Agro Studios’ Spring Summer 2026 show walked the line between the tradition of ceremony and the rebellion of modern structural design, like a procession through a future court that had outlawed boredom. The collection unfolded in bright hues, saffron, chartreuse, sky-blue satin, and the sharp black of lacquered leather. The opening look, a golden gown cinched and corseted into submission felt like a suit of armor disguised as desire. Its puffed sleeves announced the model's presence before their footsteps could; the lacing down the torso pulled the viewer forward, as though the garment itself demanded confrontation.

The mood swung with the next parade of looks. A shearling bomber made from cracked-patch leather panels, “NO MORE AGRO” blazoned across the chest in a manifesto yellow. It was a wink and a warning. An assertion that the collection was both about conflict and its refusal. The message read as a call for gentler strength, wrapped in clothes that looked built to weather both storms and trials.

By the time the finale came, the runway had become a parade. Striped suits marched beside sweeping gowns, their Earth-toned pinstripes slicing through the heavy air of the runway. A blue mermaid skirt swelled into architectural foam at the hem, as if the ocean had swallowed a corset whole and spat out a silhouette. Black gloves punctuated many looks, the through-line of drama that bound evening fantasy to daywear rebellion.

Agro’s SS26 felt to me like a staged debate. Clothes exploring the tension between severity and softness. Utilitarian grit vs. ballroom flourish. It asks whether a woman in a corset is constrained or commanding, and whether a man in shearling is shielding himself or simply playing dress-up with power. 

Each garment carried the refusal to be only one thing. What Agro offered this season was not comfort, but a kind of liberation through tension: a wardrobe that clenches its jaw and then smiles anyway. The runway closed not with a bow but a charge, an invitation to wear your armour, your satin, your stripes, all at once, and to let them argue on your body.

Words By: Anya Duncan
Images Courtesy: POP PR