The designer grapples with commercial abjection.
A few weeks ago, I found myself in an uptown Walmart and was struck with blinkered horror — these clothes were decent. Long gone were the days of Tweety Bird nightgowns; rhinestone crucifixes studded onto boho-Ed Hardy nightmares; and v-neck t-shirts painted with Marilyn Monroe’s pale, frozen face. Suddenly, I was pressed against tolerable, Magnolia Network-y blouses and jeans, indistinguishable from the Old Navies and Ann Taylor Loft’s of the world. The shock, here, was not that a supermarket, especially a supermarket known as a particularly American punchline, was sharpening its offerings. It was that Brandon Maxwell had accomplished something once unthinkable.
Maxwell was hired in 2021 to round out the brand’s apparel division and shape its in-house lines. He was not the first designer eager to yoke themselves to a mass-market retailer; Max Azria worked with Walmart for a then-teenybopper Miley Cyrus collection, and countless designers have worked alongside Target on limited capsules. But Maxwell stepping into a Creative Director role was met with derision both on and offline. An editor DM’d me the story when it broke: “He’s out of money, right?”
I’ve never thought that was the case. Maxwell largely makes great clothes; models like walking for him; he’s worked with the same people — like Movement Director Stephen Galloway — for almost a decade; he never neglects a brand corner. A lack of focus, both in the studio and the boardroom, is what presses designers for cash. And whether you like Maxwell’s work or find it repetitious, you must admit the man possesses an almost medical concentration and consistency. He is a surgeon.
And it does take precision, especially in Maxwell’s case, to be amenable to throwing out the playbook. The past few seasons have seen Maxwell at his most architectonic, forceful, immovable, a Basic Instinct ice-queen glamour. Playing into the high-fashion brand angles across your repertoire is a smart move, especially when “Walmart Creative Director” swings under your byline. But SS25 sees Maxwell relaxed, loose, and — dare I say — slackened. Though I have the gut feeling that this laxity is as calculated as Maxwell’s stiffer work. “I’ve taken lessons that life has handed me about control and the lack thereof and translated them into the collection,” the designer writes in his show notes.
The most salient pieces are Maxwell at his best — governed by shape and drape. A blossom-pink silk dress, neckline cut to the belly button, hangs like a dream; belted halter dresses in matching fabric are fun, if derivative, with models’ hands covering their breasts (Sarah Burton’s Alexander McQueen did it better). Ruffled hemlines, a frequent hallmark, twist and twitch like kelp forests, though they’re far less becoming in Maxwell’s preferred dirty-mustard chartreuse.
These moments of bliss are intercut with jarring incuriosity. A bulky bomber jacket, silver zipper sparkling, squeezes a minidress; a trenchcoat is deadened by a snap-and-release section; a long-sleeve crop top, though lovely, does nothing but remind you less of Brandon Maxwell and more of Brandy Melville. These are wearable clothes, no doubt, but therein lies the issue: are they worth wearing?
Maxwell is loved on the calendar for his intelligence and constancy, and I do believe the Maxwell of these past few seasons still exists. You catch glimpses of him occasionally: a black turtleneck under an asymmetrical leather coat, clear fisherman sandals, wrapped tops, and maxi skirts that hit the ankle with such easy grace. They are not the most revolutionary clothes in the world, but they are quintessentially Brandon Maxwell, and they’re outstanding. But to look at the whole of this collection — in its oscillating moments of brilliance and vacuity — is to feel like you’re in for open-heart surgery, and your physician is distracted by an iPhone notification: his Walmart order is out for delivery. 🌀 6.7
Savannah Eden Bradley is a writer, fashion editor, gallerina, Gnostic scholar, reformed It Girl, and future beautiful ghost from the Carolina coast. She is the Editor-in-Chief of the fashion magazine HALOSCOPE. You can stalk her everywhere online @savbrads.