The air was heavy with incense at Dilara Fndkolu's show. As models walked the floor, one attendee whispered, "They just looked into my soul."
The models slinked down the center of the church, touching their fingers on their hips and cheeks. It was almost enough to distract me from the very good clothes, like opening model Hari Nef's look, which involved coming-undone business attire, sheer corsetry, and latex opera gloves. Some models held bags that looked like folded newspapers, with the headline in all caps: " Dilara is Doing a Satanic Orgy at a London Church."
Dilara Fndkolu.
Fndkolu told me that she thought the show was a mass ritual to end toxic masculinity. She wrote in the show notes that the collection was a manifesto for a world order that was born out of an onslaught of feminine energy. Dilara Findikoglu.
The 37 looks had a title. Nef's was called Female Territory, Look 3 had a newspaper clutch, and Look 32 had a headpiece made of silver keys and a skirt. Dilara Fndkolu.
Fndkolu didn't think about the corporate world but also the local pub. Dilara Fndkolu created the look that followed.
Dilara Fndkolu.
Fndkolu is creating a universe where it is not necessary to empower women by putting them in clothes made for men. It is the kind of world I want to live in, with the kind of plucky clothing I wish I could wear everywhere.