October 7, 2025 |
Thom Browne comes in peace. Or so said the silver-painted men in matching skirt suits who opened the SS26 show like statues dragged straight out of Area 51. They carried mysterious cards (invitations? warnings? greetings? greetings indeed; the cards read “I come in peace”) before randomly dispersing them amongst guests seated along the perimeter of the gilded ballroom. The atmosphere: somewhere between Versailles and Venus.
Then – boom – the mothership landed. Out stomped a crystal-encrusted alien with tentacle sleeves, accompanied by a soundtrack that was equal parts Attack on Titan battle cries, alien giggles and those little green dudes from Toy Story cooing “oooooh, ahhhhh.” If you weren’t already questioning reality, you were by the time the sausage-dog bags trotted in.
Clothes were cranked to maximum warp: patent-leather red coats were layered over striped suits and layered over yet more suits (tailoring inception). Pleated skirts revealed hidden stripes, bubble skirts hovered like UFOs and a few of the models grew extra trouser legs from the waist down. Elsewhere tweed tailoring was spliced with gauzy gossamer – froth sprinkled over checks like interstellar star dust.
Colours were positively cosmic – reds, yellows, gaseous greens, all punctuated by sequins cascading like satellite signals. One jacket dazzled in tricolour gradient; another looked tinfoil-wrapped as if straight out of NASA. Thoughout, Trompe l’oeil bodysuits, both painted and crystallised, turned the human torso into celestial sculpture.
Feet were either strapped into knee-high lace-up trainers or teetering 12cm above Earth in platform boots, wobbling magnificently.
By the finale – another multi-limbed alien waving appendages at us – it was clear. Browne’s SS26 was out of this world. A close encounter? Absolutely. Terrifying? A little. Chic? Unquestionably. Take us to your leader.
Photography courtesy of Thom Browne.
