Seán McGirr’s debut Alexander McQueen collection shown in February did not win over critics, buyers or social media pundits. In fact, it was ripped to pieces, causing such a savage backlash that you had to feel sorry for the guy — and a little worried for his mental health. But in May, when Lana del Rey showed up at the Met Gala after a six-year absence channeling “sinister Mother Nature” in a custom McQueen dress with a tulle canopy over tree branch embroidery, things started to turn.
Charli XCX made McGirr’s hoof boots part of her Brat girl summer, and Troye Sivan wore the smashed glass effect top for the London stop of his tour, starting a slow build of interest in the designer’s effort to shock the fashion cycle out of peak polish into something more dark and spontaneous.
During a preview, McGirr said that first collection was a sprint; he had only four weeks to complete what he calls a character study. Now that he’s had time to immerse himself in the archives and the workings of the London atelier team, “it feels way more solid,” he said.
His confident sophomore outing showed Saturday night for spring 2025 should silence those naysayers.
“We’re back in business,” I overheard someone say walking out of L’École Nationale des Beaux Arts after the show, which was attended by O.G. McQueen muse Daphne Guinness. Still a pro in those vertiginous heel-less shoes (how did she make it over the cobblestones?!) with her dagger-point black-and-white hairdo, she sat with Kering chief executive officer François-Henri Pinault and wife Salma Hayek in the grand glass courtyard in a quiet show of support.
Number one, this was a commercial collection, including a lot of romantic-meets-rock ‘n’ roll tailoring and shirting in black and white that should be the brand’s bread and butter, and enough cool evening clothes to keep the celebrity dressing machine humming. Number two, it had clearer links to the past. McGirr used as touchstones McQueen’s fall 1994 “Banshee” collection, his bumster pants, his love of Savile Row, wild nature and London underworld characters. But he modernized the aesthetic with a more wearable street-y nonchalance.
McGirr had his own London references — Jermyn Street shirt makers and military tailors, Victoriana, Etonian school uniforms, communion dresses, and East End kids “trying to be posh but failing,” he said. And Irish references, too. More on that later.
They all coalesced in a rush of strong shouldered blazers and coats with a signature twist-front silhouette mimicking the gesture of clutching a garment close in the cold rain; white shirting with extra long collars flopped and folded in front; punk-looking back kick flare pants; those infamous bumsters slashed over the buttocks and filled in with white ruffles, and everyday washed cotton trenches, bustle-back kilts and shrunken jackets.
“It’s strong energy, very visceral, mixed with these more formal references,” McGirr said of merging a biker jacket with an Edwardian frock coat, or corsetry with floaty shredded silk organza dresses grounded in clompy platform shoes or thick-strapped sandals.
While in the archives, McGirr gravitated to McQueen’s “Banshee” collection because he grew up in Ireland, often hearing tales of the mythical female spirits who augur death and are known for their long locks, which they are often seen combing.
He brought that into the collection’s fabrications, to lovely flossy shredded silk tops and underpinnings, hand-combed embroidered lace dresses and sets with a distressed effect, and to literal brush-shaped embellishments on handbags and as jewelry. It all built to the dramatic finale gown, a tangle of silver chains “like hair flying,” as McGirr said, worn by a modern day banshee walking barefoot down the fog filled runway.
With McQueen’s rich legacy, McGirr has a lot to work with. Now that he’s begun to immerse himself in the brand codes and is pointing them to the future, we’ll see if he also has McQueen’s creative vision to take us places we’ve never been before.
