Abigail Ajobi AW25

"Where the hell are we going? It can't possibly be here..." I said as Sabrina and I double checked my Google Maps. We were looking for the Abigail Ajobi show. This breakout talent was the buzz of LFW this season and I was not about to miss this show because Goggle can't locate the show! When we finally uncovered this secret location we were ushered to a row of seats in the parking lot of a block of the projects. No matter where you are from, you know what the projects look like. And was I surprised that we were at a show in the projects? Absolutely not. Fashion happens everywhere and fashion is from everywhere, at any time.

Abigail Ajobi delivered a collection that was as politically charged as it was sartorially bold. Titled "I'M NOT ENGLISH, I'M BRITISH" , the lineup interrogated the complexities of Black British identity with the designer’s signature blend of cultural storytelling and sustainable innovation. Ajobi’s work has always thrived at the intersection of her Yoruba heritage and London upbringing, but this season felt particularly personal. Traditional Adire prints were reworked into structured streetwear silhouettes. One example is the frayed-edge bomber jacket and asymmetrical skirts, creating a visual dialogue between Nigerian craftsmanship and British subversion. The collection’s title alone, emblazoned on tactical inspired vests, challenged monolithic notions of nationality, echoing the designer’s own experiences as a second-generation immigrant.

True to form, Ajobi continued her commitment to circularity, using deadstock fabrics and limited-edition production. Each piece carried a dual purpose: a trench coat lined with archival newspaper clippings of Windrush-era headlines doubled as wearable protest, while proceeds from select items supported Black British heritage initiatives. Staged as a multimedia experience, models moved to a soundtrack blending Afrobeats and UK garage, their deliberate strides amplifying the collection’s unapologetic stance. Standouts included a deconstructed blazer with exaggerated shoulders, nodding to both Yoruba ceremonial dress and punk dissent and a pleated midi skirt screen-printed with distorted Nollywood stills.

In a climate where many designers retreated to digital showcases, she leveraged the runway’s immediacy to demand visibility for marginalized narratives. As we sat in the rain in the car park of the London projects, one message lingered, identity isn’t a checkbox, it’s a living, breathing resistance.