Jonathan Anderson’s sophomore Dior Men’s collection brought us back to 2016 and 1916
Military jackets are here to stay
WOW, it does feel like 2016 again doesn’t it? I say this because the dominating silhouette over at Jonathan Anderson’s sophomore menswear collection for Dior was razor slim (at least in the jeans and what looked like knit long johns); it took me back to when Dior Men’s was known as Dior Homme a decade ago under Kris Van Asche. This has nothing to do with the baggy versus skinny jean discourse (it’s cold in the ground), but it’s a shift made so early in his tenure from the wistful reinterpretations of the archives (like the Delft Bermuda Shorts) of his debut last June, and the baroque gilets of his pre-fall collection. This felt like Anderson getting his freak back – we missed it.
While the internet has been chasing the feeling of 2016 for the past several weeks since the new year, here, for autumn/winter 2026/2027, the northern Irishman’s mind has been in 1916, specifically on the work of couturier Paul Poiret. For context, Poiret is the type of designer that svelte worldly rich women wore; his ornate designs came from a life-long fascination of North African, Middle Eastern, and East Asian textiles. We see this in the two opening looks of beaded absinthe and amethyst tank tops, like the bodice of a Poiret dress cut off to wear as a singlet.
I suppose the throughline of Anderson’s collection so far has been playing with signs of affluence long gone. This stands in contrast with some of the other major brands this season, since Milan, who have just caught on to the Japanese sensibility for “good clothes”, i.e. what wealthy people wear today as elevated essentials with a twist. But the anachronistic wealthy person Anderson chose as his muse this season? The flanêur (unemployed folk, and always men, who used to wander around cities and observe the chance of urban life), who Anderson has armed here with satchels made of cashmere.
But this is where Anderson gets freaky with his references. Fur cuffs on overcoats (which Poiret used to trim the lapels and cuffs of his evening coats) were comically blown up to the point it would render its wearer immobile – the greatest sign of wealth. Parkas that cocooned like opera coats. Brocades were aplenty as capes layered on double-breasted coats, pleated at where the elbows would arch for a ballooning effect.
But where Anderson comes out most – and what makes this collection feel all the more 2016 – is the English tailoring. Days before the show, attendees received accordion pleated collars as the invitation (it pairs well when you’re about to eat from your perspex egg plate that was the debut invite). The collars naturally showed up in the collection too, sprouting out of morning coats and military jackets buttoned up to the top.
A note on the hair, by Guido Palau, there were two camps: blown up like Beethoven or Roy Lichtenstein blonde with a DIY fringe.
While Anderson finds himself across the channel, is the splendour of Haussmann’s Avenue Montagne, his heart is also in Ireland. How he’s injected his homeland at the maison is naturally in the fabric: his continued plumbing of his truncated bar jacket is made from Donegal tweed. The hallowed New Look also gets rougher this season with a distressed, aged denim version. This is only the second show, but it seems like Anderson is settling in just fine.
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