Fashion week used to be simple: a runway, some flashing lights, a celebrity in the front row pretending they weren’t bored. But 2025? No, darling. Now you need a Google Calendar, a VPN, and possibly an egg basket just to keep up.
Let’s be honest, if Demna had staged a straightforward catwalk, no one would be talking about it. The clothes would walk, the people would clap, and the memes would die before they were born. Instead, we get cinematic fever dreams and Gucci moments that feel suspiciously like Balenciaga-in-Tom-Ford-drag. Between Demna’s experiments and Gucci’s déjà-vu theatrics, we’re all tuning in from our couches, whispering: “Haven’t I seen this collection before… just darker?”
Then there’s Glenn Martens, who decided a catwalk wasn’t enough. No, he gave us an egg hunt. Forget where’s the model? the real question was where’s the exit? It was part show, part Easter Sunday, and entirely cardio workout. The industry applauded, mostly because no one knew what else to do with a catwalk littered with props that looked like Fabergé’s fever dream.
Meanwhile, creative directors are swapping seats faster than musical chairs at a children’s party. Every brand has a new name, and every press release reads like a blind date setup: “We’re excited to announce X as our new creative director.” Yes, congratulations, now please remind us who X is before the applause dies down.
BURO’s fashion critic, Annalyse, naturally, has a word to say: “This season isn’t just about clothes walking down a runway honey, it’s about experiments and moments you can’t quite explain to your grandma. It’s fashion playing director, choreographer, and occasionally, jester.”
We’re all for change, but let’s not forget what luxury actually means. Right now, it feels like it’s all about the buzz: the event, the memes, the plot twists. But who exactly are we doing this for? Gen Z? Fashion insiders? Or just anyone scrolling on Wi-Fi? Between cinematic catwalks and scavenger-hunt theatrics, it’s worth asking: are we truly pushing creativity, or just chasing clicks?
But let’s give credit where it’s due: fashion is pushing itself this season. Formats are getting stranger, staging is getting bolder, and the industry seems determined to outshine itself, sometimes literally (looking at you, sequins that require sunglasses indoors). Still, beneath the theatrics, there’s a creeping sameness: a Gucci show that smells faintly of Balenciaga, which in turn recalls Tom Ford, which makes us wonder if originality is the new vintage.
In short, fashion week is no longer about clothes, it’s about plot twists. Is your favorite house streaming on Netflix or staging an obstacle course? Who cares. Sit tight, refresh your feed, and hope your Wi-Fi doesn’t crash. This season, the drama isn’t on the catwalk, it is the catwalk.
