We made it! The spring 2025 shows are done and dusted—that is, save for a Giorgio Armani spectacular scheduled for mid-October in New York. As I checked the headlines about the Vice Presidential debate on my way to Charles de Gaulle, I was reminded of the Presidential head-to-head during New York Fashion Week, all of us rushing home from Luar’s own blowout at Rockefeller Center to watch. It feels like eons ago, and so much has happened in the intervening days: Bombs are raining down in the Middle East, a devastating hurricane swept through 600 miles of the American South, killing more than 100 people, and Austria’s own far right just won that country’s national election, the list goes on. “Being part of Fashion Month,” as you wrote in your Coperni review, Luke, “always feels like inhabiting an alternate (un)reality.” But rarely more so than this season.
It makes me think: Do brands engage enough as they should with the times in which we’re living? Willy Chavarria did so in New York, which for me was the most moving show of the season, one that championed América’s multiplicity and breathed fresh, thrilling life into common uniforms. Designers, being sensitive people by nature, have picked up on the generalized sense of fear and worry; one of Miuccia Prada’s Miu Miu collaborators declared “we’re in the endcore now” in a newspaper dubbed The Truthless Times that was placed on our seats. But putting all that angst on the runway is a no-go for many. Instead, they rallied around themes like joy (Marni), a childlike sense of wonder (Bottega Veneta, Loewe), and algorithm-busting individuality (Prada, Valentino, Louis Vuitton). Nicolas Ghesquière said he wanted to create pieces you couldn’t put a name to. His words keep ringing in my ears: “If you don’t put yourself in aesthetic danger every season, you’re not playing the game of fashion.” Aesthetic danger may be risk enough. What did everyone else think?—Nicole Phelps
I suppose aesthetic danger in fashion means being free to reimagine and innovate how clothing interacts with the human body, taking risks without being constrained by the rules of the market. Yet fashion isn’t art. Fashion designers must confront the physical limits of the body, whereas artists deal with the boundaries of perception. And art can be more overtly political, while fashion has become inextricably linked to the people-pleasing entertainment industry. Moreover, today’s rules of fashion are dictated by large conglomerates, a battle of Titans that often crushes smaller or mid-sized brands. How can you take aesthetic risks in this climate, if you’re not protected by the deep pockets of a fashion jaggernaut? Also — the skyrocketing prices in fashion are staggering—where does this come from? Answers tend to be opaque, depending on who you ask. How can a designer’s message of joy (this was the overall mantra this season) be embedded in the creation of a dress that cost as much as a teacher’s monthly salary? Who will joyfully spend $1,000 on a white T-shirt (I won’t name names)? Is high fashion truly democratic? I wonder.
Shortly after landing in Milan yesterday—Boom! Hedi leaves Celine, replaced by Michael Rider, while Filippo Grazioli exits Missoni. Shakeups galore. Suddenly the final ominous scene in Hedi’s Celine spring 25 video—antique chandeliers crashing to the ground at Château de Compiègne—made perfect sense. It seemed to symbolize not only his personal departure but also be a metaphor for the industry’s current state. Yet, throughout fashion weeks, when designers showcased incredible resilience, almost defiance, it felt truly invigorating. Feeling that resilience and defiance brought me—yes!—joy, especially at Marni, Bally, Bottega Veneta, Valentino, and Loewe. And kudos to the brave, talented younger designers —Sunnei, Rokh, Nicolò Pasqualetti, and Duran Lantink —who deserve praise for persevering in such a tough environment, fearlessly embracing aesthetic danger.—Tiziana Cardini
Oh go on, Tiziana, name names! But I do agree with so much of what you said. What I kept coming back to this season, especially in Europe, of course, was the power and might of the heritage and luxury houses, and how they so entirely dominate the industry now. A lot of them delivered really terrific shows—Matthieu Blazy at Bottega Veneta, Simone Bellotti at Bally in Milan; Anthony Vaccarello at Saint Laurent (my favorite show of the entire season), Chemena Kamali at Chloé, Jonathan Anderson at Loewe, Nicolas de Felice at Courrèges, and Alessando Michele at Valentino (Team Michele all the way here) in Paris. But you ask yourself where is the room for the independents now? Yes, there were great shows from Rick Owens, The Row, and Erdem, but a decade from now, who will be in the position they’re in today? Virginia Smith and I went on the very first day of Paris to see the young Belgian designer Julie Kegels, and I really liked her and the collection; she was smart and thoughtful and witty both in the work and in person. And I was interested to see that, only two seasons in, she is already thinking of herself as a fully fledged brand. Given her talent, I really want her—and other designers, like Diotima, and Zankov, and Luar, and Paola Carzana, and Aaron Esh, and Duran Lantink—to succeed.
You might remember, Nicole, a few weeks ago I’d emailed you, Laia, Jose, Laird, and Irene about that iconic Steven Meisel image from our July 2000 issue where he shot a group of ‘new’ designers, like Hedi Slimane (at Dior at that point), Nicolas Ghesquière (then at Balenciaga), Junya Watanabe, Veronique Branquinho and Lawrence Steele, among others. That image kept popping up in my mind during the shows because if you were to do it today it would almost only be people sitting at luxury houses and brands; somehow back then it felt like more of a level playing field, with houses and independents alike sharing the billing. That’s not to take away from how fantastic the likes of those sitting at luxury houses and brands are—they offer some of the most creative and exciting fashion, and never more so this season—but we need both their work and those who are operating independently to shine.—Mark Holgate
Placing yourself in “aesthetic danger” is a beautiful, romantic, devil-may-care idea. It’s also a strategy open chiefly to those who have nothing to lose; i.e. either designers who are vying to “emerge” (the independents Mark talks about), or those lucky few who are at houses that are so insulated by wealth and job security that they can flirt with danger pretty much consequence free. For me, the two emerging designers who are combining danger-flirtation with the development of distinct brand codes that you can see becoming the foundation of business stability are Duran Lantink and Chopova Lowena—there were very probably others that I didn’t see, of course. Lantink’s form of meme-friendly sustainable surrealism makes him an especially intriguing candidate for certain houses where the artistic directorship is up for grabs.
Often this season though you could detect on the runways the broader industry distress that, right now, consumers aren’t consuming. This left a lot of designers pivoting to humanity’s other favorite recreational pastime: Sex and sexiness seemed one of the biggest themes of the month. Personally I thought that Andreas Kronthaler for Vivienne Westwood, Jun Takahashi at Undercover, and Nadège Vanhee at Hermès explored this territory most interestingly. It was also super intriguing that both Balenciaga and Dolce Gabbana approached the subject in adjacent and overlapping ways. The young indie who looks best placed to benefit from the trend is Nensi Dojaka: I’m slightly agog to see how Victoria’s Secret re-reinvents itself around the subject yet again, but I reckon the most effective thing they could have done is hire her.
Another strategy to get through hard times is to bank on pieces or themes that you know audiences want: the greatest hits approach. To a greater or lesser extent we saw this at Saint Laurent (where the founder is the cipher), Prada (stone-cold classics sprinkled amongst the new), Miu Miu, Balmain, Fendi and even Valentino, although there the designer’s references, to the founder’s archive was as much about establishing a lineage as anything. I really enjoyed Adrian Appiolaza’s angle into Moschino, too.
However the designer whose shows were most intriguing of all, at least to me, was Jonathan Anderson. Both at his own place and the house he represents he seems to be engaged in a process of distillation and essentialization, reducing collections to singular looks in singular materials that are shaped through his singular filter. He works for the biggest group of all, but his outlook and output remain as independent and distinct as any designer you can think of. Plus, he sells. That surely is a recipe for joy.—Luke Leitch