With SS25 just around the corner, if you’ve forgotten what shows ruled the SS24 schedule then you’d be forgiven. We get it, it somehow feels like an age ago. Alas, before we head into next season, let us remind you of Glenn Martens’ NTS rave, Saint Laurent’s Berlin debut and Prada’s slime as inside HERO 31, we spill the tea on SS24’s most memorable moments.

From the ground they rose: a symmetrical grid of Dior models emerged through the tiled metal floor – beamed up into the show space as Primal Scream’s Higher Than the Sun began to take hold. Transcendence from every angle. Marking his fifth Dior anniversary, Kim Jones put on a show that epitomised his tenure at the Parisian house: cinematic, futuristic, exhilarating. Jones’ rising runway stars surfed a time-travelling wave across Dior’s esteemed designer lineage: Monsieur Dior, Gianfranco Ferré, Yves Saint Laurent, New Look and New Wave. Models left the way they entered, descending through our reality into their own.

Slime. Everywhere. Sticky, sloppy, oozing translucent green slime. Leaking from the ceiling and drip, drip, dripping alongside the runway before slowly coagulating in a futuristic pile of squidge. Soundtracked by Nine Inch Nails’ soothing A Warm Place followed by the band’s much more vivacious, Closer (Fuck You Like An Animal), Prada’s collection taught us that simplicity and structure can also be subversive – sexy, even. Functional, utilitarian coats in slick leather, classic shirt silhouettes elongated as dresses, super furry fishermen gilets and floral explosions bursting from shirt seams.

It started with shutting down central Paris and turning the iconic Pont Neuf into a giant runway, and ended with an impromptu live set by Pharrell and Jay-Z. Pharrell didn’t so much usher in his tenure as Louis Vuitton Menswear creative director – he unleashed it. Models drove buggies down the runway with LV trunks piled up on the back, the house’s iconic Damier design was remixed as a pixelated 8-bit motif, and LV footy shirts scored big. “If you want it, you can have it, if you need it, you can have it” sang the Virginian gospel choir, Voices of Fire, performing an original Pharrell collaboration titled Joy (Unspeakable).

Anthony Vaccarello presented Saint Laurent’s first show on German soil inside the walls of Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie, a minimalist, modernist pavilion housing iconic artworks from the likes of Otto Dix, Wassily Kandinsky and Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. Vaccarello’s designs waltzed to a rousing, electronic composition that tapped into the beating heart of Berlin’s nightlife culture – dramatic, draped black curtains lined the walls as models amazed around marble plinths, presenting an evolution of Saint Laurent’s tailored rigour: in exaggerated tuxedos, sheer shirting and maestro flute pants. In a tale of opposites – light and dark, classic and contemporary, minimalist and maximalist – Vaccarello dissected the paradoxical truth which underpins the most famous line of Oscar Wilde’s The Ballad of Reading Gaol: ‘Each man kills the thing he loves.’

Amid an open-air eight-hour-long NTS rave, Glenn Martens invited 7,000 party-goes to revel in pleasure and play. Encouraging Diesel’s crowd to relinquish inhibitions and embrace hedonistic whims, the hypnotic pulse of Sejan Jansen’s techno shook the ground as Milan’s heavens opened. Backdropped by a sky-high screen streaming clips from cult movies which were later parodied across t-shirts and laser-cut leather, Martens delivered a visceral ode to being the life and soul of every party. Models hit each beat as they paraded the 150-foot red-carpeted runway in shredded and spliced devoré denim, caked in cracked cement or lathered in shimmering spray paint as burnt-out garments flaked from bodies to reveal the skin beneath. As the last model walked, the rain came to a halt – as if Martens had ordered it from the powers that be.

Staged in the leafy courtyard at The University of Milan, Pierpaolo Piccioli used literature to explore Valentino’s evolving vision of masculinity, choosing Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life as his starting point. A novel riddled with abuse, trauma and violence, in the story’s four leading male protagonists Piccioli saw the resilience and vulnerability he wanted to imbue in his modern man. While models ascended the pristine white runway, musician d4vd serenaded guests with melodic vocals as quotes from Yanagihara’s modern-day epic – “We are so old, we have become young again” – danced across relaxed tailoring and understated suiting. Among storied stone pillars in the home of Italian scholars, Valentino dissected their linguistic ties to Roman masculinity – the house name connotes epithets of strength and vigour – distorting stereotypical characteristics with a gentle brush of sensitivity in a timely meeting of past and present.

It was on a stormy Parisian afternoon that Rick Owen’s army of models emerged from Palais de Tokyo in a cloud of billowing white smoke. Shrill, industrial beats tore through the fumes as models skulked around the fountain of Paris’ home of contemporary art in long, languid silhouettes cast in a hue dubbed “drama queen black.” This sense of dystopian elegance carried through towering hoods, pooling flares, chest-high waistlines and Lucifer-sharp shoulders. Insisting this season was an ode to jubilance and joy, Owens delivered happiness in a way only he knows how, populating the sky with fireworks erupting in vibrant hues of siren red, royal blue and canary yellow, as the designer’s monochrome world raged below.

Fendi took us on a tour through their brand new architectural leather goods factory, literally crafted into the Tuscan hills. As artisans were busy creating bags just like the ones held by models walking between the machinery and tables, their workwear, tools and craftful spirit were translated through the collection. Tailor’s measuring tape hung through the collars of worker overcoats, Fendi lanyard passes were clipped to pockets, branded coffee carriers safety transported caffeine hits and FF toolbelts swung across hips. To the buzzing, tech-y sounds of the factory at work, Silvia Venturini Fendi took her bow alongside the artisans who realised the collection – an ode to them, crafted by them.

This feature was originally published in HERO 31. 

model KIAN CLEATOR at CHAPTER MANAGEMENT;
grooming MAI SAITO;
set design NANA-YAW MENSAH;
casting ALEJANDRA PEREZ;
digi tech MATT TRAPP;
set design assistant ELLIS OWEN