Fashion Writing

By the time Thom Browne’s Fall/Winter 25/26 show began, the vibe was already somewhere between fashion week and full-blown theatre. Thousands of paper origami birds hung above the runway like they were mid-flight, and in the middle of it all? A tiny Thom Browne figure, yes, a mini Browne, in a literal cage. Drama? Of course. This is the Thom Browne we are talking about.

Maybe it was the Doechii Grammys sweep still lingering in the air (she did wear custom Thom, after all), or maybe it was the fact that this city needed a little escape, but the show delivered... Hard. It started out slow. Two models, dressed in black-and-white uniforms like chic little worker bees (or perhaps birdwatchers?), sat onstage folding more paper birds. A quiet ritual before the chaos ensued. Then, the runway came alive.

Feathered lashes. Mouths covered with beaks. Sharp silhouettes. The models weren’t just walking, they were morphing. The whole show was full of birds as metaphors, and Browne wasn’t being subtle about it. “Because of politically what’s going on, I wanted it to be a hopeful kind of reference,” he said backstage, because fashion isn’t just fashion anymore; it’s politics, protest, poetry, and yes, birds.

If last year’s show was goth and moody (shout-out to Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven), this one was unexpectedly... optimistic? Even vibrant? Browne cracked open his famously greyscale world and let some technicolour dreams in. Think pastel tweeds, bright blues, juicy red and yellows that practically glowed under the runway lights. Jackets had exaggerated shoulder pads that mimicked wings, coats puffed out like plumage. The looks were less Upper East Side and more psychedelic bird parade.

And the crowd? Mesmerised. Editors whispered; stylists took frantic notes. A few people audibly gasped when a model swept past in a towering cape constructed entirely of layered tulle feather, dyed in a gradient that looked like a parrot from another dimension. There was something in the air that felt different, like we’d all been let in on some strange secret, a peek into Browne’s subconscious. The whole ‘breaking free’ energy felt personal. The mini Browne trapped in the cage wasn’t just a prop. It was a metaphor, a self-read, maybe even a confession. Browne, the king of structure, the ruler of tailoring, the guy who made funeral grey sexy, was playing with chaos. But don’t get it twisted, the craft was still impeccable. Every stitch, every hem, every bizarre, brilliant detail screamed Browne. He just decided to get weird with it. And it paid off.

“Browne, the king of structure, the guy who made funeral grey sexy, was playing with chaos.”

The models weren’t just styled, they were transformed. Hair slicked into sculptural crests, faces half hidden by beaks (creepy, yet weirdly chic). It was giving bird cosplay but make it couture. Accessories included cage-like hats and talon-esque shoes. At this point, why wear heels when you could just wear bird feet?

And while the fashion crowd loves to talk about ‘narrative’ and ‘silhouette’, what really hit was the feeling. The show didn’t just look cool – it felt like a release. Like Browne was asking the audience: What if we just... let it all go? What if the cage isn’t real? By the final walk, it was hard not to be emotional (yes, even at fashion week). The models glided under the bird cloud and the lighting made it look as if the whole flock was moving together. Every feather, every model, every stitch – was flying.

There’s a reason Thom Browne remains one of NYFW’s most anticipated names: he never phones it in. Whether he’s channelling Poe, caging himself in metaphor, or literally reinventing the bird, his shows are a reminder that fashion can still surprise us. So yeah, Thom Browne went full bird mode. And while the whole thing could’ve veered into kitsch or concept-overload, it didn’t. It worked. Because when a designer known for control decides to embrace chaos, it doesn’t feel random or performative, it feels brave.

Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to glue some feathers to our lashes and rethink everything we thought we knew about tweed.