Reinvention, Resilience and a Battle for Relevance: NYFW FW25

Backstage moment at Christian Siriano's Fall/Winter 2025/26 show at New York Fashion Week captures a post-runway gathering of models. Photo by Dimitri Rios ‘26

The snowstorm was only half the story. The other half was a New York Fashion Week that teetered between reinvention and regression, grasping for a sense of identity in a time where Paris and Milan dominate the conversation. 

The coverage swung between praise and disappointment, but if one thing was certain, it was this: Fall 2025 was a season of contrast, where the old guard and the new wave fought for space in a city still reckoning with its place in the fashion hierarchy.

Calvin Klein's return brought a distinct energy shift; Veronica Leoni’s debut collection for the house was met with a palpable sense of relief—finally, an American icon was back in the mix, proving that heritage brands still have a role to play in New York’s evolving fashion scene. 

Meanwhile, Marc Jacobs, a designer whose absence from the NYFW calendar in recent years left a void, presented a collection that was an ode to the city’s lost grandeur, reinterpreted with his signature theatricality.

But NYFW isn’t just about the veterans, it’s about the insurgents. Luar cemented its status as the defining voice of contemporary New York fashion with a collection that pulsed with the city's raw energy. Raul Lopez’s show, set in an industrial space, brought the downtown grit that many voiced was missing this season. If Paris has Balenciaga, New York has Luar, and the industry would be wise to rally behind it.

Collina Strada, ever the disruptor, offered a vision of wearable chaos with sustainability-driven ingenuity. At a time when fashion feels increasingly detached from real-world urgency, Hillary Taymour’s work remains one of the few that dares to acknowledge the messiness of modern life without descending into costume.

To get a sense of what NYFW felt like beyond the front rows and editorial recaps, I sat down to interview Dimitri Rios ‘26, a current intern at Christian Siriano, who worked behind the scenes during one of the most talked-about weeks in American fashion.

For Rios, the days leading up to the show were an intense mix of last-minute adjustments and precise craftsmanship. The studio in Soho buzzed with seamstresses ironing garments, adding volume to tulle skirts, fluffing ruffles and ensuring every stitch was perfect before the collection was transported to the venue. 

“Christian would come in throughout the day to approve finishing touches and decide whether a garment was complete and ready to be bagged.” 

The atmosphere was high pressure, but there was a quiet rhythm to the work, a shared understanding among the team that every detail mattered.

This was no coffee-fetching internship. Rios was deeply involved in the process, working with the garments from start to finish. One particular look required intense focus. 

“I created boning casings out of grosgrain, topstitched them together, mapped them out from the pattern piece, hand-sewed all the corners, tacked them with the sewing machine and then helped add the diamond trim through hand sewing.”

Beyond the technical work, the backstage atmosphere was something Rios hadn’t anticipated. “You might not expect how many photographers are there, or how many photos are taken during the backstage preparations,” he says. 

“It’s just Whoopi Goldberg a few feet away, taking photos with Christian, or InStyle interviewing Christian right in front of you, and you’re worried you’ll end up in the background.”

The experience gave Rios a new perspective on the industry, one that was both eye-opening and, at times, disillusioning. There was a bittersweet undertone to his realization, especially regarding New York’s once-thriving fashion infrastructure. “Honestly, it was a little depressing… I thought, ‘Damn, I hate the idea of sourcing in the Garment District. It’s so depressing. The Garment District is almost soulless.”

Still, despite the behind-the-scenes chaos, the endless peeling of plastic film off embellishments, and the exhaustion that comes with high-stakes perfectionism, something was thrilling about it all. 

“It shocked me to realize that certain trims or items I sourced would be used in garments made for celebrities. It’s crazy how connected everything is,” he says, emphasizing that Fashion Week isn’t just the perfectly curated show on the runway. 

It’s the hands that sew, the chaos that unfolds backstage and the people who make the magic happen before the lights go up.

NYFW has long struggled to define a singular aesthetic; this season made a case for a new kind of American pragmatism. Designers embraced fashion as both armor and expression, with Khaite and Altuzarra leading the charge with structured outerwear, imposing leather trenches and exaggerated shoulders, creating pieces that felt less like clothing and more like armor. Meanwhile, Michael Kors, Proenza Schouler and Tory Burch refined the language of neo-minimalism, where stripped-back sophistication took center stage. Precision tailoring and an almost monastic restraint emphasized a new kind of power dressing, one that spoke in quiet confidence. 

For those drawn to romance, Carolina Herrera and Rodarte delivered ethereal florals and dreamlike silhouettes, though not without a rebellious streak. Softness came sharpened with an edge because beauty in 2025 does not exist without a bit of bite.

Despite the high points, the conversation surrounding NYFW this season was laced with existential dread. 

New York has long been a launchpad for young talent, but the reality is stark: many of its most promising designers are choosing to show in Paris instead. Willy Chavarria, one of the city’s brightest menswear designers, took his vision overseas, while brands like Eckhaus Latta and Telfar remained off the schedule, leaving a noticeable void in the lineup.

What NYFW lacks isn’t creativity; it’s infrastructure. The absence of a centralized show venue, a fragmented schedule and a lack of financial support for independent designers continue to chip away at its global relevance. There’s an urgent need for industry-wide investment, not just in designers, but in the framework that allows them to thrive.

This season was proof that New York Fashion Week is still a vital, necessary force, just not in the way it once was. It’s no longer the polished, commerce-driven machine of the early 2000s; nor is it the underground incubator of the downtown scene in the 2010s. 

Instead, it exists in a liminal space, trying to reconcile its past with an uncertain future.

For NYFW to thrive, it needs to embrace what makes it different: its rebellious spirit, its independence and its ability to produce designers who challenge the status quo. The question isn’t whether New York can compete with Paris or Milan. The question is whether it even needs to.