Stepping into Alexander McQueen’s shoes is no small feat; his house is built on spectacle. Seán McGirr approaches it not with imitation, but subtle innovation, introducing elements of his Irish sensibility without compromising McQueen’s signature intensity and doing so in a way that is entirely his own.
At first glance, McGirr’s intention becomes palpable. Lace and delicate embroidery appear in unexpected places, tracing shoulders, spilling down sleeves, or punctuating sharply tailored jackets. Skirts float and fold with a weightless tension, cinched waists anchor the more dramatic shapes, and trousers sit unapologetically low, introducing a contemporary, urban edge that offsets the collection’s more romantic elements. In other words, a generous view for those who appreciate it.
The pirate boot from McQueen’s Spring/Summer 2003 collection returns with renewed purpose. Slouched, high, and buckled, it walks the line between homage and reinvention. With refined leather and the gleam of metal, it exudes forward motion, and its presence throughout the runway acts as a unifying signature piece. Consider the boot more than mere footwear.
Contrast drives much of the collection. Crisp tailoring meets airy gowns, masculine cuts are softened by fluidity or florals, and textures, from polished leather to gossamer chiffon, draw the eye in for a second look. The effect of the accessories is integral, their forms interacting with the garments to reinforce the silhouette and imply a theatricality without tipping the balance of impracticality: Structural handbags, headpieces, and understated jewellery.
Colour is similarly intentional, and it is here we observe the unmistakable Irish flair, even if it is never literal or heavy-handed. McGirr does not drape his models in stereotypes. Deep forest greens ground the line in a sober, demanding tone. Muted greys articulate form, in all its angles and edges, while earthy tones tether the fabrics to substance and material: dense woodlands, rocky coastlines, and fertile fields, much like Ireland. Against this subdued foundation of colours, sapphire, ruby, and emerald add a pop of colour to define the contours of each garment. Even still, McGirr’s palette is less overtly dramatic compared to McQueen’s, because to him, colour modulates proportion and form rather than commanding attention.
With that being said, it becomes apparent where McGirr’s creative vision for this collection originated: in the eerie and ritualistic Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man. McGirr pits tradition against transgression, balancing structured tailoring and almost ephemeral skirts, mirroring the film’s uneasy balance between order and the untamed natural world.
And yet, for all its polish and precision, there is an impish streak to McGirr’s collection that refuses to be neatly catalogued. The pirate boot does not just return to please the eye, but it reminds us that McQueen’s irreverence is never far from the surface. McGirr honours the house’s past while asserting a modern, irreverent intelligence, one that moves effortlessly between cinematic drama, inventive design that pays homage, and a touch of theatrical whimsy.
