There are few designers in London as articulate about what they’re trying to achieve as Conner Ives—a fact that felt even more pronounced this season, given the thinner show schedule and the conspicuous absence of several other London-based bright young things. “I’ve spoken to a lot of other designers, and it kind of feels like we’re all making it up as we’re going along right now,” said Ives in the days leading up to his show. “I think when stuff gets as real as it’s gotten over the past year or so, fashion can feel especially frivolous, and that ended up being the challenge of this season. You ask yourself, Why am I doing this? Well, I’m doing this because I have a fashion degree, not a degree in humanitarian studies. I have to try to make sense of the world in the way I know how.”
What Ives knows well is how to make clothes that can get the party started—something that was obvious from the opening moments of his show at the black-and-gold Art Deco jewel box of the Savoy’s Beaufort Bar. As Diana Ross’s “No One Gets the Prize” pulsed from the speakers, model Hunter Pifer struck a perfectly timed pose in the doorway to a stab of strings, before vamping her way into the room in an embroidered silk jacket, hot red leggings, and a pair of killer heels with flying silver straps designed in collaboration with Jimmy Choo. Playful reinterpretations of the classic sartorial formulas worn by Ives’s signature lineup of American female archetypes soon followed: a precisely cut tuxedo jacket and trousers paired with a baseball cap based on a Lauren Hutton look from the ’80s; an ice-skater knit dress festooned with cotton pom-poms; a look in recycled golden spandex as a throwback to Halston’s heyday.
But this time, there was also a more menacing side to Ives’s glossy vision of the American dream. In the show notes, he spoke of “American tragedies,” quoting lyrics from melancholy Sondheim classics like “Send in the Clowns” and “The Ladies Who Lunch,” while also titling the collection after Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz, the semi-autobiographical film charting a self-destructive, workaholic choreographer’s breakdown, decline, and eventual death. “I mean, I can’t say it didn’t feel familiar trying to run a fashion brand in London,” Ives said with a laugh. “But it also got me thinking about autobiography more broadly. I think this is the first season that is a little more influenced by how I dress myself, and what I feel confident wearing.” That explained some of the more humorous notes, such as the playful tuxedo T-shirt complete with a carnation inspired by Ives’s own fondness for a tux, then paired with pedal pushers. “There was something so unhinged about it that I really loved,” he said. (The return of Ives’s baguette Bias bags with upcycled fishing-lure charms also brought a warmer touch.)
But there were more serious clothes in the mix here too, not least some dazzling eveningwear—all of which benefited from the moody opulence of the surroundings. “I wanted the vibe to be a bit darker and sexier,” Ives said of the space and the accompanying soundtrack of disco classics—plus a brilliantly bonkers jazz cover of Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass.” The final quartet of looks included a zebra-print caftan, a racy bias-cut dress in a sumptuous purple with the front open all the way down to the waist, a more ladylike riff on his piano shawl dress, and a gorgeous bridal ensemble to close the show in a diaphanous chiffon with a lengthy train following behind. “I wanted it to feel a bit showgirl-y as well,” Ives said. “To look back at a time when you could buy a fabulous dress that was truly designer that didn’t come with a four- or five-figure price tag, which I think has been lost in the 21st century.”
Stepping out to take his bow, Ives wore a T-shirt reading “Protect the dolls”: a token of support for the trans community at a moment when rollbacks of LGBTQ+ rights are being pushed through with unprecedented speed by the Trump administration. “You look at everything happening in the world right now, and you get into this weird headspace where you think: How, with my fashion collection, am I going to solve the problems in the world right now? Which is obviously a bizarre thing to think. But through making these collections, I am able to process my thoughts and my take and where I sit on things,” he said. “At the same time, I want to create something that can offer a brief escape from everything that’s happening in the world.” It’s a sentiment to which many designers—and, indeed, creatives of all stripes—can surely relate. And it speaks to Ives’s talent that he’s able to circle that square with such assurance, to lean into fashion’s transportive magic without losing that wider perspective. He may be “making it up as he goes along,” but it’s working.
