Romance is Officially Back. Here's How it's Rewriting Fashion's Mood

Lace, liquid silk, and the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw: the new romanticism isn't about escapism. It's about feeling everything, wearing it openly. From Paris to Milan, the runways couldn't agree more
Romance is Officially Back. Here's How it's Rewriting Fashion's Mood
Alexander McQueen Fall RTW 2025 (Photo by Giovanni Giannoni/WWD via Getty Images)

For years, fashion has been trapped in a loop of "optimisation." We have endured the rise of the algorithmic wardrobe: a sterile, "quiet" aesthetic perfectly curated for the high-resolution screen but increasingly detached from the human touch. Yet, after seasons defined by the sharp, protective edges of corporate chic and clinical minimalism, a new, softer dawn is breaking. Romance in all its diaphanous, ruffled, and unapologetically sentimental glory has returned to centre stage. What we’re seeing now is a “Romantic Goth” renaissance: sheer veils, inky florals, trailing hems, emotion worn openly. In a culture flattened into pixels and performance, fashion is reaching for depth again. It wants texture. It wants feeling. It wants to be human.

The Spring/Summer 2025 and 2026 runways have acted as a collective fever dream of this romantic revival. At Chloé, Chemena Kamali’s collection served as a definitive manifesto for the "new romantic." Flowing chiffon gowns in powder pink and buttery yellows cascaded down the runway, their hemlines catching the air with a sense of levity we haven't seen in years. It was an ode to the bohemian spirit, but grounded by the sensuality of lace-trimmed lingerie and delicate floral patterns that felt intimate rather than decorative.

This shift toward softness is perhaps best exemplified by the current cultural obsession with "Moorcore"— a trend heavily fueled by Emerald Fennell’s latest adaptation of Wuthering Heights. Costume designer Jacqueline Durran has traded historical rigidity for "emotional truth," outfitting Margot Robbie’s Cathy in modern-cut corsets, deep ruby velvets, and windswept silhouettes. This "Wuthering Heights costume play" has trickled from the screen to the streets, where the rigid structure of the Victorian era is being subverted by a wilder, more carnal aesthetic. It’s about the drama of the Yorkshire moors: heavy capes, trailing lace collars, and "ruined" surfaces that suggest a life lived deeply.

Designers like Simone Rocha and Cecilie Bahnsen continue to lead this charge, albeit with a sharper edge. Rocha’s recent collections have expertly blended the infantile with the avant-garde, pairing her signature voluminous tulle and pearl-encrusted tiaras with sturdy boots and harness straps. It is romance with a spine, a sentiment echoed at Valentino, where Alessandro Michele’s debut introduced heavily layered looks, lace-trimmed hosiery, and oversized bows that felt like heirlooms rediscovered.

Even the most avant-garde houses are leaning into this emotional narrative. At Loewe, Jonathan Anderson reimagined florals not as prints, but as sculptural forms, voluminous hoop skirts, and molded tops that mimic the organic curves of nature. Meanwhile, Miu Miu has turned the boudoir inside out, presenting reimagined lingerie and sheer dressing gowns as the new everyday uniform.

What unites these varied expressions is a return to the hierarchy of touch. After seasons ruled by fixations on structure and stiff geometric power dressing, designers are reaching again for materials that demand intimacy — silk charmeuse, broderie anglaise, chiffon so weightless it seems to breathe. Lace, long exiled to lingerie or ironic deployment, is appearing earnestly once more. The corset, which spent several seasons as subversive outerwear, has been welcomed back inside the garment, its discipline hidden beneath the dreaminess.

On the streets outside the shows, the translation is happening rapidly. The dominant looks this past season were layered lace slips over fine-knit turtlenecks, vintage florals worn with intent, velvet headbands, and ribbons tied at the wrist like personal talismans. The romanticism was not theatrical — it was integrated, lived-in, worn with the ease of a genuine aesthetic position.

To read this shift as a mere trend cycling the inevitable pendulum swing away from minimalism would be reductive. Something far more substantive is unfolding. We are navigating a cultural moment defined by a craving for sincerity over irony; a desire to invest in beauty for its own sake and to treat emotional expressiveness as a form of intelligence rather than weakness. Fashion’s romantic turn is the direct, coherent response to that collective mood.