There is, generally speaking, zero appetite for ultra-formal evening wear at London Fashion Week. Like… none. Except—always, reliably—for Richard Quinn. Every season, without fail, he sends out these glittering, almost defiant processions of ballgowns, and every season it feels like him calmly saying: this is what I do. No pivot. No irony. No apology. “We always look at our business as making beautiful gowns for women at these amazing events of their life,” he said backstage. Weddings. Big occasions. Someone else’s once-in-a-lifetime night. That’s the brief. Period.

It’s not that other London designers avoid eveningwear—far from it. Everyone from Harris Reed to Roksanda, Erdem, Simone Rocha, and newcomer Patrick McDowell all have their own takes on dressing for special moments. The difference is Quinn isn’t interested in subverting the category. He’s not winking at it. He’s not deconstructing it. He’s speaking directly to women with classic tastes—and doing it unapologetically.

This season, that meant 44 looks. Forty-four. Highly constructed, heavily embellished, starting in stark black and white before drifting into red, fuchsia, and soft pastels. Flowers—always flowers—appeared everywhere: diamanté brooches pinned just so, rose and forget-me-not garlands circling crinolined skirts and corseted bodices. It was romantic, formal, and completely out of step with the rest of the week. Which is kind of the point.

Quinn’s silhouettes cycle through decades of old glamour—’50s to ’80s couture, old Hollywood fantasy—but the business itself is surprisingly grounded. It’s built on an actual atelier and real client services in South London. No smoke and mirrors. No “show pieces.” “We sell everything we show on the runway,” he said, explaining how each look can be adapted, fitted, reworked. There’s a proper bespoke couture arm to what he does. “Beautiful gowns for beautiful occasions,” he added. “Things that can be passed down. Heirlooms.” Which—wow. When was the last time anyone said that without irony?

If owning this lane means stepping away from the seasonal fashion conversation the media likes to have—what’s new, what’s now, what’s disruptive—Quinn seems totally fine with that. The fetish cats and gimp masks are long gone. What’s left feels closer to a very old British tradition. Where Savile Row quietly makes bespoke dinner suits for men who don’t care about trends, Richard Quinn does the same thing for women, just louder, shinier, and once a season on a runway.

Watching his fall show wasn’t about imagining street style or Instagram moments. It was about picturing a very specific world: gala dinners, corporate banquets, ceremonial halls, palatial staircases. Places where dress codes still matter. Where tradition hasn’t been diluted. And while most of London Fashion Week races ahead, Richard Quinn stays exactly there—holding space for that world, unapologetically.