Amid the mirrored reflections and hypnotic strings of Ange Halliwell’s soundscape, Sean McGirr ushered in a new chapter at Alexander McQueen during Paris Fashion Week. His Fall/Winter 2025 collection was not just a spectacle—it was a masterclass in romantic rebellion, channeling Victorian grandeur through the prism of contemporary edge.
Set within a surreal installation by Tom Scutt—where a fragmented mirror jutted out of a wooden stairwell like a wormhole—McGirr’s vision took form. Models emerged from this architectural dreamscape as if time travelers, donning garments steeped in dandyism and Gothic revival, yet tailored for today’s urban flâneurs.
“I’ve always seen the dandy as a symbol of radical self-expression,” McGirr said backstage. “There’s something wonderfully subversive in the idea of dressing with deliberate elegance in a world obsessed with minimalism.” His inspirations ranged from Oscar Wilde’s philosophies to Charles Dickens’s Night Walks, both of which were subtly etched into the collection’s DNA.
The show opened to an unexpected cheer—an audible affirmation of McGirr’s growing confidence at the helm. The first model appeared in sharply tailored peak-shouldered outerwear, complete with a delicate lace ruff and extreme point-toe boots. It was a striking prelude to what followed: a dramatic tension between opulence and anonymity, grandeur and grit.
Richly embroidered cloaks shared the runway with crystal-studded masks, while Philip Treacy’s sculptural hats added a theatrical twist. Collars were pleated like storybook pages, sleeves elongated in exaggerated silhouettes, and shoulders pinched into Victorian contours. Everywhere, there was a sense of characters—not just clothes—striding across the Jardin des Plantes’s extended runway.
Yet beneath the historical motifs, McGirr delivered subtle provocations. His reinterpretation of the classic McQueen skull—once a cult symbol of the early 2000s—is now back in the spotlight. Once favored by tabloid-era It-girls, the scarf reemerged as both nostalgia and commentary—a cheeky nod to fashion’s cyclical nature and the cultural mood that surrounds economic uncertainty. Some might call it coincidence. Others might say it’s recession chic.
Beyond accessories, McGirr blurred the binary through styling. Bomber jackets and sweeping capes shared identical bullion embroidery. Corseted dresses with sheer lace layers and visible hook-and-eye closures brought an Elizabethan spirit into dialogue with modern sensuality. His flâneurs, inspired by Wilde and Dickens alike, wandered not just through old London but through shifting ideas of gender, identity, and beauty.
The collection’s final looks—a series of intricately pieced shearling jackets resembling angel wings—captured the surreal heart of the show. They were garments made for metamorphosis, echoing Wilde’s words: “I am tired of myself tonight. I should like to be somebody else.”
But this wasn’t just about costume or drama. McGirr has managed to ground his theatricality in a sharp sartorial language—one that speaks fluently to red carpets, streetwear enthusiasts, and cultural critics alike. After Miley Cyrus made headlines in one of his embroidered gowns at the Oscars, McQueen’s new era is clearly gaining traction beyond the runway. In his third outing for the house, McGirr seems to have fully inhabited his role—reviving not just silhouettes, but a spirit. A spirit that says, in the words he borrowed from Wilde: “Be thyself.” With this collection, McGirr isn’t just designing clothes—he’s building a world, one mirrored portal at a time.
