Given that previous John Alexander Skelton shows have taken place in the crypt of St. Pancras Church and the shadowy corners of a 17th-century Fleet Street pub, it’s easy to associate the designer with a certain brand of Dickensian gloom. But while Skelton is often inclined to spin a rich and theatrical yarn around his collections, the essence of his appeal lies in the clothes themselves—hold one of his shirts or tailored trousers in your hands, and the extraordinary craftsmanship and timeless textiles look and feel just as arresting as any of his runway spectacles.
Hence why it felt especially cheering to see Skelton gravitate toward something a little lighter and brighter this season—all the better to let his star pieces shine. Across the collection were wonky polka dots, seersucker stripes, and louche silk scarves decorated with graphic thistles, while the unusually vibrant color scheme cycled through everything from punchy scarlet reds to breezy French blues. “There’s a particular mood to my clothes, which can be a bit dark sometimes,” Skelton acknowledged. “I felt the need to do something a bit more uplifting. Really, I design things because I want to wear them, and I genuinely was just thinking about what I’d want to wear in the summer.”
Still, this wouldn’t be a Skelton collection without something of a backstory. There was a throughline from the British folk history he explored in his previous collection, which took Neolithic sites in the Orkney Islands as its starting point. Here, that was translated into the gorgeous botanical wood-block prints and horticultural embroideries that spread their tentacles across shirts and cardigans. This time, though, the outdoorsy spirit was one firmly rooted in the present day, and more specifically, in the ever-growing appeal of allotments.
“After last season, I kept thinking about people being connected to nature and how it might benefit society at large,” Skelton explained. “I was thinking: How is that possible in a modern context?” (The lookbook was photographed by Skelton’s ongoing collaborator William Waterworth at a community garden in the suburb of Herne Hill with sweeping views across London—a place both “peaceful and very much removed from the city,” in Skelton’s words.)
Look closer, and Skelton’s topsy-turvy instincts become evident. Utilitarian fabrics that you might associate with workwear or gardening—think hardy canvases and cotton twills—are instead cut into spiffy blazers and pleated trousers. Meanwhile, more delicate, refined fabrics—like silks and artisanal linens—are used for more practical pieces such as scarves and boiler suits. “If I’d tried to do a collection based on gardening quite literally, it would have been quite boring,” Skelton observed. “I like to disrupt things and use fabrics that aren’t for their usual intended purposes. I like that tension.” Even within Skelton’s Edenic paradise, there was something subversive at work—and in his competent, alchemical hands, it produced immediately desirable results.
