By the time the first look for the Balenciaga Winter 2025 collection arrived on the runway, an unsuspecting black suit and tie, guests — at least the ones beside me — were slightly confused. “I think that was just an usher,” one of them says jokingly. Indeed, with the music already at a dramatic interval and at the speed at which the model walked, one would be forgiven to assume that it was just a staff caught making a last-minute exit from the venue.
But that blatant resemblance to something you would see in real life, also not so distant for the guests in Paris that Sunday evening, was part of the abstraction Demna was trying to create. It was, as he calls it, the standard — an imitation, adherence and comparison, as the show notes suggest through a copy-paste of its definition from perhaps dictionary.com.
The following looks were as lifelike as imitating streetwear could get. Now, we’re not talking reworked tees branded with Balenciaga logos or an exaggerated hoodie with humongous shoulder pads. Instead, it was a snapshot of the things people wear on the streets of Paris (maybe even all of Europe) journaled look after look, as though Demna himself grabbed these “models” right off the pathway outside the venue moments before the show started.
Some of them appeared like an Uber Lux driver sporting a wrinkled suit, a motorcyclist who hadn’t had the time to remove his helmet, an office, Severance-type worker walking home from his job in La Défense, or an avid Puma fan (the collaboration for the season). These Madame Tussaud’s-level of imitation felt like a hard reset for Demna’s Balenciaga, because for the first time since disassembling the fabric of street fashion, first with Vetements and now with Balenciaga, the creative director has chosen to honour the inspiration that has helped form the person he has become — a true full-circle moment.
While many have criticised Demna for his disregard for reality, pushing the image of the brand further from where it was, the Balenciaga Winter 2025 collection and its motivation to not impress anyone felt surpassingly whole. It was imitation as the highest form of flattery, and so real that it somehow became higher, more important than itself. After all the time we’ve spent dwelling on being the imitator, maybe it’s time we become the imitated — is that not the same thing art critics confound themselves with every day anyway? Either way, Demna says it’s time we be real with ourselves.
Once you are done with this story, click here to catch up with our March 2025 issue.