Whenever there’s a lot going on in the world, Torishéju Dumi reckons we all need a little loving armor: If getting dressed is one way of forcing order on chaos, so is making clothes.
The first look here, an homage to Dior’s Bar jacket, is “almost like a cocoon, a cage,” Dumi offered. And those whorls at the front of the shoulders? She sees them as “horns moved to the front of the jacket, like a cloak.” But she’s open to alternative interpretations, like maybe black holes.
“I can’t create a world without taking into account what’s going on around me. It happens viscerally, unconsciously,” she said. “But I don’t create things that are a negative reaction, it’s more of a reaction to a weird, strange, Lynchian place we’re in right now, so if it’s a black hole, I want to see what’s in there.”
She achieved that look’s graceful shape, in denim worked on the reverse face, thanks to old-fashioned canvas and horsehair. But the idea returned in other materials, like boiled wool or shearling skirt suits. (“I love the idea of not needing a coat,” the designer offered.) A suit in black corduroy is paired here with a white funnel-neck shirt, a carryover from her first collection. A knitted, draped dress made from deadstock landed the minimalist trend with a twist in back: like the yellow mohair tartan dress that follows, it is spliced together. “I wanted to create pieces that had a sense of uncanny oddity, but at the same time elegance,” Dumi explained. Yes, a tartan skirt came with a petticoat—another carryover from her spring 2025 “Ship of Fools” collection—but she swears it packs light.
Even in a season of trompe l’oeil layering, some pieces came with more sleeves than one might expect. A cardigan style had four sets: the ones for the arms, plus others that can adjust around the neck, waist, and hem. A corseted dress-coat bustier gown also riffed on that theme, its sleeves a flourish to tie over the bust or in back. Dumi also leaned into craft; she produced a chunkily knotted silk top and skirt with help from her mother, a shared labor of love that, thus far, remains a one-off. That kind of handiwork, with humble materials and bold volumes, is why Torishéju took home the LVMH Savoir-Faire Prize last year.
Somehow, it’s not surprising to learn that she attended drama school from the ages of 8 to 17. Later, she taught a costume course at the London College of Fashion, so her obsession with 18th- and 19th-century costume comes with hands-on experience. “It’s about world-building,” she said. “When you take apart different layers it’s like giving costume a bit of modernity and it becomes special, real and alive. I think that’s why we create.”
