Cigarettes and KFC on the catwalk: How London Fashion Week is cashing in on hangover chic
Designer Sinead Gorey is serving up her latest collection with fast food and a quick puff on a ciggie – the next fashion trend is all about owning the walk of shame, writes Olivia Petter
Nothing is less fashionable than a walk of shame. Chances are, your hair is in disarray and smells like an ashtray. On top of that, you’ve not slept a wink. Think hooded, tired eyes with an overall visage that’s at best pallid and at worst severely sunken. Then there’s your outfit: laddered tights, someone else’s jacket, and a slinky top that’s completely at odds with 7am commuter attire.
Suffice to say, it’s not the most obvious aesthetic to serve as inspiration for designers at London Fashion Week. And yet, it was exactly that for Sinead Gorey, whose autumn/winter 2025 collection was a homage to the morning after the night before: it was literally titled “Walk of Shame”. According to the show notes, it proposed “a way of dressing that only surfaces during the wee hours” defined by “accidental elegance” and looks that are more thrown together than carefully assembled.
This was clear from the offset, as guests sat down to find bespoke KFC bags on their seats, each filled with a £10 “chicken cheque”. As the show kicked off in the depths of a car park beneath Oxford Circus to a thrumming soundtrack spearheaded by electronic duo Bicep, the mood was instantly one of underground – and after-hours – subversion.
Models didn’t so much walk down the runway as swagger, stopping at various points to make eyes with those on the front row and wearing an array of what Gorey calls “siren staples”, such as studded leather one-pieces, tartan co-ords, and scarlet chainmail gowns. Tights were worn over knickers, while knee-high stockings were paired with retro Converse stilettos, and bug-eyed sunglasses hid hungover eyes. Playfulness was amplified by way of the red lipstick kiss-marks several models had dotted across their chests.
As for hemlines, well, they were ludicrously high, sometimes wedged halfway up bottoms, meaning skin was very much on show. The chaos was such that, at one point, a model took a tumble and it was unclear whether or not this was intentional. The morning-after mood felt most potent, though, when some models strutted down the runway while puffing on what smelt like real cigarettes; others did so while taking bites out of KFC burgers.
“The decision to work with KFC came from the idea of the journey home from a night out, KFC cup in hand, just having finished a burger,” Gorey tells The Independent. “I think it’s something everyone can relate to in one way or another, and I just wanted to have fun with it.” As for the smoking, the southeast Londoner says it was less a statement than a character portrayal. “I think things are taken too seriously in this industry,” she adds. “I wanted to add some drama to the runway.”

It was a joyful paean to teenage hedonism, evoking a reckless spirit that served as a refreshing antidote to some of the more quotidian runways elsewhere in the capital. That said, Gorey’s themes percolated into other shows. The faux-fur coats that models wore slung down their arms made an appearance the following morning at Toga; some were belted, while others came with matching hats.
Meanwhile, the chaotic mood was conveyed through the back-to-front jackets worn by several of the models. Rather than seeming stuffy and prim, as faux-fur coats and tailoring sometimes can, here these pieces were worn more subversively: think less Jackie Kennedy and more Carrie Bradshaw.
“I wanted to express provocation,” explained Toga’s designer, Yasuko Furuta, in the show notes, which went on to explain that this collection “takes formalwear and represents it as informal. As anti-form.” Overall, it offered a unique twist on sophisticated style.

Speaking of classic elegance, this too was turned on its head at Emilia Wickstead, whose usual tone of demurity was traded for a twitchier, more haunting collection inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 classic, The Birds, with character-driven design led by the film’s costume designer, Edith Head.
Models walked the runway in an array of tailored pistachio two-pieces, with lingerie-inspired necklines providing a more feminine edge. But with arms crossed, jumpers slung over their shoulders, and black leather gloves held tightly in their hands, they exhibited a demeanour that lent itself to the same teenage angst we saw at Gorey’s show. The mood was fraught and deliciously deviant.

Simone Rocha also served up a nostalgic collection, inspired by her schooldays, complete with chunky knitted cardigans, duffle coats fitted with fur linings, and striped rugby shirts. Faux fur found its way onto glamorous floor-length jackets, but also onto hot pants, belts and bralettes.
Then there were the teddy-bear-shaped handbags and scarves, as well as tiny pearl tortoises. The show notes, which referred to the fable “The Tortoise and the Hare”, stated simply: “School days haze. Twisted twin sets. Behind the bike shed.”
It’s that last line that seems to capture the overall mood of the aforementioned shows, one that is fundamentally about a youthful spirit defined by debauchery, escapism, and the pursuit of hidden pleasures. Bring it on.
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