Simone Rocha came in at full gallop this afternoon and, honestly, it felt like being swept up into something half dream, half fever vision. She does this thing—quietly, meticulously—where she gathers references that feel distant, emotional, almost mythic, lets them sit and steep forever, and then releases them all at once in a setting that makes you forget where you are. “I’m hoping it will feel like a big visceral feast,” she said backstage before the show. And yes. Feast is the word. Once everyone found their way into the venue, there was no easing in—we were off.

The collection’s heart beat around Enbarr, the all-white horse from Irish mythology—the only creature said to carry you to Tir na nÓg, the land of eternal youth. Light, purity, escape, longing… all of it wrapped into one symbol. That idea framed both the opening and closing looks, set against the beautifully crumbling grandeur of Alexandra Palace, which somehow made everything feel more urgent, more alive. The color palette pulled from the paintings of Jack B. Yeats—soft, earthy, weathered—his visions of Tir na nÓg hovering in the background like a memory you can’t quite place. And then there were his sisters, Lily and Elizabeth Yeats—dismissed by James Joyce as “the weird sisters” (rude, honestly)—who helped anchor the early-20th-century silhouettes: tea dresses, shimmering cloche hats, boxy shoulders, wide wool trousers. Old, but not dusty. Historic, but breathing.

Two more touchstones kept bubbling up. Mike Newell’s Into the West—that 1992 film that also circles Enbarr and Tir na nÓg—and Perry Ogden’s Pony Kids, which documents Irish Traveller communities and their deep, generational bond with horses. What really stuck for Rocha was the friction—and closeness—between that heritage and the worn-in language of sportswear. That overlap became the emotional logic for her new Adidas Originals collaboration, which was threaded directly into the main collection rather than tacked on. “I wanted this mythicism cut through with reality,” she said. Something she’s been seeing in her head for years. And suddenly, there it was.

And somehow—it worked. Like, really worked. One look in particular (number 37, if you’re keeping score) stretched that idea to its furthest edge: an ivory paper-nylon dress with picot edging, angular panels, a ruffled bib, and a Rocha-redesigned Adidas trefoil. On paper, that sounds like a collision. In context? No strain at all. The same went for lace-waisted, side-split track jackets and ruffle-front track pants—they settled into Rocha’s world as if they’d always belonged there.

One of the strongest bridges between worlds came in the form of those furry split snorkel hoods—black or white—attached to Rocha-shaped MA-1 jackets in olive nylon. Sometimes the hoods were detached entirely, worn like collars over everything from chalk-stripe suiting split down the front to crinolined gowns held together with hooks, eyes, and scarlet ribbon. Which brings us to the ribbons. Oh god, the ribbons.

Rosettes ran absolutely wild through the collection. One supreme show-pony dress appeared to be built entirely from long, ribboned rosettes. Two olive taffeta dresses each embodied a single imagined girl-as-rosette. Even pockets were sculpted into ribbon-knot shapes at the hip, like prizes sewn directly into the body of the clothes. Winning, but make it emotional.

There was contrast everywhere—shiny grommets and harness-like hardware clashing beautifully with the raw animal heft of a dark shearling gown, plus shearling collars and gloves that felt almost feral. More classic shearling coats and jackets anchored things, grounding the prettified sportswear underneath and giving the eye somewhere to land. The whole thing—this mash-up of weird sisters, pony kids, Celtic myth, and Adidas—sometimes felt almost out of control. Eclectic. Borderline untamed.

But here’s the thing: even at full speed, Simone Rocha never lets go of the reins. The ride was wild, yes—but it was guided. And that’s the magic.