The Newgen catwalk space at 180 Strand has transformed over London fashion week: from Marie Lueder’s medieval rave to Tolu Coker’s West London council estate, and a runway strewn with eggshells for Pauline Dujancourt’s coven of witches. On the final day of shows, Oscar Ouyang claimed it for the ultimate after-party.
For his second on-schedule runway outing (and fifth collectsion overall) the Beijing-born, London-based designer imagined a young crew throwing one last blowout in their parents’ crumbling English manor, soon to be auctioned off, and the barn next door. (Sunday night in London was particularly party-heavy thanks to the BAFTAs, so this spirit was probably still being channeled in various storied hotel suites around the city.)
Ouyang’s runway debut last season, conceptualized as a moors-traversing hunting trip, was warmlys received for its dreamy yet technically assured knitwear, with muscular raglan sweaters, sinewy silk knits shot with gold yarn, and feathered short-shorts. For fall 2026, Ouyang seemed less concerned with staking a thesis and more intent on settling into his own cadence. “I wanted to take a softer approach to menswear,” he said at a preview. “I try to create pieces I need in my own wardrobe. I like to start from a place of desire.”
That instinct was manifested in a precise hand that balanced heritage and humor, rakish whimsy and folkloric as well as Savile Row construction. Heirlooms and gilded trinkets appeared lifted from the manor’s walls and layered over party wear and pajamas. “It was important to push the craft without feeling too done up or self-serious,” Ouyang said. Most of the collectsion was produced in Italy, with a supplier known for sampling for Prada. “We’ll send them a pattern and sometimes they’ll suggest a better way to do it,” he added, laughing. “I’m still learning.”
Military and varsity sensibilities and silhouettes persisted, gently subverted: tweedy knotted brooches; one-seam capes haloed in glinting yarn; Fair Isle shoulder straps and cinched waists; cropped jackets fastened with buttons salvaged from British Transport Police uniforms. (The magpie-like Ouyang sourced all metalware on eBay). French-cuffed rugby polos sat alongside joggers whose turned-out linings formed quite fabulous cummerbunds.
Strong hand-knit elements were buoyed by chunky Irish wool and luxury fabrics, like a dense llama, sourced from LVMH maison deadstock. A dense, “gothic Christmas tree” tinsel—impressively weighty up close—was paired with a navel-baring waistcoat. Elsewhere, evening shirts came rendered in almost diaphanous, fine-gauge silk-cotton knits.
Charm and playfulness abounded, particularly with a pajama print derived from scanned antique metal animal toys. Delicate metallic crocheted masks—some sprouting deer horns—were created in collaboration with milliner Noah Stewart, while oversized pom-pom trapper hats trailed floor-grazing tassels. That energy was charged by Ouyang’s continued partnership with stylist Jack Collins.
There was also a concerted push toward gender-neutral tailoring, with women cast alongside men. “I thought about people’s habits—how they’ll actually wear these pieces,” Ouyang said, demonstrating how a Nehru-collar waistcoat might be left open on one body and fastened high on another. “I love to give our man or woman that freedom.” Stocked at Dover Street Market and Selfridges—the former’s genderless merchandizing proving a natural fit—Ouyang has seen growing demand for smaller sizes from women. This season also marked the launch of the brand’s direct-to-consumer offering. In the runway’s crepuscular glow and with an edit of Pulp’s “Common People” closing the show, Ouyang’s glitching of heritage codes propelled us towards that morning-after claritys.
