If there’s one thing I’m here for, it’s flipping the narrative, and that’s precisely what Mowalola did with her 2025 runway show at the GTCO Fashion Weekend 2025. Intentionally or not, the message was loud: men, cover up; women, express yourself.
For years, her designs have carried a signature language, leather, streetwear, individuality, always daring, always for a niche audience that doesn’t ask for permission. Mowalola’s world has never been for everyone; it’s for those who see fashion as a means of self-expression, not a uniform.
Looking back at her previous collections, both men and women were given room to play with form, body, and boldness. But this season, something shifted. The women came out in hot pinks, reds, silvers, light, bright, alive. The men? Fully covered, in muted tones and layered looks that almost said, You take the backseat this time.
It’s ironic, really. Traditionally, women have been told to cover up, to hide, to tone down, to protect others from their own presence, while men have always had the freedom to bare it all. Shirtless on beaches, chest out in music videos, legs out in designer shorts. However, Mowalola reversed that balance here. She wrapped the men up and told the women to breathe. To be seen. To own colour, skin, and space.
And yet, it didn’t feel like rebellion for rebellion’s sake. It wasn’t moral, and it wasn’t a matter of modesty versus exposure. It was just an expression. The kind that says this is me without apology. The kind that asks: what if women’s bodies were the canvas for their self-expression?
The looks themselves said as much as the color palette. Against that, the men’s full-length coats and high collars almost felt like a quiet protest: a rebalancing of who gets to be seen. Even their posture was different; women strode, men were contained. The contrast wasn’t accidental; it was choreography.
Modesty, after all, is a patriarchal invention. A system of control built to tame women under the guise of virtue. History tells the story: in ancient societies, Rome, Greece, and even pre-Victorian England, women’s clothing often celebrated the body. Draped fabrics, visible shoulders, fluid shapes. Modesty became moral currency only when power shifted, when religion and patriarchy needed a way to dictate worth through coverage. The less you showed, the more “good” you were.
What Mowalola did was hand that power back. She didn’t say be naked, she said be yourself. Whether that’s a thigh-high boot or a zipped-up bodysuit, the choice is yours.
And maybe that’s what her 2025 show really whispered beneath the leather and light: that covering and uncovering can both be acts of power, when they belong to you.
