Dubai Fashion Week SS26: A City in Contrast

The week opened with colour and heritage. Rizman Ruzaini drew on the Malaysian rainforest, hibiscus reds heavy with gold embroidery, tiger stripes rendered in lamé, beadwork that shimmered like heat rising off leaves. HebaJasmi followed with something gentler, gowns in pastel chiffon – butter yellow, lavender, aqua – cut as columns and softened with sequins and beads. Then Kresha Bajaj shifted the weight back to excess, turning beads into architecture: cages, kaftans, even trousers that clinked with every step, before loosening into a fringe that swept the floor like a curtain call. Together the three set the week’s tone – opulent, delicate, and daring in turn – a reminder that Dubai’s runway can hold multitudes without losing its thread.

If that was heritage reframed, Italian Day brought its own register of drama. Six houses crossed from Milan to Dubai in a single afternoon, each drawing on a different corner of the ‘Made in Italy’ myth. Valentina Poltronieri set the tone with vivid palettes and playful tailoring, Le Twins answered with high-gloss femininity, and D-Exterior reworked knitwear into sculpted lines. Gil Santucci leaned architectural, Avant Toi chased dye and texture to experimental extremes, while Be Nina closed on something softer, all drape and quiet precision. Together they made a case for why Italian craft still matters, even far from home, and why Dubai has become a stage worth flying into.

From continental grandeur the focus shifted back to brevity and punch. Lama Jouni’s show lasted barely ninety seconds, a burst of jersey cuts and slogan caps striding to Led Zeppelin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’. No staging, no long finale – just a firecracker of freedom worn like a uniform. If that was speed and precision, Jozeph and Cintia Diarbakerli answered with riotous fun: Hollywood siren colliding with Berlin underground, feathers sweeping the floor, sequins pulsing against techno bass, and a black lace veil standing in for the bride’s gown. Xenia took it inward, building a couture meditation on repair through the Japanese philosophy of kintsugi – gauze layered into shifting greys, sliced with red and green, headpieces coiling like kanzashi, silhouettes that felt as fragile as they were deliberate.

By the time Tara Babylon took the stage on September 5, the week had become a conversation between speed, drama, and introspection. She carried it back to her roots, embroidering Iraq’s national rose into silhouettes that slipped between eras. Mini-crinis opened the show, tea-party dresses followed with drop waists and gloves, and then came body-con drapes layered with hijabs. Each petal was hand-dyed, each bead hand-stitched by forty artisans over weeks, yet the labour never weighed the looks down. Instead, the collection felt light, almost improvised, as if history and urgency could share the same fabric.

Behind all this, the business was humming. The expanded buyers’ programme brought Paris, Milan, London and New York into the room, giving designers face time that matters as much as any runway applause. Germany, the Netherlands and Croatia made official debuts, reinforcing the idea that Dubai now sits on the same circuit as the traditional capitals. More than thirty brands showed this season – Maison Rizman Ruzaini, Michael Cinco, Les Benjamins, BLSSD – each adding to a narrative that is becoming harder to dismiss.

When the final lights dim and the crowd drifts back into the September heat, what lingers is less about individual gowns or designers and more about the momentum. If New York still sets the calendar and Paris guards the codes, Dubai is carving out its own role: the place where opposites meet, where regional voices speak louder, and where fashion itself feels in motion.