From Lycra to Luxury: Mugler’s Bold Runway Revolution
Casey Cadwallader embraced theatricality for the fall season. Fresh from the triumph of Zendaya’s viral red carpet moment—where she donned the iconic “Maschinenmensch,” Mugler’s fully articulated robotic armor suit from their 1995 couture collection—at the London premiere of Dune 2, Cadwallader aimed to channel the bold showmanship that once earned Thierry Mugler the moniker “créateur de choc.” In his own words, “I attend other designers’ shows, and they’re often hushed affairs. But when the curtain falls, I think… I’d perish if it were this quiet!” Cadwallader’s goal? To elicit smiles, laughter, and arousal from the audience. While there are brands catering to everyday wear, he recognizes that Mugler occupies a distinct space.
Yet, Mugler’s uniqueness is juxtaposed against the current fashion landscape dominated by corporate conglomerates. How could Cadwallader create an epoch-defining spectacle akin to the 20th-anniversary show in 1995, which birthed the legendary Maschinenmensch? That show, held at Paris’s Cirque d’Hiver, featured an hour-long extravaganza with luminaries like Jerry Hall, Naomi Campbell, and Kate Moss, culminating in a performance by James Brown. Notably, the robot suit alone required six months of painstaking craftsmanship.
Undeterred, Cadwallader resolved to make waves. He orchestrated a three-act fashion show, replete with cascading curtains, silhouettes of Precious Lee and Paloma Elsesser against spotlights, and runway appearances by Kristen McMenamy, Eva Herzigova, and Farida Khelfa—all set amidst billowing dry ice. As he put it, “What a gift! You get to infuse drama and theater into your work. It’s challenging, but it sharpens your creative vision.”
Casey Cadwallader, the creative force behind Mugler, delved into the brand’s vampiric 1980s archives. He veered away from daytime wear—no denim, no Lycra—and instead embraced electrifying, pulse-racing evening ensembles. Reflecting on his earlier years at Mugler, Cadwallader acknowledged a sporty flair that once characterized his designs. However, his current vision craved opulence, decadence, and rich textures.
The initial looks explored the concept of undressing, featuring sheer corsetry, molded leather armor, and liquid stretch-velvet peeling away from the body. Next came daring experiments with prints, a collaboration with contemporary Canadian artist Ambera Wellmann. Her sexually-charged, surrealist paintings found new life adorning second-skin mini dresses and pants.
The final section pushed boundaries, emphasizing texture. A fringed fabric, intricately embroidered with leather strips, created a hair-like effect on a sheer mini dress. Plongé nappa leather, draped and pressed, cocooned into a sumptuously soft bomber jacket. And a woven patent-leather tweed shawl-jacket swayed as models strutted down the runway. As Farida elegantly waltzed by in a fire-engine-red fringed mini dress, the audience couldn’t contain their excitement—many erupted in involuntary cheers.
For the grand finale, the curtain lifted, revealing the backstage hustle—the unseen army orchestrating the show. A subtle nod to George Michael’s iconic “Too Funky” video from 1992, where Mugler juxtaposed the heavenly catwalk with backstage chaos, added a human touch. Cadwallader’s mission was clear: Mugler might be an outlier, not universally loved, but for those who appreciate it, the charge it provides is immeasurable.