What if fashion could be heard? What if the audience couldn’t see it — just had to imagine it through melody? In that case, Richard Quinn’s Spring/Summer 2026 collection, recently shown at London Fashion Week, would sound like a soprano hitting a high C, a cello sliding into darkness, violins trembling like tulle. A clear choir bringing light into the room. An aria that paints theatrical romanticism, sculptural eveningwear, and sensual drama.
Titled A Night at the Opera, the show by the British designer was less runway, more gesamtkunstwerk. A full sensory performance staged on Saturday night inside St John's Smith Square, a former Baroque church turned concert hall. Beneath crystal chandeliers and surrounded by swag curtains, the models made their way across a beige carpet while the English Chamber Orchestra performed haunting compositions that made time stand still for a moment. Vocalists accompanied the models – or perhaps vice versa – in what felt like a duet between couture and crescendo.
In true London fashion, the British icon Naomi Campbell opened the show in a deep-black velvet gown: statuesque, regal, and unmistakably Quinn. What followed was a procession of silhouettes that felt like they had just stepped off the stage at La Scala or the Bolshoi: gowns sculpted with corseted bodices, tightly cinched waists, and voluminous skirts that ballooned inward like tulips, often framing the ankles like petals right before bloom. Some pieces were translucent and ghostlike, evoking The Phantom of the Opera — just without the scary mask. Others were so densely embellished with crystals or flowers they seemed to glow under the lights.
The palette Quinn chose moved between strict black and white, deep marine blue, and dramatic punches of blood-red found in bows and lips, before softening into powder pinks and creamy whites, tones that felt like an octave, creating strong contrasts while still seamlessly blending together.
And while the designer presented several contemporary yet romantic takes on bridalwear, some of the most striking moments were tucked between them like well-kept secrets: A dress defined by its clean yet sharply feminine silhouette, embroidered like an incredibly expensive and sparkly chess board. A look with an elegant train, its white detailing at first glance resembling a crisp shirt collar – but on closer inspection unfolding into a perfectly crafted rosette. Or, a standout gown appearing in light pink, bell-shaped, with a daring front slit that revealed cascading layers of black tulle – a modern fairytale dream for the high-society debutantes of New York (we’ve all seen the TikToks).
As you can already see, every detail was hypnotisingly precise: white satin necklines, elbow-length gloves tailored from deep black velvet, tulle skirts, crystal chokers, and oversized flowers. Hair was swept into elegant updos, echoing nostalgic glamour. Quinn paid clear homage to 1950s couture, but with his own subversive sensibility – mixing structure and sensuality, romance and restraint. So much for opera being boring.
At the same time, though, following each piece through the captivating performance might stir memories of Demna’s strong, abstract silhouettes. The bows and powdery colours may even bring to mind Karl Lagerfeld’s Choupette. But make no mistake: we’re not looking at old Balenciaga or Chanel designs here. We’re looking at Richard Quinn, and perhaps we should be doing that more often. Because A Night at the Opera feels like a reminder of just how beautiful, modern and mesmerising elegant, high-quality tailored eveningwear can be.
So, while the soprano stopped hitting a high C and the cello played its final tones, the overall melody of the collection lingers, looping endlessly in the mind, impossible to shake off. And to return to the question from the beginning: if fashion could be heard, Richard Quinn’s new collection would be an earworm. As simple as that.
