BEEP BEEP: Rick Owens' Goon Squad is coming to town

​​Rick Owens called his FW26 collection Tower, and the silhouettes took that instruction literally. The show opened, as tradition dictates, with muse Tyrone Dylan’s bare, glossy torso cutting through the fog. Like in the Gothic era, everything rose upwards, elongated lines stretched bodies vertically, the models looming architecturally over the smoky runway.

Owens has been refusing a single position on how to address the state of the world right now. He started with stripping epaulettes from jackets to avoid overt military references — a sensitivity many brands conveniently ignore, as uniform dressing cycles back through trends like indie sleaze. But Owens also felt that if a particular motif makes you uncomfortable, that might be something to address, so he resorted to satire. That’s what you do in the face of fear. Police boots are blown up to cartoonish proportions. Materials stronger than steel — often reserved for armed uniforms — are repurposed into fashion. The references become “grotesque in a way police brutality can be.” The message feels clear: if you can’t dismantle power, mock it.

The collection makes an army of outcasts, as usual. Owens’ instructions to his casting director weren’t simply to find “weirdos”, but something far more specific: “Egon Schiele crack whores.” But it loans to be an Egon Schiele crack whore, at least when you live in Rick Owens ecosystem. People who once appeared as e-commerce models are now, ten years on, contributing as makers of the collection itself. Hand-crocheted silk-cashmere knits were created with Sarutanya, a long-time collaborator who has been modelling for fittings and working with the brand for over a decade. Hand-tufted silk and cashmere jackets were developed with Paris-based textile artist J. Trofimova, who once interned at Owens’ Concordia factory before launching her own practice.

The most memorable moments came masked. Hand-tied macramé face coverings, each made from thousands of metres of waxed cord and over 30 hours of work, hung in front of the faces, as if dragged through the underworld and back. Designed in collaboration with London-based designer Lucas Moretti.

The hair and makeup looks were created in collaboration with Berlin-based digital artist Figa.Link, and leaned full dystopian glam – yet gave the collection colour. Chelsea mullets were bleached to oblivion, ends dyed like radioactive jellyfish. Lashes were long enough to brush the smoke away; brows stayed religiously pale.

Owens knows the world is bleak, but refuses to face it without humour. He ended his press release with an omnious… honk? “WE ARE THE GOON SQUAD AND WE’RE COMING TO TOWN BEEP BEEP.” Consider us notified.