Richard Quinn Spring Summer 2026 “Say Yes to the Dress… All 52 of Them, or Chanel Called, They Want Their Camellias (and Dignity) Back”. Story by Eleonora de Gray, Editor-in-Chief of RUNWAY MAGAZINE. Photo Courtesy: Richard Quinn.
If there was ever a whisper of doubt, let’s smother it under a mountain of tulle and declare it dead: Richard Quinn is officially your neighborhood bridal couturier with a Chanel complex. Spring Summer 2026 wasn’t a runway — it was a glorified wedding expo with chandeliers. The theme? “Opera,” allegedly. The reality? A bridal stampede down a white carpet. With over 20 wedding gowns parading by, we’re left wondering if someone misdelivered the show invite — perhaps this was meant for Bridal Week, not Ready-to-Wear. But sure, let’s pretend this is all terribly avant-garde, and not a full-blown Say Yes to the Dress marathon dressed up in duchesse satin.
But let’s start with the flower in the room — the giant camellia. Yes, that camellia. The one every first-year fashion student sketches on the chest of an evening gown while humming “Chanel No. 5” in their sleep. Richard Quinn didn’t just nod to it. He snatched it, scaled it up, and slapped it right in the middle of bodices, like a well-meaning but overly aggressive corsage. Because nothing says couture quite like a giant satin flower where your dignity used to be.
And speaking of restraint — or rather the complete absence of it — why stop at a giant camellia stitched to the chest (a St. Martins Foundation student’s day-one assignment, let’s be honest), when you can just throw the entire flower shop at the stage? Eight-meter towers of pink hydrangeas, six chandeliers, a live orchestra, and a choir… because apparently subtlety died sometime around Look 3. Calling this a fashion show would be generous — this was a full-scale opera house hallucination, complete with Naomi Campbell cosplaying as the Phantom of the Met Gala. She floated out in a black velvet gown with a white satin collar so wide it probably interfered with Heathrow’s flight path, and a bow so enormous it screamed: Congratulations, your midlife crisis is now gift-wrapped.
This opening act led into a 52-look crescendo of tulle, satin, corsets, bell skirts, and bridal hysteria. Acres of duchesse. Hectares of net. A Google Maps tag needed for each dress. And while the spectacle was undoubtedly grand, you start to wonder… wasn’t this supposed to be Ready-to-Wear?
The variety was… well, let’s say the silhouettes had commitment issues. Committed to the 1950s, that is. Every look felt like déjà vu from Quinn’s own archives — or Dior’s. Corseted tops, petticoats, florals bigger than your grandmother’s wallpaper, and crystals so heavy they needed their own insurance policy.
And yet, behind the rhinestone curtain lies a very strategic mind. Quinn has crafted a direct-to-consumer bridal empire under our noses. While we were busy decoding the Queen Elizabeth II cameo or cooing over chiffon prints, he was building an atelier in South London and flying tailors across the globe to measure heiresses in private villas. It’s couture meets UberEats.
Still, a few seams showed. Literally. Stray tulle, hanging straps, and rogue netting turned the pristine white carpet runway into something of a backstage clearance sale. One poor model looked like she was trailed by the ghost of netting past. But hey — that’s the price of drama. And when you’re dressing the global elite for their fifth weddings, who needs hems anyway?
To Quinn’s credit, there’s nothing “quiet” about his luxury. This is not about restraint. It’s about maximum impact — preferably with Swarovski-encrusted gloves. His clients don’t want less. They want more: more flowers, more bows, more volume, more… marriage.
So what did we learn?
- Bridal is the new black.
- Camellias are back — simultaneously… as they never left Chanel
- And if Naomi Campbell is involved, you can stage whatever you want and call it fashion.
Final thought
Richard Quinn’s Spring Summer 2026 was a symphony of silk, sparkle, and creative déjà vu — yet again pulling inspiration from the same vintage Dior playbook, now bedazzled with borrowed Chanel camellias. One season it’s New Look, the next it’s Karl’s flower patch. Is it a tribute? Is it a mood board? Or is someone just still mentally re-enrolled at Central Saint Martins? At this point, we’re not watching the evolution of a designer — we’re watching a very glamorous loop. The theatrics are undeniable. The talent? Still waiting for its solo.
See All Looks Richard Quinn Spring Summer 2026
