Querida,
Some mornings fashion arrives softly, in the rustle of an unpacked garment bag. Other mornings it arrives like weather. Yesterday brought the second kind, and by nightfall two of the industry's most closely watched names had changed course.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art will not, after all, mount its planned retrospective of John Galliano. The exhibition — announced only weeks ago and slated to open in the spring of 2027, with the following year's Met Gala built around it — was withdrawn after mounting criticism, including reported pressure from donors. The designer said the decision followed reflection and conversation with the museum, and reaffirmed his accountability for the antisemitic remarks that ended his tenure at Dior in 2011, and the pain they caused. It is a sober footnote to a career of extraordinary technical romance, and a reminder that a house's legacy is stitched from more than fabric.
The same day, Ib Kamara announced his exit from Off-White after four years as creative director — a tenure he inherited in the shadow of Virgil Abloh's passing and carried through seven shows. Rather than name a successor, the label has turned to a year-long project handing ten product categories to ten different creatives. Whether that is an act of humility or of hesitation, we will learn in the collections. What it signals, unmistakably, is that the single-visionary model no longer feels inevitable.
Meanwhile New York is polishing its floors. The official calendar for New York Fashion Week runs September 10 through 15, opening with Henry Zankov's debut as artistic director at Diane von Furstenberg and closing with Thom Browne. Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors, Tory Burch and Calvin Klein anchor the schedule, while newcomers — Conner Ives, Magda Butrym, Sabyasachi among them — arrive with something to prove. That a house founded by a Venezuelan woman still holds the center of the American calendar is not a small thing. It is proof, quietly renewed each season, that our accent belongs on that runway.
And underneath the spectacle, the harder arithmetic. At a recent RaiseFashion gathering, independent designers spoke plainly about what the last two years have cost them: tariffs that have roughly doubled the price of importing apparel and footwear, supply chains that stall for months, and capital that remains stubbornly out of reach for small houses. Glamour has never been cheap. Lately it has become genuinely precarious.
We know that arithmetic intimately. House of Yas was built by a woman who understands what it means to leave one country and construct a life — and a language of beauty — in another. Every gown we cut in Miami carries that inheritance: the discipline of exile, the memory of a grandmother's hands, the insistence that elegance is not decoration but survival made visible. In a season when the industry is asking who gets to hold the pen, we simply keep writing.
Come see what we have been making. Explore the collections at houseofyas.com.
Con cariño,
La Revista