Dilara Findikoglu Fall 2025 Ready-to-Wear Collection
Up until about a week ago, Dilara Findikoglu didn’t even know she had a venue to show in London Fashion Week. Then she did—a bona fide dodgy-feeling warehouse which hosts Slimelight, the longest-running Goth club night in London. Climbing up through the cavernous floors, you were smacked in the face by a Metropolitan Police notice: VICE PATROL OFFICERS OPERATE IN THIS AREA. OFFENDERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.
Of course it was cold and damp, and raining and dark. Of course it was horrible to get there. Of course we had to wait for ages.
But then something so fantastical started to happen that you knew you were experiencing a legendary London fashion moment as it was happening. Prowling, other-worldly women, clad in hyper-corsetry and description-defying second-skin chiffon body stockings started stalking through. One was wearing a breastplate constructed of shells, pearls, and row upon row of silver safety pins. Others had fake hair—shaggily falling over shoulders, or tightly braided and trapped in tendrils under tight transparent layers. A powerful, self-possessed sexuality was on the loose.
Garments that could barely be called shorts or tiny skirts were cut away into deep pelvic V-shapes, and somehow mixed and merged with lace stockings. Obviously it was noticeable that some of these alien-romantics were famous: Lara Stone, Hannelore Knuts, Jean Campbell—somehow that was impressive, but also didn’t matter at the same time. More, you felt they were casting a collective spell while being totally singular. You saw why, backstage.Their orders read: MEDIEVAL ROCKSTAR, MOODY BUT ETHEREAL and DON’T GIVE A FUCK BUT HYPNOTIZE.
And they were hugely successful—maybe even on a par with the models who worked with John Galliano on his famous last Margiela show—but on no money, and from a female gaze. In her press notes, Findikoglu called it “a divine feminine mutiny.”
In the after-melee, she spoke about the show’s title, Venus in Chaos. “It’s about finding beauty through destruction. It’s kind of about my life—and everyone’s life too.” She described finding a new skin,” and how her tattoo artist boyfriend Jonah Slater etched the dark red, almost arterial-floral patterns flanking the astonishing tan leather body-sculpted finale dress crafted for her by Whittaker Malem. There’s still a massive amount to process, that will be talked about in weeks to come. How the Botticelli-goth hair and the eyebrowless, silvery eyes and lace-edged mouth were done, and much else.
But most of all, what will be remembered about this feat of near Paris couture-like quality is that Dilara Findikoglu did it to “push my own potential” at a time when everything is feeling at a low ebb. But that’s exactly what happens in London—the creativity of young designers burns brighter when the days are darker. You just have to push yourself further to find it.
