Less is more with metallic chrome
After three seasons away from the New York Fashion Week runway, designer Edvin Thompson returned with a collection rooted in personal history and hard-won self-acceptance — and the beauty that accompanied it carried the same weight. Working with hairstylist Jawara and makeup artist Raisa Flowers, Thompson translated his autobiographic 'Shaunie' collection into a visual language drawn not from runway convention, but from the democratic, expressive world of nightlife. In doing so, Theophilio SS25 quietly proposed that authentic cultural moments — a group of friends getting ready, a single chrome accent chosen freely — are as worthy of the runway as any studied ideal of perfection.
- After three years of absence, Edvin Thompson's return to NYFW carried the pressure of a public reckoning with his own growth and identity.
- The tension between runway conformity and individual expression ran through every backstage decision, from the mix of locs and pixies to the deliberate restraint of the makeup palette.
- Hairstylist Jawara dismantled the idea of a unified 'look' by treating each model's hair as a personal choice — braids beside sleek ponytails, wigs given the same care as natural styles.
- Makeup artist Raisa Flowers anchored the beauty in club culture's quiet confidence: dewy skin, black liner, and a single metallic chrome accent that said everything by not saying too much.
- The collection is landing as a signal that fashion beauty is shifting — away from polished uniformity and toward stories drawn from real cultural memory and personal truth.
Edvin Thompson returned to the New York Fashion Week runway for the first time in three years with a collection titled 'Shaunie' — a name from his Jamaican childhood — and a quiet declaration: 'I truly feel like I've arrived.' The beauty that framed the show was built to carry that same weight of arrival, shaped by hairstylist Jawara and makeup artist Raisa Flowers into something that felt less like a runway directive and more like a group of people getting ready together, each choosing what felt right.
Jawara's approach was one of radical variety. Sleek ponytails sat beside braids, locs twisted next to short pixies, and wigs were applied with the same intentionality as natural styles. Using products like Kiss Color Foam Mousse and Braiding Spray, he created asymmetrical cuts and side parts that resisted uniformity — a deliberate philosophy of permission over polish.
Flowers drew her makeup direction from club culture's particular brand of effortless confidence: the moment before a night out when someone decides they don't need much. Dewy skin, black eyeliner, and a single metallic chrome accent in the inner corner of the eye — pulled from the Danessa Myricks Lightwork Volume IV Freedom Palette — composed a look that felt complete precisely because it wasn't trying to be everything. 'Less is more with metallic chrome,' she said.
What emerged was a beauty vision that mirrored Thompson's collection itself: individuality expressed through choice, not conformity. In a week that often chases perfection, Theophilio offered something quieter and more radical — the idea that a girl heading to the club, makeup minimal and hair freely chosen, was already more than enough.
Edvin Thompson walked his Theophilio collection down the New York Fashion Week runway for the first time in three years, and the beauty that framed it told a story he'd been carrying with him all along. The collection, titled "Shaunie"—a name from his childhood in Jamaica—was deeply personal, a reckoning with the discomfort and growth that had shaped him in the years away. "This collection celebrates the grandeur self," Thompson said. "I truly feel like I've arrived."
To translate that arrival into something visible, Thompson called on hairstylist Jawara and makeup artist Raisa Flowers, two collaborators who understood that beauty on a runway could be about more than polish. It could be about permission. Jawara approached the hair with a philosophy of radical variety: sleek ponytails sat alongside braids, locs twisted next to short pixies, and wigs were applied with the same intentionality as natural styles. "We're doing an overall 'fun night at a party' kind of hair," Jawara explained, working with products like Kiss Color Foam Mousse and Braiding Spray to create side parts and asymmetrical cuts that felt less like uniform beauty and more like a group of people getting ready together, each choosing what felt right.
The makeup followed a similar logic of restraint and intention. Flowers pulled greens and metallics from the Danessa Myricks Lightwork Volume IV Freedom Palette, letting the collection's own color story guide her hand. But the real direction came from club culture—that specific moment when someone is getting ready to go out and decides they don't need much. Dewy skin, black eyeliner, a single pop of metallic chrome in the inner corner of the eye. "Less is more with metallic chrome," Flowers said, describing a look that felt effortless precisely because it wasn't trying to be everything at once.
What emerged backstage was a beauty philosophy that matched Thompson's collection: individuality expressed through choice, not conformity. The models weren't interchangeable. They were people, each one allowed to show up as themselves while still moving together as a unified vision. In a week of runway beauty that often chases perfection, Theophilio offered something quieter and more radical—the idea that a girl going to the club, makeup minimal and hair chosen freely, was already enough.
Notable Quotes
This collection celebrates the grandeur self. I truly feel like I've arrived.— Edvin Thompson, designer
We're doing an overall 'fun night at a party' kind of hair.— Jawara, hairstylist
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Thompson step away for three seasons, and what brought him back now?
The collection itself answers that—he needed time to sit with the harder parts of his story. "Shaunie" is autobiographic, which means it's not just about clothes. It's about what he'd learned in the silence.
The hair and makeup feel deliberately unstyled. Was that intentional, or does it just read that way?
It was completely intentional. Jawara's whole approach was about embracing different choices, not erasing them. A sleek pony and a pixie cut on the same runway—that's a statement about who gets to belong.
The club culture reference is interesting. Why that world specifically?
Because that's where people are most themselves. You're getting ready for something you want to do, with people you want to be around. There's no pretense in how you do your makeup when you're just trying to feel good.
So the beauty look is almost a rejection of traditional runway aesthetics?
Not a rejection—a recalibration. Traditional runway beauty says: perfection, uniformity, flawlessness. This says: intention, individuality, enough. It's more honest about how people actually move through the world.
What does it mean that a major designer is centering personal narrative this way?
It means fashion is finally catching up to what beauty actually is—not a standard, but a conversation between who you are and how you want to show up.