Dressed to Invest: A Recap of the 2026 LSE RAG Fashion Show
Written by AMELIA HANCOCK Photographed by OLIVER CHAN
Now in its fourth year, the RAG Fashion Show returned to e Venue and Marshall Building with a concept that felt particularly close to home for the average LSE student.
is year’s theme was 'Culture Capital’, a term coined by the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu that refers to the knowledge, skills, and cultural background that enable social mobility and confer status. For Creative Director Bryon Lim, the idea was less about theory and more about lived experience.
His interpretation centred on the reduction of London’s arts and culture history and its replacement with the conformity of corporate culture. Moving from Singapore to London for university, Bryon expected to be immersed in the arts and creative scene. Instead, he encountered a city increasingly shaped by gentri cation, modernisation, and perhaps the most recognisable to LSE students, the nance pipeline.
As noted in his opening speech, many arrive at LSE believing law, consulting, and high nance are the “answer to life”. However, he “couldn’t imagine how anyone could be interested in this”. is tension in his own journey directly inspired the show’s ve acts, following a student’s journey from embracing the conformity of the nance world to pushing boundaries and experimenting with self-de nition.
Act 1: The Stereotypes
e show opened as if you had stepped into Canary Wharf at rush hour. Tailored suits dominated the runway. e looks were structured, monotone, and deliberately repetitive. is act mirrored the corporate world dress code: powerful and immaculately put together.
Act 2: Corporate Fatigue
e second act started to show cracks in this conformity. e shi began subtly. A second tie. Trousers unbuttoned. A popped collar. One standout look, modelled by Guy Yashiv and designed by Ayanat Arynova, perfectly captured this transition. Conservative and structured on top, the look dissolved into nothing but red boxers below.
As the music intensi ed, so did the deconstruction. Tailoring loosened. More colours and materials emerged. Hair and makeup became playful rather than polished. By the end of the act, the suit had been dismantled, and corporate fatigue had set in.
Act 3: Childhood Dreams
is act shi ed the pace entirely. e walks became slower as the music so ened. is act felt dreamlike and disjointed, as if I had stepped into a memory.
One model wore a sheer, owing dress layered over bright yellow tights, while another stepped
out in a t-shirt, plaid shorts, and Timberlands. ese looks rejected the corporate world entirely, while others nodded to it. e styling felt mismatched, clashing, and experimental. A sharply tailored silhouette, unexpectedly paired with a long fur coat. A pink plaid-patterned dress over blue tights. It was intentionally confusing. A return to childhood dreams and ambitions before they were packaged into corporate job titles. Asking the question, who were we before the suit? Before university?
Act 4: Missing Home
In this act, cultural heritage moved to the forefront. e corporate silhouette remained visible, but the materials transformed it into something more experimental.
Angelika Santaniello’s look, designed by Gulia, stood out in particular. A owing yellow top and matching trousers in a satin-like fabric were described as “transcending archaic traditionalist con nes of a cultural uniform” e silhouette felt freeing, challenging the su ocating atmosphere of corporate London. Chiaki Ishiwata’s piece, modelled by Tamara Postlethwaite, pushed this idea further. A clear blazer paired with heels offered a literal transparency — a “deconstruction of the suit” that exposed rather than concealed. Inspired by the idea of being naked and fully authentic, the look stripped the corporate uniform back to its outline.
is act reclaimed the theme. No longer absorbed in the suits of London’s corporate sphere, cultural capital was reshaped into something less uniform.
Act 5: Choose Yourself
e nal act asked the question at the heart of the show: Can freedom coexist with the corporate dress code? Here, elements of the suit returned. Grey, black, and white fabrics reappeared but reshaped, with asymmetry and so er tailoring. e corporate material remained, but its authority had shi ed. One out t from this act featured pu ed sleeves with pointed shoulders, hip cutouts, and pinafore material tailored to the model’s body.
e line from the soundtrack, “the world is your oyster”, described this shi e student was no longer rejecting the corporate dress code but rede ning its boundaries.
e nal walk brought every model back to the runway. When seen together, the transformation was undeniable: the suit had moved from rigid uniform to something more exible, de ned by self-expression. What began in Act 1 as a reproduction of corporate conformity, by Act 5 had moved to a personal interpretation.
Once again, the RAG Fashion Show proved that creativity has not been lost at LSE. Bryon’s interpretation of ‘Culture Capital’ felt strikingly relevant to a university obsessed with a single trajectory. By reworking the traditional suit and the common aspiration behind it, the show highlighted the intersection of creativity and career, serving as a reminder that we still get to choose who we are inside the uniform.
