It’s been–to say the least–a turbulent year for Los Angeles, with last winter’s wildfires giving way to ongoing ICE raids that have disproportionately targeted the city’s sizable Latino community. At The Rio World’s runway show at The Broad on Tuesday, November 11, though, resistance was not just palpable but joyful; the event, dubbed “A Poem and a Protest” was billed as “an immersive evening of fashion, music, performance, and art honoring creative spirit and cultural expression while celebrating the Latinx community of Los Angeles.”
Rio Uribe’s collection creatively reflected the influence that Latinos have had on the L.A. goth scene, with models dancing down the runway in dramatic black-and-white makeup, giant hoops, bucket hats, visible thong bikini bottoms under miniskirts, and—in one memorable instance–a skinny scarf. (Were we ever so young?)
Uribe’s talent for blurring oppressive and binary gender lines was as evident as ever, with the audience–which included model Vivian Wilson and influencer Aaliyah Mendes–hooting appreciatively at a low-slung, frayed, puffed take on a uniform kilt that seemed to recall Emma Corrin’s 2021 Miu Miu micro-mini, begging the question: is this the era of the schoolthey skirt?
Fun abounded through denim newsboy caps, sheer plaid T-shirts displaying bikini tops underneath, and fur coats that could have been borrowed from a grandmother’s closet layered over bare chests, but the night’s potent political message was consistent and carefully executed; a surveillance drone buzzed persistently in the air from the show’s opening moments to its close, and when singer Cain Culto–who also walked in the show–took the mic to perform his song “KFC Santería” (sample lyric: “F*ck Trump, F*CK ICE, free Palestine”), the tips of his fingers were blue, as if he’d recently been fingerprinted.
“I started designing the collection in summer of 2024, and it was very much about beauty and poetry and how much I love the beaches and the laid-back style; I made a lot of pieces that are ruffled and stretchy and comfortable with some sparkle and denim, but when we started seeing ICE raids and protests and budget cuts, I decided it would be kind of irresponsible or out of touch to continue with that collection,” Uribe said, adding, “We started building out this very armor-like section of the show that was quilted, reflective, ready for anything. In my mind, my girl is leaving work, going to a protest to stand up for herself and her friends, and then going out to dinner or to the club. What would that outfit look like? What does she need to be wearing?”
As the strains of cumbia and ’90s música romántica rang out through the crowd and the smoky perfume of a model’s lit cigarette reached the front row at the night’s end, the actual LAPD helicopters circling over downtown L.A. only reinforced the ominous yet defiant message sent by the silhouette of the drone against the Broad’s side: if you’re being watched (and imitated 24/7, you might as well put on a show.
