"Sunday best" is a phrase that usually applies to February, when fashion month brings the impeccably dressed out of hiding after a long spell of bitter winter (and/or biblical rain). To the well-trained eye, however, something is afoot this season, because instead of being pressed and polished, A-listers are emerging looking decidedly more undone. Alex Consani was recently stopped shopping in New York, and she looked pleasingly messy, wearing jeans that were baggy, ripped and picking up muck from the pavement. Then Odessa A’zion sat front row at Coach, wearing a beaten-up suede blazer that almost looked water-damaged, with an authentic mottling on its lapels and pockets. Call it dishevelled, messy or just real, but as of now, there’s no shame in looking ever-so-slightly unkempt.
Take Timothée Chalamet. The Oscars 2026 hopeful can’t reshape his moustache without commentary, meaning his appearance is finely tuned, even intentional, by habit. So when he was recently spotted in Paris wearing a bomber jacket with a distinctive stain on its right shoulder, you'd have been forgiven for thinking it was laundry day, but it was supposed to look dirty. Chalamet’s jacket encapsulates a new mood, where dishevelled is hot and polished is not. It’s one that feels light years away from quiet luxury, whose embodiment of pristine eventually became soulless, the predilection for cream-and-cashmere perfection borderline creepy. In contrast, the "messy woman" (or man) is more authentic—not to mention cooler—with a sense of perspective that prefers the lived-in over the immaculate.
Dishevelled is hot and polished is not. The 'messy woman' (or man) is more authentic—not to mention cooler—with a sense of perspective that prefers the lived-in over the immaculate.
The messy woman’s modus operandi was mined for spring/summer 2026, with a handful of designers exploring her dishevelled yet somehow elevated aesthetic. At Aaron Esh, jeans weren’t just lived-in but artfully dirty, with a daubing of smudges. Their owner doesn’t wash or even spot-clean their denim, letting its surface become a gently-soiled tapestry, each stain a proof of wear. Acne Studios' denim was distressed as hell, whilst one leather blazer looked heavily rained on, more like a family heirloom than fresh off the runway.
Back to Chalamet’s jacket. It's by Adon, costs £2800 and is completely sold out. Made in England, its website specifies that, "variations in appearance will develop with time due to hand stained and coated nature of the material." Still available is a Mud Work Jacket, made of denim that is mud-dyed over six months in Japan, as well as Broken Leather Trousers, which have been repaired using an obvious cricket stitch. Tyler Chin, GQ’s associate commerce editor, wrote about Chalamet, Adon and the jacket he described as "intentionally dingy". Speaking to Who What Wear UK, he said, "People seem to love buying clothes that come pre-distressed. I think it comes from a place of wanting their clothing to feel well-loved as soon as they put it on for the first time. Stains [and] wear and tear all add stories to a piece, even if they have nothing to do with the person who's actually wearing it. Is it stolen valor? Maybe, but worn-in clothing offers a sense of casual living that you just don't get from wearing something in pristine condition."
Prada’s recent menswear show contained "anti-pristine" details that became the talk of Milan. Gabardine car coats looked purposefully threadbare, with a peeling effect that migrated along the seams. Another was stained on the reverse, like its wearer had sat on a rusted bench during his lunch break. The most talked-about detail, however, was the cuffs, which poked conspicuously out of coat sleeves and were stained with something. Espresso? Good old-fashioned dirt? Who knows, but it definitely scored a point for the "messy" school of thought.
Chin’s take was that this presents a kind of flash-forward, giving potential buyers a glimpse of how these clothes might eventually appear. "The inclusion of pieces that feature manufactured wear offers viewers [an idea of] what clothing can look like when actually lived in," he says. Perhaps it even was making a statement about how you should love what you buy enough to wear it a lot. "Rather than being precious with the clothes we wear, especially if from a luxury fashion house like Prada, we should be actively living in the pieces we add to our closets."
There’s already evidence that shoppers are on board. At Loom, the upcycling app connecting shoppers with designers around the UK to give existing pieces a new lease of life, customers come armed with "wear-and-tear" requests. "It’s less about patchwork or repair, and more about controlled imperfection—subtle dye irregularities, softened seams, ombré effects or selective abrasion that makes a garment feel lived-in whilst still luxurious," says Daisy Harvey, Loom’s founder. For example, "A recent customer asked us to re-create an ombré-dyed blazer inspired by early-2010s Hugo Boss, using colour wear-in rather than distress." She believes it’s all part of a wider trend; not so much "messiness" but "anti-newness". "Imperfection, wear and individuality aren’t flaws anymore—they’re part of the design language," she says.
The "frazzled English woman" is worth mentioning here, as she’s a stone’s throw from the messy girl. But whilst the former is associated with chaos, her messy sister is knowing and deliberate. (Call it organised chaos.) A good starting point to get it right might be your beauty routine. From delightfully messy brows at Ann Demeulemeester to escaping side-swept fringes at Tory Burch, hair in particular wasn’t glossy, blow-dried or strand-perfect for S/S 26.
At Dries Van Noten, hairstylist Olivier Schawalder had a particular reference point when he gave certain models a mini fringe, straggly lengths and buns that were almost knots using Oribe’s Dry Texturising Spray. "It was a mix of a beach vibe and a music festival in summer … It’s 4 am, and she has been dancing all night." The Proenza Schouler A/W 26 show, meanwhile, showed a novel application of lipstick: one smear on the upper right lip, and one more on the bottom left, as if it were applied in the back of a cab whilst going over speed bumps.
Of course, brands have occasionally been criticised in the past for peddling "dirty" clothes for exorbitant prices (it’s also ironic that people who drop serious cash on "mud-caked" trainers have the privilege of being able to wear them without any judgement), particularly designer labels that perhaps haven’t approached these details with a sense of craftspersonship or appreciation for the materials, unlike Mayhew, a brand showing as part of Fashion East, whose founder’s background in painting and decorating informs his design perspective.
But let’s be real: even with this new iteration of "dirty", the average person won’t be resting their tea-stained sleeve on the boardroom table, subtly whispering, "It’s Prada" to anyone who looks alarmed. Instead, it’s perhaps about being less hard on yourself. A wrinkled shirt is no longer a sign of laziness. A ponytail that isn't perfectly sleek but more of a tumble can signal personality. And jeans that show signs of wear at the knees, having softened over time, are the goal.
A wrinkled shirt is no longer a sign of laziness. A ponytail that isn't perfectly sleek but more of a tumble can signal personality. And jeans that show signs of wear at the knees, having softened over time, are the goal.
The Barbican has just closed an exhibition called Dirty Looks, a fascinating deep-dive into "the many ways in which fashion has embraced 'dirty' aesthetics, from the poetic and the political to the subversive and humorous." One of its curators, Karen Van Godtsenhoven, has a theory about why the aesthetic has cycled back around at this point in time. "I think the resurgence has to do with our dematerialised/AI-driven lifestyles and the longing for imperfect, handmade and analogue work, things which are lived-in rather than algorithmically produced and programmed," he says.
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