London's catwalk history: from wobbling heels to rocket shows
A green suede sandal, adorned with ivy leaves, nearly derailed Manolo Blahnik’s career in 1971. The fledgling designer, crafting shoes for Ossie Clark’s London show, inadvertently omitted steel pins from the heels. The result? Models teetered down the runway, a near-disaster that was, remarkably, hailed as a revolutionary style by the press. Now, that near-fatal sandal—and a century of Fashion show history—is captivating audiences at the V&A Dundee’s new exhibition, Catwalk: The Art of the Fashion Show.
A century of spectacle, from salons to rockets
The exhibition, a collaboration with the Vitra Design Museum, traces the evolution of the Fashion show from the discreet salons of 19th-century Paris and London to today’s extravagant, globally broadcast events. As Leonie Bell, Director of V&A Dundee, puts it, “The Fashion show influences every single thing that we choose to wear and what we’re able to buy.” Scotland, it turns out, plays a pivotal role in this narrative; the Empire Exhibition at Bellahouston Park in 1938 showcased Fashion, followed by Dior’s two Scottish shows in 1955, and a recent return in 2024 at Drummond Castle. The exhibition highlights Scottish talent, featuring Christopher Kane’s debut collection and designs from Charles Jeffrey Loverboy and Nicholas Daley.
The show’s journey wasn’t always about grand gestures. Svetlana Panova, co-curator, notes that in the 20th century, shows escaped the confines of salons, venturing into gardens, on ocean liners, and even at horse races—effectively transforming them into powerful marketing tools. The rise of ready-to-wear in the 1950s and 60s further accelerated this shift, moving away from the formality of haute couture toward more dynamic presentations. Paco Rabanne’s “unwearable” metal mirror dress and Mary Quant’s iconic vinyl raincoat both exemplified this energetic new aesthetic.
The modern fashion show, fueled by luxury conglomerates, has become a spectacle of theatrical staging, A-list attendees, and increasingly ambitious stunts. Consider Karl Lagerfeld’s 2018 Chanel show, where a purpose-built rocket launched from the Grand Palais—a moment captured in the exhibition through footage and a scale model of the set, alongside props like the Chanel-branded megaphone famously wielded by Cara Delevingne and Gisele Bündchen.
Even the invitations have become part of the performance. From Lacoste’s tennis-net invites to Jonathan Anderson’s Dior collarette and Demna Gvasalia’s Balenciaga wallet crammed with receipts, each detail contributes to the immersive experience. Panova highlights the particularly unsettling Balenciaga invitation: “The paper envelope is scented. It's made to smell like dust and archives, but it smells like mould… it makes you think of money, power and blood.”
While such displays might seem exclusive, Catwalk democratizes the experience, offering a glimpse behind the scenes through the work of makeup artist Val Garland and hair stylist Sam McKnight. The exhibition deftly illustrates that the runway isn’t an isolated event, but a reflection of—and an influence on—social and cultural shifts, from Quant’s miniskirts to the digital experimentation of the pandemic era.
Ultimately, Catwalk demonstrates that whether you’re in the front row or watching from afar, the fashion show shapes our world—a world where a wobbling heel can become a cultural moment.