Founded in 2014 as a project commenting on gender, identity, and politics, in an intermediate mix of fashion and art, the label Barragán returned to the stage after a three-year hiatus, with founder Victor Barragán as an international guest at Berlin Fashion Week. He invited his guests to a showcase at the Mexican embassy, a place that is rarely visited by strangers and more of a gated meeting point for formal affairs or personal concerns. This was most definitely an unusual setting for a fashion show, and one that didn’t quite fit the spectacle he intended to unleash on his audience.

As opposed to a regular defile, his models almost appeared as if they had stepped out of a sultry 90s movie (fueled by red light and gloomy sounds) that felt bizarrely real. Too close to one’s own life and reality. Too uncomfortable to even look at, but captivating enough to keep on watching in an almost voyeuristic manner. Every detail of the rather peculiar outfits carried its own weight. Accessories such as an aquarium, scars, smeary make-up, money foiled to the body or toy crosses. Instead of focusing on the garments themselves, the viewer was forced to digest the person as a whole. In general, this is an idealistic approach to a presentation, where the models serve as a vessel for the garments. But thanks to the immaculate casting, which happened to select a group of body- and age-diverse people (one of the best castings this season so far), one wanted to give them one’s full attention.

Based on their looks and appearances, the spectator was being confronted with questions about belonging, sexuality, life-threatening circumstances, and systemic injustices. A woman with a botched scar on her belly raised questions about (illegal) abortions; others had scars on their bodies from possible trespassing or other struggles. Hand placements in nether regions made watching them walk by uncomfortable, while a model with a terrarium appeared like comic relief within a mix of erotic elements, queer aesthetics, uniform details and 2000s sportswear. Every item felt more thrown together in a hurry than actually planned to be worn. People carrying a suitcase, passport stamps or USA merch – everything created context within Victor’s own Mexican heritage, his chosen home of New York and Germany as his show-playgrounds. One person was even dressed in a “welcome to America” shirt while wearing a clown’s nose. It served as a subtle note to the collection’s name, “BARRAGÁN SS30”, referencing the symbolic end of Donald Trump’s current presidential term. Particularly as a Mexican brand, all those layers and details accumulated into a broader commentary on identity, migration, recognition, sovereignty, and how people get reduced to a single image defined from the outside. Yet no one is monolithic. Everyone is “shaped by media, politics, colonial history, and assumptions that extend beyond a single geographic context.”

And maybe that’s why Victor Barragán’s presentation was so unsettling and challenging – visually, but also morally. Everybody knows the fleeting moments in a big city, by nighttime or even in broad daylight, when different realities collide in places such as train stations, nightclubs, or even embassies. Everybody – walking or being seated – was part of a performance depicting a particular reality that was happening simultaneously in Berlin (and every other metropolis) far away from the glitz of the fashion universe, which took hold of a group of fortunate people. SS30 showed us the realities of the city we live in, the world around us, and the people we pass by every day. Sometimes you ignore them; other times you feel uncomfortable even looking at them – especially when they try to enter your personal space. As opposed to numbing oneself to those realities, Barragán invited the people to sit within their discomfort. The show uncomfortably threw those realities straight into the centre of attention.

So, the most interesting part of the show was observing the people’s faces – shocked, confused, disgusted. There were so many feelings in the room you could almost taste them. It’s unsettling to have to sit through something you want to leave immediately, but it’s wonderful too. Because fashion is always a portrayal of the state of the world, a certain culture, politics, and pain – as a medium, it is supposed to make you feel something. And that’s what everybody in the room ultimately did.