Tom Ford SS26

CO-ED | PARIS

Under a cinematic sea of moonlight, Haider Ackermann conjured a dream that throbbed with desire and discipline. The show unfolded in a deep, glossy void, a backdrop where touch becomes instinctive and the collection takes precedence. Models slinked in languor, loitering with suggestive glances, advertising themselves to onlookers and each other. “Seduction is dialogue.” Ackermann took this quite literally with his sophomore season: desire was to be exchanged in the silence between looks.

In an opening image reminiscent of a Ford film, a bright spotlight pierced through the darkness as sharp, lacquered silhouettes emerged: mesh trench dresses in patent leather zings of emerald green, rouge, and onyx black. They prowled with unapologetic sensuality, all eyes on them, and they knew it. Tease was the trend. As our characters moved, slits opened; skin was exposed beneath lace, bras under suit jackets and curves beneath silk. The body was x-rayed through sheer chiffon and wet, translucent (very short) shorts, revealing black jockstraps beneath. Yet nothing felt gratuitous; the tease was artful, calibrated to make you lean in, not look away.

If Ackermann’s debut championed sharp tailoring, this season it was his titillating interplay of lingerie and suiting that truly captivated me: suits sauntered in brushed satin and sturdy leather while lace entwined with the latter in the classic slip dresses. As for something more formal, plunging evening dresses wrapped around the body with wiring, such as the asymmetrical cut on Loli Bahia, like an arm slenderly slung around her neck. What caught my eye especially, you ask? Well, if there’s a shining hope for magazines to come back, it’s the glossy black crocodile handbag, with a slot that can make any folded publication a fashionable accent. There were so many moments I saw echoes of Ford’s own ‘90s hedonistic codes, refined through a masterclass of flou, colour, and tailoring.

If Ford is sex, Ackermann is sensuality, a match made of pure desire. Desire itself has become a code of this brand, with each season translating the urge into a tangible form with brilliance. The collection thrummed with stimulation in every sense, from the sweat-like sheen of materials, the flashes of vibrancy, to “Grab Me” embroidered across a pair of velvet loafers. Less provocative, more suggestive, Ackermann taught us desire shouldn’t be beckoned, but seduced.

In only two seasons, the designer has accomplished what few successors could in four - make Tom Ford his own without losing its heat. His vision is a shining example of brand evolution that couldn’t be executed better: intelligent, firm, and oh so tempting.

*****