Two thousand origami birds hung above Thom Browne’s runway—fluttery and poetic, but don’t be fooled. The show kicked off with two models in head-to-toe gray, folding more birds at a table in the middle of the set. For a second, I thought we were getting a subdued, monochrome Thom moment. NOPE. Turns out this was one of his most colorful collections in ages—think candy-hued bird motifs and specially woven heritage tweeds bursting with life.

Browne’s into birds. Last year, it was all about Poe’s raven (dark, moody, very on-brand). This time? He’d watched a 60 Minutes segment on birdwatching and ran with it. “With everything happening politically, I wanted it to feel hopeful,” he said. “Freedom to be expressive—to be YOU without listening to the noise.” A not-so-subtle nod to the fashion industry’s designer burnout (and all those high-profile exits in Milan and Paris). Browne’s message? He’s standing with the creators.

The bird theme started subtle—rounded silhouettes that mimicked the curves of wings and bird breasts (yes, I said bird breasts). But soon, we got embroidery and intarsia so detailed it could’ve been plucked straight from Audubon’s sketchbook. These decorated the loosest coats Browne’s done in a while (cue happy sigh)—chunky, cozy, and cut from tweeds so rich in color you could almost feel the wool. “Classic in idea, but not in execution,” was how Browne put it. Nailed it.

And then…oh boy, the color-block dresses. Strips of bias-cut satin stitched like feathers—sleek, simple, genius. And THEN came the pièce de résistance: thick paint blobs that, no joke, resembled bird droppings. Someone later told me, “Bird shit is a Thom Browne house code.” I mean, okay! House codes are weird, and I’m here for it.

Hope, humor, and (dare I say it?) wearable pieces—this show had it all. And that little birdcage centerpiece with mini Thom Browne inside? Turns out his high school mascot was a canary. “The only bird that can fly through a hurricane,” he said with a grin. I mean…same, Thom. Same.