“We are the goon squad and we’re coming to town. Beep beep,” so said Rick Owens of his latest menswear show. He was quoting David Bowie’s Fashion – a song that arrived as a sneer at the ruffled, self-regarding New Romantic movement of the early ’80s. And Owens looked to that exact history lesson for AW26, unveiling a collection that was about force, scale and what happens when power-dressing turns deliberately grotesque.
Set to ominous electronic noise in a smoke-choked Palais de Tokyo, the models advanced slowly, towering over the audience on sky-high, round-toed cargo boots inspired by policemen’s shoes. Aptly titled Tower, the idea landed not just in the literal height of the footwear, but in the bulk and authority of the silhouettes themselves. Nothing wobbled or teetered despite the altitude; everything felt planted, heavy and totally controlled.
Owens shelved the romance of his recent Temple of Love era in favour of something tougher and more confrontational. Sack coats ballooned in brushed alpaca and boiled wool. Close-fitting coats wrapped the body in glossy bull leather or Kevlar canvas, the bullet-proof association left intentionally intact. Puffers became architectural shoulder capes that jutted out like blades. Long dusters dragged behind enlarged pockets, while muscle-cut leather vests and leather boleros layered over lightweight overcoats pushed attention to the neck and shoulders.
There were flashes of humour and perversity: clownish trainers, yarn-spilling cardigans resembling animal carcases and floor-length leather tassels that erased the face entirely. Colours stayed mostly black, beige and brown, softened by butter yellow and muted pink. Punkish pastel skullets, heavy face-shield sunglasses and slow, ritualised movement sealed the cultish mood. Less alien than past seasons, perhaps – but still very much creatures from another dimension.
Photography by Christina Fragkou.
