Belgian designer Marie Adam-Leenaerdt decided the world needed yet another airport-inspired experience, so she turned the dreaded passport-control maze into a runway for her spring collection. Her conceptual vision is about “affirming the freedom of clothing” and deconstruction, while making fashion relatable to women’s daily lives—because we all wake up thinking, ‘If only my outfit could double as a boarding pass.’ She wanted the clothes to be flexible, travel-friendly, transform seamlessly for any occasion, and have longevity. Naturally, each look was individual, designed to mimic the random assortment of travelers you’d find at Gate C42.
And since travel these days means lugging half your life around, models were sent out with humongous bags, complete with more compartments than anyone could possibly use. For footwear, Adam–Leenaerdt chose towering stiletto platforms or hyper-pointy pumps so impractical that one poor model literally toppled over, ditched the shoes mid-walk, and finished barefoot—arguably the most relatable nod to airport reality in the whole show.
The collection riffed on a freeform repertoire, ranging from daytime ease to evening sparkle. Dresses nodded to the black velvet busts used to display jewelry (because who wouldn’t want to dress like a necklace display?), topped with sequined aprons tossed askew. Pants were literally pinned over tunics, dangling as if the mannequin had staged an escape attempt; one floral gown was clamped at the back to “fit,” a trick familiar to anyone who’s ever outwitted a fitting-room mirror. Two identical slip dresses—floral-printed with inverted background colors, positive and negative—were stitched together at the back like a pair of sartorial Siamese twins.
Crystal-slick numbers shimmered with the texture of fishnets caught under a disco ball, and a bat-winged poncho-dress had one rebellious sleeve flapping asymmetrically, printed in a blown-up bandana motif. Even the trench coat couldn’t sit still, its belted bottom half detachable, allowing it to moonlight as two entirely different outfits.
The whole affair radiated a surreal sense of humor. There was even the touch of a Margielian ghost haunting the hems—an irreverent je ne sais quoi that kept things intriguing. Treacherous sky-high platform stilettos aside, of course.
