Amazingly, whatever we might have feared about London fashion dwindling away or going timid under the horrendous pressures of these times, almost the opposite happened. This morning a BFC press release popped into my inbox, stating there were “94 physical activations” during London Fashion Week (and that’s just the official ones)—and it felt like it. We were chasing designers all over the place; and some digitally in lookbooks, like Chopova Lowena and Supriya Lele, because, yes, showing is crazy expensive, but who holds it against designers picking and choosing how and when to do their thing?
It’s a cliché that dark economic times always bring out the best in London, but there’s a truth to it. Mainly because it’s the prime London designer rule
that you must be yourself, and when the economic chips are down, you just go stronger and louder—as Vivienne Westwood, John Galliano, and Alexander McQueen all did. Multiculturalism is an equal part of London’s creative superpower as a fashion city as its individualism. You just can’t make trends out of that (quiet luxury is a baffling concept), but we did see JW Anderson come out with total clarity, almost a brutishly brilliant youth-driven skit on old timer Britishness, and Erdem, passionately focusing on everything he believes in with his decoratively undone tribute to Maria Callas. There’s zero similarity between those two—neither of whom have anything in common with Paolo Carzana, the young gently poetic Welsh firebrand—except that, 20 years ago, both Erdem and Jonathan Anderson also started up, pretty much penniless, fueled like Carzana is today, by hope and vision.
I couldn’t get to everything, but I want to make one last important point. If you scroll through Vogue Runway’s coverage, you’ll see collections by 17 independent women designers, from Emilia Wickstead to Dilara Findikoglu, Simone Rocha to Dimitra Di Petsa, Sinead O’Dwyer to Molly Goddard, Ahluwalia to Tolu Coker, Roksanda Ilincic to Robyn Lynch, and Masha Popova to Kazna Asker. Something else about what that list means to London: These designers represent their connections with Greece, Turkey, Ireland, China, Serbia, Nigeria, India, Ukraine, and many more countries. You don’t have to look very far to know that London’s fashion energy thrives because of the very fact we’re not Little Britain.—Sarah Mower
As Sarah mentioned, I don’t think there was a single conversation I had with a designer over the past week where the subject of Britain’s economic woes didn’t come up. (Just last Thursday, as the first London Fashion Week events were kicking off, our government confirmed that we slipped into a recession at the end of last year.) But it was fascinating—and at times, genuinely moving—to see the various ways in which they were meeting these challenges head-on. For some, that meant expanding into new territory—Emilia Wickstead’s grittier spin on her classic pieces springs to mind, as does the corsetry and subtle kink of Simone Rocha’s collection, undoubtedly influenced by her recent phase rooting around the Jean Paul Gaultier archives—while others, like Molly Goddard and KNWLS, were compelled to let the material dictate the medium, essentially doubling down on the idea of making great, grown-up clothes (however obvious it sounds) rather than letting themselves be distracted by high-concept mood boards or OTT show venues.
Maybe it was the timing of the 40th anniversary of London Fashion Week that prompted it, or maybe there was just something in the air, but it was also interesting to see how designers were picking apart notions of Britishness. Jonathan Anderson’s brilliantly wacky riffs on the slippers and granny pants and woolly jumpers of The Last of the Summer Wine also served as a canny meditation on TikTok’s ability to revive cultural relics from decades past, while Daniel Lee’s blockbuster show on Monday night cleverly reflected on the broad spectrum of characters the brand caters too: whether the “bourgeois Bruton dames” and “louche London dandies” of today, as Luke described them in his review, or the nods to the brand’s boom in the 2000s woven throughout, from the Amy Winehouse soundtrack to sending Agyness Deyn, Lily Donaldson, and Lily Cole down the catwalk. (Also, the craftsmanship was impeccable.)
Sometimes, though, it’s an outsider’s perspective that cuts through strongest—as seemed to be the case with Erdem Moralioglu, who, while half-British, also grew up in Montréal with a Turkish father. He returned to one of his most beloved settings, the hallowed halls of the British Museum, to show a collection that paid homage to the Greek opera star Maria Callas. As Sarah pointed out in her review, the decision to stage it in the room that houses the Elgin Marbles—the controversial sculptures that once decorated the Parthenon and whose repatriation has led to diplomatic tensions between the British and Greek governments—lent it a weightier significance. Yet it was also Erdem at his boldest and most extroverted, with dresses hand-painted by the designer himself lending it an extra touch of creative brio. And it was reassuring, given the UK’s seemingly endless state of crisis, to see that there were still plenty of designers unafraid to swing for the fences.—Liam Hess
Turning 40 is a moment that often feels like a fork in the road: do you lean into the enlightenment of maturity, or try endlessly to relive that wild spark of youth? This 40th anniversary edition of London Fashion Week happily represented a synthesis of both. Designers such Aaron Esh, Sinead O’Dwyer, Paolo Carzana, and several others demonstrated that the UK capital still justifies its much repeated (most often of all by Londoners) reputation as a center of emerging creativity in fashion. At the other end of the scale, Burberry—which faces a disproportionately unique level of scrutiny compared to similar-scale house in Paris and Milan—seemed to find a new confidence in itself, leaning less uponan urge to appear avant-garde and instead working to present its core qualities in a fresh and stimulating way.
Then there were the in-betweens: of those, at JW Anderson and Dilara Findikoglu—designers who are utterly different in almost every regard, yet who share the capacity to electrify—London presented two of the strongest shows I predict we’ll see anywhere this season. Molly Goddard’s emotionally intuitive abstracts were especially beautiful, and Simone Rocha exhibited a newly expansive narrative scale to her work through its integration across cities, fashion categories, and frames of thought. The work of both Robyn Lynch and Masha Popova is developing excellently—I love how both these designers understand that wearable clothes can still be sensational. These were some of my personal highlights. On the flipside, I would have relished seeing shows from absentees such as Martine Rose, Matty Bovan, or Chopowa Lowena.
While I agree that the UK is not Little Britain, it does often remind me of Fawlty Towers. The British (and most especially the English) vote for their governments in elections, then double down on those mistakes in referendums. Like John Cleese’s character Basil Fawlty, they are the authors of their own misfortune yet they constantly bemoan it. This drives me crazy. But as Sarah suggests at the top, one unintended consequence of this unique blend of exceptionalism and dysfunction is that London truly is a wildly stimulating environment in which to carve out a creative identity. This 40th anniversary episode of LFW—despite the ongoing marginalization of menswear here—amply reflected that.—Luke Leitch
Emerging designers are at the beating heart of London, and—as Sarah and Liam touched upon—each one I spoke to expressed their own fears amid this economic and political climate. Yet, despite this, the city’s creative individualism shines through. Aaron Esh, whose sophomore show echoed the Noughties, intertwining elements of the era’s music scene and idiosyncratic British personalities, like Pete Doherty and Kate Moss, with a sophisticated cocooned ’60s silhouette, complete with haute couture intricacies. Esh himself likened the vibe of his creations to “a bottle of Prosecco, but with a spoon in it.”
Other highlights include Di Petsa, who delved into the intricate layers of female sexuality, presenting a sensual and empowering lineup—her infamous “wet look” dress was reimagined to reveal a baby bump. Jawara Alleyne drew upon his upbringing in the hurricane-prone Cayman Islands, translating the chaos and urgency of stormy weather into garments that echoed the hurried grab-and-go moments amid the storms. Yuhan Wang paid homage to trailblazing women in the legal realm, infusing her offbeat, ultra-feminine concoctions with nods to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and British judge Brenda Hale. Susan Fang transported audiences to a sugary-sweet universe, where optimism reigned amidst effervescent bubbles in the backdrop. Meanwhile, Dilara Findikoglu returned to the schedule, after a season absent, with her signature mystical darkness, accentuating waist-cinching silhouettes.
Traditional tailoring, an integral part of London’s sartorial heritage, was celebrated with fervor. Luke Derrick debuted with sleek, fabulously cut suits that epitomized understated elegance—no frills, just fantastic clothes. Tolu Coker celebrated the street hawkers of Ghana through impeccably crafted garments that exuded joy and pride—everyone left the venue with the biggest smiles seen all week. Sinead O’Dwyer, remaining faithful to her signature hip-skimming style, unveiled a collection of tailored separates, showcasing her versatility. I also have to commend O’Dwyer for maintaining her commitment to diversity in casting, emphasizing inclusivity and representation, devoid of gimmicks—each look was crafted specifically for the individual wearing it.
While Chopova Lowena and Supriya Lele opted for digital showcases, Talia Byre offered an intimate IRL experience, inviting the fashion press into her Hackney studio. Though she might still be relatively unknown and off-schedule, Byre’s distinct, peculiar take on a glamorous wardrobe is one to watch. Missing from the schedule was the inimitable Feben, who’s showing her collection in Milan with the support of Dolce Gabbana. Marking its 40th anniversary, LFW upheld its reputation as a global hub of the most invigorating fresh talent. Here’s to another 40.—Alex Kessler
