Hillary Taymour called the show The World Is a Vampire and, honestly… where’s the lie. Nobody in the room was about to argue—least of all the Collina Strada girlies she gathered up tonight, half of whom were wearing her signature bug-eye sunglasses indoors, at night, like absolute pros. Commitment to the bit. Respect. Taymour has always been very good at this part—the world-building part. From the bug sunglasses to the bug rings (collectible! obsessive! slightly unhinged!) to shoe collabs with Puma, Vans, and Ugg, she’s built a whole ecosystem. A universe. The Collina Stradaverse. It’s weird, it’s specific, and you clock it immediately—which, let’s be honest, is the hardest thing to do right now. Also: backstage she casually dropped that business is up 95% on Shopify. Casual vampire win.

The clothes leaned hard into witchy, gothic drama—Dracula ruffs, Victorian puff sleeves, trains that felt a little extra, a little theatrical, very soul-sucking moment we’re all living through, as she put it. But she wasn’t just casting spells for vibes. She was very intentionally stocking the closet. The sheer floral dresses, the little peekaboo slips—the dreamy, romantic stuff that actually flies off the racks—were right there in the mix. “It’s almost wedding season,” she said, very plainly, very practically. Translation: please come into the store and buy the dresses. You saw it here. You can get it there. (Which you can, because she opened a Collina Strada shop on Canal Street last year, like a real person with rent to pay.)

The runway-to-real-life pipeline here is… refreshingly straight. No smoke, no mirrors, no “this is just a concept.” Which might explain why J.Crew tapped her for that recent rollneck sweater revival—she understands clothes as products and ideas. And she’s still pushing the sustainability side, too. On her own turf. Taymour used bio fluff—this biodegradable fur made from recycled hemp, viscose, and Tencel—which she said is a New York Fashion Week first. “You bury it and it will die,” she noted, cheerfully. Which, frankly, feels preferable to the plastic faux-fur situation that keeps multiplying under the guise of being “fur-free.”

Stay weird, Hillary. Honestly. We need it.