August Barron’s spring collection was a triumphant synthesis of the work they have done since their second show, for spring 2023. That one, presented at the Collège-lycée Jacques-Decour with each model as a debutante on a round platform, had the air of a high school prom. This collection, Walk of Fame, was held at the storied La Cigale theater and was more of a spectacle, part French cabaret, part American pageant.
Benjamin Barron and Bror August Vestbø are what might be called character designers; they create collections around a composite figure of their own imagining, like the bored housewife of spring 2026, or a pop cultural icon like Working Girl’s Tess McGill (spring 2025). The duo broke the fourth wall with Allina, an imaginary pop star on the wane, by releasing an album under her name, which was produced by the indie pop act Smerz, who modeled as part of the cabine last night.
The main takeaway from a pre-show call with the designers was that this season they imagined a cadre of different sorts of fame hunters. They were of a type, however, and recognizable to August Barron aficionados—glam and chaotic. “This character has always existed in the same place, but through different eras of time,” said Barron, who noted that there were many types of garments referencing various eras. “This character feels somehow a bit more mature and I feel like she’s dealt with the world a bit more. It’s not as naive,” said Vestbø. “We wanted there to be a bit of a melancholy feeling at all times; even if it’s energetic, there’s an underlying sadness to it.”
As they were building out the theme, the pair watched any number of movies relating to Hollywood—Sunset Boulevard, Boogie Nights, Hollywood 90028, All That Jazz, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, Cabaret. The last is especially up August Barron’s alley; the designers are interested in the elusiveness or the decay of fame, the wearing away of its gold plating. Their magic is the ability to capture that process in their garments.
“A lot of the clothes in the collection are about this in between of getting the part and getting ready for the part,” noted Barron. “It’s someone who’s always preparing for a show that never starts.” Yet they need to be in a state of constant readiness, able to transform from sweaty to spectacular in the blink of the eye (sort of like Tess McGill trading sneakers for stilettos). This was a very active collection, both in the way motion was captured in cloth and the references to sporty dressing. Shorts were shown with glitzy tops and dresses with hoodies. Maillots shapes appeared. Frederick’s of Hollywood-style platforms were worn with striped gym socks. The unexpected gym references felt Jane Fonda-ish and very California. Playboy bunnies were in the mix, their wired ears an homage to those that appeared in Marc Jacobs’s fall 2009 Louis Vuitton show and which Madonna later wore to that year’s Met Gala. A ruby-studded dress nodded to Judy Garland. Marilyn Monroe would have been 100 this year, and the dress in a state of perpetual suspension captured the upwind movement of her Seven Year Itch subway grate moment. Oversize bustiers were representative of, Barron said, the “disconnect between what you want to become and what you are.”
This show hit hard in part because this gap between image and self is so exacerbated in a digital world, one seemingly populated only by main characters. The way these designers are able to capture and glamorize glitches feels both human and star-dusted.
