Documenting Disorientation, Decay and Destruction at SS26
- Ruby Ann Robison
- 9 minutes ago
- 5 min read
According to NYFW, if there is a future, it is not one of rebirth or transformation — but of oblivion.
The cries this season are loud as ever about the death of New York Fashion Week. It is an event for an industry increasingly dominated by large conglomerates and content mills, featuring collections showcasing luxe variations of the same ensemble: an expensive-looking figure-flattering pant and a vaguely interesting top, the go-to outfit of wealthy white women dominating New York City living and snagging every Greenwich and West Village apartment. According to Rent Hop, the average rent for a Greenwich Village studio in October 2025 is $4860, a nearly 40% increase over the last three years. In the West Village, the average studio is $5000 a month, a dystopian 70% increase since 2022.
SS26 is primarily catering to the uniform of the new generation of New Yorkers taking over the West Village, as outlined in Brock Colyar's article “It Must Be Nice To Be A West Village Girl,” published in The Cut earlier this year. It is a polished look with something expensive to say, but not anything particularly interesting, leaving viewers, critics, and New Yorkers alike searching for something more. One could argue that the New York of independent, working-class artists and laborers who fiscally and socially dominated the city's landscapes is dead, like many facets of modern American identity and industry. Fashion, like all media, is a reflection of the culture it is produced in. The broad strokes of current New York culture fall into a revived dadaist realm, from constant content creation, transplant champagne socialists, up-and-coming literary figures building careers on the provocation of absurdity, and the infringing use of a fascist politic as a semiotic device.
Historically, NYFW is known for its modern sportswear and its ability to innovate minimalism, simultaneously appealing to workaholics, materialists, and grunge enthusiasts. Beyond the sea of heavily reported boring luxury, though, there are shows highlighting the cultural and aesthetic tension of New York in this present moment. A distinct visual language has emerged on the SS26 runway in response to the growing monotony and cultural dissolution associated with New York City. On the runway, excess serves as a celebration, highlighting the spatial and social disorientation of an ever-growing population, illustrated with high shine textures, feathered accents, and massive proportions.
Shows like AREA have leaned into the absurd aesthetics of wealth and spectacle, showcasing high-concept collections filled with surrealist pieces. The show notes at Nicholas Aburn's AREA debut last week are a collection of musings about the constant mobility of New York social life, and a celebration of the disorienting nature of getting ready for a never-ending party. “New York, an American city. Beautiful, despicable.” By the end of the mini screenplay unfolding in the show notes, the narrator monologues a series of questions: The first is “What if I never stop getting ready?” ending with “What if the confetti never stops falling?” to which the narrator finally answers “Even if it's over, I’m ready.” The show begins with black, then white looks consisting of hoodies and turtlenecks — staples for any New Yorker — accented by silver, highly reflective materials. By the end, dresses are multicolored or entirely made of silver material, a perfect look for the girl who never stops getting ready. She’s over the top and always pushing the envelope, always ready for what's next, even if it's already over. The Area runway creates a distinct mix of textiles and proportions for a Bataillean party girl's existential-crisis-turned-celebration. Aburn shows viewers they cannot escape the speculated downfall of New York, but must plunge toward it with complete boldness.
Where Area sees evolution, designer Grace Ling sees tensions between future and history. Instead of showcasing excess, the garments emphasize expansion of form and reduction of space. In the SS26 collection titled “Future Relics,” Ling creates an archive for the future, combining minimalist silhouettes and monochrome palettes with ultra-modern textures. The opening look worn by East Coast native Debra Shaw consists of a metallic 3-D printed top resembling a flower and a long skirt that slinks with her as she walks. Ling’s collection plays with negative space, utilizing unique cutouts and button configurations to highlight what gets left behind in the absence of fabric. Another standout is a recurring textile in the collection with a burnout effect, causing variations in sheerness and opacity throughout a singular garment. The closing look is also a 3D printed top that looks as if it has been forged from fire and welded to Abény Nhial’s body. “Future Relics” is brilliantly of the moment; it captures this point in time where visual language and artifacts are constantly being generated and erased, proving that the only time is now. By combining the ideas of ancient and future, a living archive is walking down the runway, transcending time and trend.
Deconstructed garments were a central component at many NYFW shows, but Who Decides War managed to strike a unique balance of flashy excess and raw materialism this season. Their SS26 collection, titled “Read the Room”, consists of a series of looks envisioning fashion from the point of view of a decaying house. Even the title and concept alone are suggestive of the complicated state of New York City's affairs regarding social events, housing, and fashion. The housing crisis in New York is at an all-time high: natives have either been pushed out of family homes due to gentrification or are watching those homes crumble. Those who strike out on their own for housing make due with the decay of a poorly maintained home. Who Decides War showcases clothes that are deeply textural — rich, romantic forms start from a place of restraint, then completely dissolve into the spectacular chaos of material deconstruction. Look 44, worn by Grace Seeger, calls to mind a fallen crystal chandelier, while look 21 (Bernard Amoah) evokes a well-loved leather chair. A concept that could easily become cloying never does, as designers Ev Bravado and Téla D’Amore remain true to their vision of rugged American textiles, highlighting the beauty in the chaos of decay.
Designer Meruert Tolgen also calls on the viewer's notion of time through her SS26 collection, featuring 21 looks of flawlessly tailored garments in a neutral color palette. Her clothes conjure a dark fairy tale, where the heroine's disillusion with pastoral life leads her on a path of feminine destruction. Tolgen relies on the re-imagining of vintage lingerie silhouettes and jackets to create an aura of darkness that never feels heavy, as garments are deconstructed and then reconstructed. Her use of volume is simultaneously enchanting and disruptive, while the era of the clothing is eerily unplaceable. The result is a collection that feels otherworldly, as if the cottagecore girl from Hudson Valley moved to the East Village and became a communist. Tolgen has provided a very grounded collection for the disenchanted New Yorker's delight.
While many collections explored destruction through concept and form, there is no speculation about what comes after. The process of life after decay remains in the dark. According to these collections, if there is a future, it is not one of rebirth or transformation, but one of oblivion. If New York Fashion Week really is dying, it is because the seams of New York City life are ripping. Its artists are disillusioned and disoriented; they have the style to prove it. 🌀
Ruby Ann Robison is a multidisciplinary artist originally from rural Oregon. She has lived and worked all over the United States as well as in Amsterdam as a writer, model, actor, and media researcher. Her creative process includes socratic seminars in the back of an Uber and sleeping 10 hours a night. Links to a variety of her works can be found on Instagram @darlingmsbaby.