of the Z generation after us. It's so beautiful to see that they don't apologize anymore for who they are and that they're ready to fight for who they are. Queer community, Black community, everyone. I think it will be beautiful to see that we finally are all human and that in our history, we've been through these wars and all this colonialism, all this bullsh*t, to finally understand that we are all quite equal. That's also what I wanted to speak about in my album. It's just that the entire link is love.

TV: That's beautiful. What were you like as a child? You grew up in Lille?

LL: I grew up between Lille and Belgium, in Brussels. I don't really have great memories of my childhood. I was pretty lonely. I mean, when you are quite different, childhood can be really difficult because children have no filter. That's also the moment when you want to belong the most to something, to a group. Because I was born without my left arm, I was different by definition. It wasn't even because of my sexuality or because of my choices, it was just because of my nature. So I had to just understand how to find a place in this beautiful world. Because it's beautiful, [but] it was just not really made for me. I had to think a little more, to observe a little more, which I love now because it gives me this love for humanity. If you look enough and if you are patient enough, you'll see all the beauty of people. Even when they're not nice.

TV: You started dancing very young. How did that shape your relationship to music?

LL: It actually changed my life because dance was the reason why I understood that my body, which was different, was actually able to serve ideas and to be the instrument of something bigger. I loved [that] as a child because, finally, I found a sense to all of that bullsh*t. So it was like, "Yeah, finally, I have a reason. I know why I've been made this way." That was the first time that I found a vocabulary that was mine. I could express my feelings. And so all of this was because of music. Here we are, 20 years later.

Lucky Love at Vivienne Weswood Fall 2024 ReadytoWear Show as part of Paris Ready to Wear Fashion Week.
Lucky Love at Vivienne Weswood Fall 2024 Ready-to-Wear Show as part of Paris Ready to Wear Fashion Week.WWD/Getty Images

TV: How do you think about your teenage years now? You were in Brussels, going to art school. What was that time in your life like?

LL: My God, that was Fame. Literally the TV show. I absolutely loved it. It was the first school where I could finally find a place where I felt I belonged. I was there for a reason, I loved every moment of it. I could express myself in so many ways. It was really beautiful years. It was the years when I discovered my sexuality, the queer community, partying, Belgium, and drugs, which was something that crossed my path really young … and now it doesn't have any space in my life anymore. [Those years were] a revolution for me. I understood that I had something to say, and I was burning. I was really burning for freedom. I was waiting for it, to finally be independent, to finally make my own choices, to not apologize for who I was, to not have to fit [in], to find also my own people, to find my community.

TV: I love that, it being on your own terms. When did you start acting? You were briefly in Blue Is the Warmest Color, correct?

LL: Yeah, that was crazy. I mean, I was 18 and just got out of rehab, to be quite honest. I really needed money because I wanted to go to Paris and begin my new life. A friend of mine told me, "Oh, there is this movie that is actually happening in Lille now. You should go. They're looking for people just to complete the scenes and everything." So I went and the director, I don't know, fell in love with me. He offered me one scene in the movie that was not supposed to be, and then he brought me to Le Cours Florent, a famous theater and acting school in Paris, which I did for three years. That's what brought me to cinema and theater. It's been quite fast.

TV: I would love to hear more about when you began performing at the Madame Arthur cabaret as La Vénus aux Milles Hommes and what that time was like.

LL: Oh my God, am I an old lady now? I have so [many] memories to speak about. I feel like I'm an old lady in her bath. I was still dancing for the opera. I went to this cabaret one night as [an attendee], and the art director came to me and he was like, "Hey, what's your name?" I was like, "My name is Lucky." And for me, "Oh, and do you sing?" I was like, "Yeah, in the shower." And he was like, "Oh, do you want to try it on stage?" But I was actually quite tipsy, it was for fun. He called me the day after, and he said, "So, are you ready to sing?" And I was like, "What?" He told me, "Yeah, we have a gig for you tomorrow." That's how I had to create La Vénus aux Mille Hommes, which is the Venus of a Thousand Men. But La Vénus aux Mille Hommes also makes LVMH when you just keep the first letters. Cabaret is also such a place of freedom. It is also a political place. It's not just about having fun. It's also about delivering messages and not being scared to be yourself.

TV: It sounds like people meet you and fall in love with you and offer you things.

LL: Such a beautiful life. I don't know how, but yeah, it's very true. I always said I am what I am, and I do what I do just because of the people I've met in my life. It's just, I think, also when you have the capacity to just float, to just accept that you're not in control and that this life doesn't belong to you. That's what I think I've done my entire life, is just not being scared of pushing the boundaries, of also not trying to be in a box because I didn't want to be an actor, I didn't want to be a dancer. I was just a lost guy who tried to find a sense to all that. The only way I can express myself is through art.

TV: How did performing in a drag persona make you think differently about gender and yourself as a person?

LL: Well, I've always been really near to the trans community because I've been dating trans people. My best friend is a trans woman. And so, even before the cabaret, I was already quite involved in the queer community of Paris. So what changed with embodying a woman is also my sympathy towards them, my understanding of the differences that we have, and also it gives me humility. There is something so powerful in embodying a woman. I just understood that women were much more stronger than men, and that's why we can't handle it.

Women are the key. And even in my own life, my femininity has been the key. When I was a drag queen, I realized that it was actually allowing my femininity that made me understand that I was actually very masculine and that I could be masculine in a different way. That there was not just one way to be masculine. We should have many shades of masculinity, not just one. And even for femininity, my trans friends [and I discussed questions and expectations]. Because even when you do a transition, there are, like, codes. If you want to be a woman, then you have to have long hair. You have to wear heels, you have to wear skirts. It was so weird because even us, as a queer community, we are reproducing what they want from us, what normal society wants from a woman or a man. We still try to fit in, even though we know that we don't. I think that's a bummer. My femininity could make people uncomfortable, but just because they're uncomfortable with their own, not with me. Allowing yourself to be all the shades of yourself and allowing yourself to be a complex person, and not just one fixed image of what you're supposed to be, would help a lot.

TV: Pivoting over to your Fashion Week successes, starting with the use of “Masculinity” in the Gucci show in Paris. What did that feel like? Did you talk to Mark Ronson, who curated the soundtrack?

LL: I had an incredible connection with Sabato [De Sarno, creative director at Gucci]. I think he's a genius of humility. He brings poetry into fashion, which I love. He also pushed the boundaries of fashion by just his casting, the fact that he's casting all new faces, also that he bet on my music when I'm not Beyoncé. But still, he had convictions on his first men's collection. And I felt really honored that my song now is actually a part of what defines masculinity. Because fashion, for me, is what defines a lot in our society. Even though the people who don't care about fashion think that they have the choice. The Devil Wears Prada scene. It's very f*cking true.

Mark Ronson was crazy. I'm a huge fan of Amy Winehouse, and I don't know, being with Mark Ronson is being about one person off to Amy. I had the feeling that I was getting to her. I was like, "Oh sh*t, I'm almost touching her." He's such a humble guy, super nice. I was actually leaving the show and he told me, "Hey, Lucky. I think that you're the next big thing, so can I take a picture with you?" And when you have Mark Ronson telling you that he thinks that you're the next big thing, believe me, you're quite happy. It was a beautiful day. We exchanged numbers, and I think that creatively we'll meet again on some project.

TV: Then performing “Now I Don't Need Your Love” at the Maison Margiela show, what was that moment like doing it? Did you get to have a say in how that arrangement worked?

LL: Yeah, I mean, it was incredible because I'd been to Margiela because John Galliano took “Masculinity” before [for his spring-summer 2024 collection]. Ater the Gucci show, he contacted me and was like, "Hey, do you want to have dinner?" We went to have dinner and he was really shy. And in the end, he finally asked me, “You know, I thought that this song ‘Masculinity’ was a masterpiece and that it was the reason why I loved you. But then, when I heard 'Now I Don't Need Your Love' with your gusto, I understood that you are actually magical and that everything you do is beautiful, so would you actually make me the honor of opening the show?” And I was like, "My God. Of course, I would." And that was quite crazy because he looked like he didn't believe it, and I didn't believe it either. I was like, you are John Galliano.

He's so chic in a way that only English [people] are. He's chic, but he's trashy chic. He doesn't care, and that's what I love. He's here for the poetry, for the beauty. He's not here to lose his time. He's here to create something, which I loved, and I felt so, so honored because he brought me into the studio and showed me all the maquettes of the show.

TV: And then the actual performance…

LL: That was unbelievable. I was singing in a corset made by my favorite designer ever. This guy who actually gave me this considerable love for fashion. Because when I was a teenager, I looked at his shows and they were so theatrical and unapologetic.

TV: It was beautiful, there's a reason it's stuck with people even in the weeks after. It was a huge turning point moment for his career and his decade of reparative work after the things he's said in the past, antisemitic and racist remarks. Was any of that in your mind when you were thinking about the decision to do this?

LL: No. No, because [he was] really genuine. Really generous and really respectful. I think also that everyone makes mistakes in life. Sometimes we are drunk, sometimes we are not in a good moment [or] a good place, I don't know. But also now beginning to feel what being famous means, at my little stage, I imagine that when your entire life is always watched under a f*cking zoom, of course, you will find mistakes in one man's history, which doesn't mean that I accept or allow anything like… For example… We have problems with sexual assault and this needs to be punished, of course.

But I think also that the problem when you are an artist is that you're not punished just once, is that you are punished twice, and even more sometimes. I mean, it's the deal with fame. It's also the fact of, in a way, you belong to people. People think that you belong to them, so they have the right to [speak] when they're disappointed, when they are shocked. But when someone is that talented and that respectful with me, I didn't even think of it because I'm here for the art. I'm here for the beauty.

TV: What do you do when you've done something wrong and you are trying to fix it? What does repair look like in your own life?

LL: I think that most of the time when you have problems in life, you first need to heal yourself instead of judge yourself or punish yourself. Again, that's a question of guilt. I think that you have to avoid yourself to go in that direction of guilt and punishment. You have to understand why you've done that wrong and what it triggers in you. Then you have to go as deep as you have to and look for it in the darkness sometimes.

TV: I wanted to ask about your EP and what drew you to cover “J'veux d'la Tendresse,” popularized by Elton John and originated by Janic Prevost, and explore this concept of tenderness.

LL: My auntie sent me that song, and it was saying everything I wanted to say. I felt this urge to receive tenderness, and not even in a private way, but more as a citizen of the world. It was more like, “Can we just be gentle to each other? Is it that hard to empathize, to put yourself in the shoes of somebody else? To ask yourself if this person has problems before judging them?” I think that there is this vain thing about humanity sometimes that makes it really ugly, and “J'Veux d'la Tendresse” was more like I want to see your beautiful side too. Give me this tenderness that you are able to give.

TV: Do you consider yourself a pop artist?

LL: Yeah. I really fantasize about the idea of being the new Prince of Pop, just because I love in my head to build a story where I am the son of Michael Jackson, just because I just love him so much and I want to belong to his family, to his crazy pop wall of fame. I mean, yeah, of course, I am a pop artist. Just also by definition, because I want to speak about my time. I never want to make music for the musicians, or music for the fashions, I want my music to be reachable. I want my music to bring people together around ideas, not around identities, not around what makes us different, but I want my music to be the common point between all these different people. That's what's magical in pop music.