Feeling a sense of disruption in your clothes isn’t about unveiling flesh, but about democratising its very essence, shows Diesel’s Glenn Martens.
AS A small but acute addendum to the season, what’s going on Diesel deserves recognition. Years in, the brand has been revived in a very rarified, technically accomplished way by Glenn Martens, who was hired by the OTB owners to energise its overall aestheticism. Following the steps of his Milanese counterparts, who laid down the fundamentals of twentieth-century pattern-making, is a daunting task.
Still, Martens has taken things on in a way that shines a punchy sidelight on creativity’s pent-up desire for simple-seeming but ultra-refined minimalism. Autumn-winter 2025 saw the designer taking the show in the biggest ever known graffiti installation, with over three kilometres of graffiti fabric, made by a global street art collective of around 7,000 amateur and expert graffiti artists.
“The concept of the show is a bit anti-popular, as it’s all really artistically made,” Martens explained backstage post-show. “The whole idea is of this cook who goes to Balmoral and she gets f*cked with the Queen and that’s sherry or whatever,” he adds, nodding with sheer excitement. “It’s cute because democracy sits at the heart of Diesel, which is also about lifestyle.”
Soon at the helm of Maison Margiela, one couldn’t help but wonder about Martens’ timing and next oeuvre at the brand. “I might do a collection in July, but I’m not sure I’m going to make it on time because I only arrived two weeks ago,” he told The Cut’s Critic-at-Large, Cathy Horyn. “So I’m not so sure I can come with a couture collection and I’m not really happy about it.” Fair stuff.
Moving on, this collection blended denim, utility, pop and the artisanal: exploded and mixed, elevation and playfulness of garments were a du jour element this season, with the subversion of tradition atop Martens’ agenda.
He likes severe tailoring, and that’s what he showed: namely, a little bouclé jacket worn with a little denim peplum as if the top of jeans, over jacquard hotpants as if distressed denim and on the menswear front, men’s tailoring is raw-cut and unadorned in bonded neoprene, while a women’s bouclé basque is worn over skinny jeans with an attached denim peplum.
“I think it was a conscious elevation of the language of Diesel, and all looks a little bit more formal,” he says. “This concept was developed a year ago and it took a lot of time to send,” he admits, explaining that, “You have to engage with the schools, you have to help. So I also wanted to break a bit of the gravity because otherwise it would have been a bit too much.”
Martens is aware of the commercially-driven approach he needs to stick to. “To be honest, when we do the show, we sell 5 to 10% of the total and it does go to a high price point. That means that of course people maybe want to wear something a little bit more elevated,” he concludes. “I actually did a lot of these amazing jerseys that were falling into pieces, but at the end of the day they’re quite expensive and nobody really buys them.So we know that this is what we do, and I mean, it’s still Diesel: firm and cheeky.” Very much so.
by Chidozie Obasi