London Fashion Week Review: Cathy Horyn on Burberry

Photo-Illustration: by The Cut; Photos: Courtesy of Burberry, IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara Findikoglu, Ben Broomfield/Courtesy of Simone Rocha

People in fashion worry about Burberry, and they especially worry about Daniel Lee, its creative director since late 2022. They worry, I suppose, because there are not many British brands with its international pull and history — arising, mostly, from a raincoat — and they want Burberry to matter, not merely succeed financially, as it did under Christopher Bailey. I liked Lee’s first show. Some of his British references were goofy, and he was all over the board, but he was aiming for a diversity that felt modern.

It was tough sledding after that. The clothes looked rich and remote with barely a pulse. Last season, at Tate Britain, we were plunged into a world of country house clothes, Saltburn meets The Gentlemen, with a vision that looked heavy and manufactured. People raved, which actually had me worried.

Finally, last night, the luxury fog lifted and Daniel Lee got real. We were in an open-air tent on the edge of Kensington Park with a packed-dirt runway and wooden block seats. Black Sabbath was on the sound system. With the first three looks — a green-and-orange plaid mini-coatdress, a denim trench with a light sheen, and a white crochet-knit shift — it was clear that Lee was stripping things back, going younger. Within a dozen looks, he had offered his version of a wardrobe: a terrific-looking skinny suit with slightly cropped trousers and a striped shirt, a lightweight classic trench (hooked over an arm and treated as an accessory), a brown leather car coat with fringe at the cuffs, and jeans.

Burberry Courtesy of Burberry.

Burberry Courtesy of Burberry.

The collection was loaded with separates rather than laden with fancy outfits that are hard to pick apart. Lee basically repeated himself after the first dozen or so looks, but so what? The attitude was right. Details and finishes, like a seemingly laminated gloss to jeans and some other garments, saved them from entering Coach territory, and the cut of a white cotton military jacket with matching pants looked sharp yet easy. He had trim leather bombers with slim pants, too. If Lee can keep this motor running, he might actually get somewhere — and we’ll be game.

Burberry Courtesy of Burberry.

Burberry Courtesy of Burberry.

Watching Burberry in the park, I thought of Aaron Esh, a young designer whose show on Saturday night in a clubby venue in the East End had exactly the same values. In fact, I thought a lot about Esh’s show over the weekend, in a remarkably strong London season. Without Lee’s need to be on-brand, Esh was free to make a wardrobe-based collection that was more authentically cool and personal. Among the standout looks were a bespoke suit in pale lilac mohair, trim bombers in leather or satin with wide waistbands (in creamy white with a slim matching skirt as a downbeat dress-up look), a safari jacket in rust-red suede, and a bias-cut, one-shoulder tunic in dark-brown jersey with black leather pants.

Aaron Esh From left: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron EshPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron Esh

Aaron Esh From top: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron EshPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron Esh

“It was hard put for a year,” Esh said of the work, adding that he was after a timelessness “without contriving that.” With more resources, Esh could no doubt push things further, but would you want him to? It’s rare to find a young designer with a solid foundation in cut and finishing who knows the body, whose clothes would look cool on a person of almost any age, and who seems confident in his own judgments. He knows quality, too, without the luxury ridiculousness. That’s enough to build on.

Aaron Esh From left: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron EshPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron Esh

Aaron Esh From top: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron EshPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Aaron Esh

Dilara Findikoglu drew a hard-core crowd on Sunday night to the ornate and moodily dark Ironmonger’s Hall with many in vampirish weeds, corsets, and spikes (hair or the metal kind). Among those in my room were Susie Cave, the model Lara Stone (in a white sheath clumped with safety pins), and Bobby Gillespie, a founder of Primal Scream.

It was hardly Findikoglu’s coming out, but it was her best show. She has always been amazing with the body, but the difference now is more craft — in particular, the opening white minidress that looked sculpted from silk; a wet-looking dress in beige, and the molded confections at the show’s end with superhero stature. Findikoglu also had a white dress stitched with bing cherries (leaving stains, naturally) and a handbag — a new item from her — filled with the fruit. The show had her sense of female power but she seemed to have resolved the rage, and that made everything much more interesting.

Dilara Findikoglu From left: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara FindikogluPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara Findikoglu

Dilara Findikoglu From top: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara FindikogluPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara Findikoglu

Dilara Findikoglu From left: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara FindikogluPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara Findikoglu

Dilara Findikoglu From top: Photo: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara FindikogluPhoto: IK ALDAMA/Courtesy of Dilara Findikoglu

A few young designers refined their style and storytelling, notably Paolo Carzana and Yaku Stapleton of the brand Yaku, both of whom have been supported by Paul Smith’s Foundation. Some of Carzana’s spare, gauzy dresses, in rich shades of blue, purple, and green, were breathtaking. One of his obsessions is to achieve the supernatural colors of the earth, and he did so with substances like salt, vinegar, seaweed and other plants. Yaku was a performance piece with about 15 models arriving skeptically at a make-believe place and becoming friends. Sounds like White Lotus? Hardly. Stapleton’s designs have a dystopian quality with oversize pants with ragged bits, camouflage elements, and moon boots that looked thickened with fabrics bits. But the clothes are nearly all commercial.

Paolo Carzana Courtesy of Paolo Carzana.

Paolo Carzana Courtesy of Paolo Carzana.

A question that Simone Rocha asked this season is, How do you make “old and fuddy” seem young and funny-delightful? The Rocha way is to take a 1950s couture frock and reduce it to a pastel crinoline and then add a sparkly silver bandeau. She also had adorable scallop-edged boxer shorts with an oversize black jacket that might have had a couture past. Rocha’s lighthearted collection was a teen dream, with plenty of separates, like flower-printed tops and clear plastic coats, and frothy dresses to inspire play. She listed Justine Kurland’s book “Girl Pictures” as a reference, but Rocha’s zest with couture trappings made the results look punk.

Simone Rocha From left: Photo: Ben Broomfield/Courtesy of Simone RochaPhoto: Ben Broomfield/Courtesy of Simone Rocha

Simone Rocha From left: Photo: Ben Broomfield/Courtesy of Simone RochaPhoto: Ben Broomfield/Courtesy of Simone Rocha

You don’t need to be familiar with the story of Helene Smith to know that Erdem Moralioglu was inspired by an eccentric. A molded off-white gown that flirts with 18th-century court dress and is embroidered in black with what appears to be hieroglyphics will tell you that. Smith was a French mystic, living more than a hundred years ago, who believed she had past lives — as a member of the French court, an Indian princess, and among Martians. It’s material for a collection about the invented self.

Erdem From left: Photo: Courtesy of ErdemPhoto: Courtesy of Erdem

Erdem From top: Photo: Courtesy of ErdemPhoto: Courtesy of Erdem

Moralioglu, who celebrates 20 years in business in 2026, simplified the court shapes, and used a rough linen that he modestly embroidered. There were also white cotton dresses (or tops with skirts) shot with metal, for a crumpled texture, and an extravagant coat in green satin. It was pure Erdem. But he ought to consider moving his shows out of the British Museum, away from artifacts.

From left: Photo: Courtesy of ErdemPhoto: Courtesy of Erdem

From top: Photo: Courtesy of ErdemPhoto: Courtesy of Erdem

Last Friday, shortly after I landed in London, I went to see Freddy Coomes and Matt Empringham, whose brand is called Aletta. They have a small studio at Sarabande, the foundation started by Lee McQueen, the patron saint of creative thinkers everywhere. One of the first things they showed me was a pair of black brogues, by the shoemaker Grenson, with a detachable upper portion as straight as a riding boot. Matt and Freddy are really drawn to Britishness but they keep their references far away.

Freddy said, “We decided to scrap any visual research because we found it wasn’t hugely productive for us, our process. Britishness, as a thing, is interesting, but when it is so visual it becomes a bit boring, at least to us.”

Matt said, “A lot of Britishness is held in conversation. It’s felt.”

That comes across in their clothes in a way that’s hard to pinpoint. Much of their design is incredibly simple in form but delivers in execution. For example, they came up with an elasticated harness top in black and also a navy dress that is essentially rectangles. The dress is then stuffed under the harness, the pressure from the elastic giving shape to the navy fabric. They also made a top with a neckline trimmed in elasticated grosgrain ribbon, its tension also producing a lovely effect. “It has that old found feeling that we like,” said Matt. So much of what is interesting in fashion, and in other creative fields, is personal. We forget how much comes from within and can’t be explained.