A perfect phrase slipped out of Steven Stokey-Daley’s mouth mid-preview, the kind of line that makes you stop, blink, and then immediately write it down: “It’s un-messed-about wardrobe bangers! That’s what I want to do, really.”

Honestly? A bold mission statement in an era where fashion seems locked in a never-ending battle of who can be the most unwearably absurd. Everything’s overstyled, over-the-top, performative to the point of exhaustion—so there’s something almost revolutionary about just… making good clothes. Clothes that people will actually want to wear.

And so, enter S.S. Daley’s latest collection: clean, utilitarian spins on what he calls “British archetypes.” (Which is fashion-speak for “stuff that’s been around forever but still hits.”) He started listing them off on his fingers like a checklist: “Trench coat, duffle coat, donkey jacket…”

Nearby, fittings were happening—a head-to-toe cream, red, and black check suit and matching trench coat with a deliciously 1970s feel. Then a beige Harrington jacket (sleeves turned up, obviously) with checked boxer shorts. And on the racks? A full buffet of women’s tailored jackets, cropped bomber-duffles, a donkey jacket that already felt like a cult piece, and tailored Bermudas that were set to be the breakout look of the show.

But let’s not downplay what was really about to happen. Because Stokey-Daley wasn’t just sending out some nice coats and calling it a day—he was about to pull everyone into a nostalgia-tinged emotional rollercoaster, the kind that sneaks up on you and leaves you unexpectedly wrecked.

It kicked off with an absurdly posh 1960s British Movietone voiceover, rattling off a greatest-hits list of London landmarks (Big Ben! The Tower of London! The absolute majesty of British civilization!)—the kind of thing that every Londoner pretends to cringe at, but secretly adores. And then, just as we were all settling into that warm bath of irony—BAM: Pet Shop Boys, “West End Girls.” A gay disco anthem from 1984. Pride in every possible sense of the word.

“Honestly, it just felt right,” Stokey-Daley said after the show, still looking a little misty-eyed. “To show and celebrate being in London.”

And then came Marianne Faithfull.

A peacoat and frilly blouse, a direct homage to that late-1960s photo of her. He didn’t want anyone to think he was hopping on some posthumous bandwagon, though. “Maggie Smith, Kate Bush, and Marianne Faithfull have been the three women who’ve always meant so much to me,” he said, almost defensively. And when someone asked how he felt about designing for women (since he started with menswear), he just laughed: “My whole life has been women. My family is all women. My friends, the people I work with—it’s all women. And honestly? It’s so much fun.”

This blend of classic Britishness but make it fresh is second nature to him. It never veers into stuffy territory because it’s always anchored in something—this season, that meant colorful, felted, painted coats and totes inspired by 1920s Scottish artist Francis Cadell. And, crucially, it’s not just about Gen Z. There’s no chasing TikTok virality, no desperate attempt to impress the fashion youth.

And even though he absolutely gutted the room by playing Marianne Faithfull’s “The Ballad of Lucy Jordan” for the finale (OH MY GOD), there was no actual melancholy in the clothes. They were sharp. They were wearable. They reminded everyone of what British fashion can be—when it’s not trying too hard.

And here’s the kicker: this approach is working. “I think it’s interesting,” Stokey-Daley mused, “because season on season, we’re growing—in a shrinking climate.”

Now that is a flex.