The lineup spoke fluent Westwood: draped and deconstructed silhouettes, gathered dresses with double skirts, tailoring cut just off balance. Colors clashed on purpose, with sour greens near reds — until the eye adjusted and chaos clicked into order. Kronthaler has long thrived on turning bourgeois classics inside out — warping jackets, loading corsetry into knits, twisting tartan into punk romance. Since Westwood’s passing, Kronthaler has shifted from careful custodian to provocateur, forging new hybrids instead of simply quoting the past. Saturday’s show advanced that shift: historic tunics, technical fabrics and second-skin underwear collided by design, not accident.