“I’m still getting used to the weather,” Rhuigi Villaseñor said with a shrug. “A total of eight years living here, and all I know is va bene.” The everyday reflections on his long affair with Italy anchored the mood of Empire of Time, Rhude’s fall 2026 collection. It unfolded as a slow negotiation between California and the boot-shaped country, with consolidation at its core. “It’s an evolution of spring,” said Villaseñor, candid about the strategic shift behind it. After years of high-impact shows, he scaled back the presentation format to focus on customers rather than the calendar.
The recalibration felt both economical and philosophical: “Everything is sociology. When someone asks me what I do,” Villaseñor said, “I’m a teller of the time. We log the zeitgeist. We log the data.” For him, this season was about leading rather than reacting, even if that meant betting on pieces that don’t have immediate rack appeal. His long-running project is to blur the line between comfort and ceremony without surrendering either, and fabrication underscored that ambition. Italian wools sourced from Florence sat alongside Japanese indigo twill and herringbone, while French terry became the base for what he called a “traxedo”—a track pant engineered like a tux.
Carrot-cut trousers echoed the ease of sweatpants, cut in suiting wool instead; varsity jackets and zip hoodies were rendered with a softer, more tailored hand. The brand’s beloved T-shirts remained—“It’s the bread and butter, it’s our heritage”—but they no longer dominated the narrative. The same applied to motor and sports references, moving away from overt graphics toward a more controlled vocabulary.
While tailored garments and elevated outerwear are produced in Italy, Los Angeles remains the locus of Rhude’s washed-down Americana. “It’s ’50s La Familia,” the designer said, “It’s Frank Sinatra, it’s jazz. We’re not singing party songs anymore.” Denim was treated to achieve a perfectly imperfect patina, Nappa leather was sanded and softened, and wools were beaten up to look like they’d been found at Goodwill.
Yet Villaseñor is not abandoning spectacle entirely. He hinted at a renewed focus on accessories, and a future runway moment tied to global partnerships. “I don’t want to be led by my customers,” he said, “I want to teach them.” It’s a risky stance in a consumer-led market, but one aligned with his larger ambition: to build something with the longevity of the houses he admires. “If we’re looking to build like Ralph Lauren or Giorgio Armani,” he said, half-smiling, “we’ve got a long way to go.”
