If you haven’t seen Masha Popova on the London Fashion Week schedule for a minute (18 months, but who’s counting), you’d be forgiven for thinking things went… quiet. They did not. At all. Turns out, stepping off the seasonal show hamster wheel didn’t slow her down—it just freed her up. Since then she’s been dressing pop stars (Charli XCX, Blackpink’s Lisa—casual), teaming up with Desigual on her first proper commercial collaboration, and basically not coming up for air.
Here come the Harris Reed brides. And they did not tiptoe. In the freshly reimagined ballroom at Claridge's Hotel, four of them moved down the aisles wrapped in veils the color of magenta lipstick, cerulean sky, and seafoam dreams. This was the debut of Reed’s Fluid Bridal—four silhouettes, four moods, zero interest in playing it safe. There was the Camille, inspired by the sheer, slinky bespoke wedding dress Reed first made for Camille Charrière; a Chantilly lace, crystal-dusted cowl-neck shirt with flared pants that nodded to what Reed himself wore to his wedding; and the Debutante, complete with the house’s signature bubbly fishtail hem. These are brides who want drama, who want fantasy—more mermaid than anything tethered to a fixed gender.
This season, Natasha Zinko did something both totally wild and completely obvious in hindsight: she hired her parents. Oleg and Margharita. Both in their 70s. Full-time, last-minute, no pressure contributors to the collection. In the usual West London studio chaos—machines humming, fabric everywhere, someone always asking where the scissors went—you could find them screwing hardware onto platform combat boots and crocheting sock-boots literally 24 hours before the presentation. Meanwhile, her son Ivan was nearby, putting the final touches on the show notes. Three generations. No boundaries. Very on brand.
Joseph is back on the runway. For the first time in almost a decade. Let that sink in for a second. The last show was September 2017—under Louise Trotter, who is now, casually, at Bottega Veneta. A lifetime ago in fashion years. Since then, the company that Joseph—built from a London hairdresser’s into a serious ready-to-wear name in the ’70s and ’80s—has been… let’s say, struggling. Quietly. Persistently. The kind of struggle that doesn’t scream but definitely hums in the background.
So. Bora Aksu. Ghosts. Obviously. Not long ago, he was wandering the halls of the George & Dragon—this old 18th-century coaching inn in Buckinghamshire—and honestly, I can picture it so clearly it kind of rattles me. Dim corridors. Creaky floors. That feeling where the air feels… watched. He was looking for his next muse and—oh boy—he found her. A barmaid named Sukie. Two hundred years ago. Beautiful. Desired. And doomed (because of course).
