Jonathan Anderson’s Dior really lost the plot. Or did we just missed the way?

With his debut collection in June last year, Jonathan Anderson had us stumped, but we thought it was better not to be too obvious with our feelings. Simply put, although it was not a Dior we expected or deeply admired, we let it be. We thought it could be due to debut nerves. Mr Anderson has had the luxury of time to acclimate to the atelier, but his just-shown autumn/winter 2026 collection was sophomoric shudders. It seems to us that someone within his team tried to sabotage him. Surely anyone sensitive to refined luxury that stays clear of the garish could see that this collection was aggressively flamboyant, minus the self-awareness that usually makes such excess charming. We get the Boy-George-at-the-Hacienda vibe, but what’s it doing at Avenue Montaigne? One SOTD reader commented to us, “他得罪了谁? (Who did he offend?)”

The show started on a wrong note for us. No, not the first of the indie-ish soundtrack, Alexis, by L.A. musician Mk.gee (who made Mr Anderson’s acquaintance in his hometown not too long ago). Rather, it was the lurid tank top with the fake art deco composition of lace and sequins that got to us. This was very Mustafa. Or, if a more upmarket comparison is required, a fashion student discovering and dabbling in luridness for the first time. Mr Anderson wanted to chuck the calculated surrealism of Loewe—we understand, but the deliberate attempt at ugly-chic that did not land, we do not. Even mullets in the yellow of SpongeBob SquarePants were surface level provocation, if you can even call them that. This was truly Loewer than expected. We did, however, admire the sheer athleticism required to limbo under a bar that he has dipped to barely floating above the floor.

Talking about bars, Mr Anderson sure churned out them bar jackets. This time, he made the pieces shorter, with the molded hips now rising higher, above the natural waist, which made some of the models looked pregnant or, at least, with the illusion of a protruded mid-section. When worn with skinny pants that recall the razor-skinniness of Hedi Slimane’s Dior Homme, the effect was awkward silhouettes, and a sudden, urgent need for a very large, very opaque coat. It is not clear how the men’s truncated Bar jacket will fit any wardrobe beyond the corner for ‘special occasion’ dressing. Seriously, how easily does it integrate into everyday wardrobes? Unless styled for editorial shoots or red-carpet eccentricity, it is hard to see his Bar jacket turn into ‘modern classics’, even if, in one case, a denim version was offered. Regrettably, denim is not always the solution when a garment screams to be ‘modern’. Sometimes, a silhouette requires the precision of a scalpel, not merely the dutiful hand of a petit main.

Our problem with the collection was that Mr Anderson tried to cross every ‘t’ and dot every ‘i’, and ended with something not very legible. The brand keenly alleges that amid the hotchpotch offerings, “the Dior aristo-youth emerges: precise tailoring, exuberant detail and a blurred line between masculine and feminine.” Marketing speak for unisex ornamental bewilderment? We wonder what Jacques de Bascher, if he were alive today, would receive from Karl Lagerfeld if he appeared before the latter in the flamboyant pieces from the Mr Anderson’s collection? “Don’t be foolish. Go change. You’re better off in YSL”?

To us, what Dior posited was aristo-camp. But what Jonathan Anderson proposed was not over-the-top, self-aware irony. It was little more than a starter pack to try edginess. Some people say that this was his “gayest” collection to date. There is, however, a stark difference between intellectual subversion (at Loewe) and theatrical posturing (at Dior). At Loewe, he often tapped into a deep, queer intellectualism—reimagining craft, gender-fluidity, and the body in ways that felt fresh. Now, what we got were tank-topped Bollywood dancers and, with those printed capes, The Great Leon at a Las Vegas revue. Had the poet become a costumer instead? Avenue Montaigne deserves a better class of chaos.

Screen shot (top): dior/YouTube. Photos: Dior