What's happening at Tom Ford this season
Tom Ford showed three things in Milan last month: a leather blazer cut like a smoking jacket, a draped jersey column dress with a cowl back, and a pair of wide-leg trousers in a wool so light they moved like silk. Not reinventions. Refinements. The kind of work you only see when a house stops chasing the next thing and starts asking what the last thing was supposed to be.
This is Tom Ford under Haider Ackermann, his first full season as creative director. The appointment was announced in August, and the stakes were clear from the start. Tom Ford himself left in 2022. Peter Hawkings followed him out the door after two seasons. Ackermann inherited a house that had been about one man's idea of American glamour for two decades — and he's not trying to replace that idea. He's translating it.
The blazer
The smoking jacket came out fourth in the lineup, worn over a silk camisole and nothing else. It was cut in black leather with a shawl collar and a single button at the natural waist. The leather was soft enough to drape but structured enough to hold its line. This is the centre of the collection: a piece that reads as evening but behaves like day, that asks you to dress it down instead of up.
Ackermann's done this before. At his own label, he built a reputation on blurring the line between undone and considered — silk trousers worn low on the hip, blazers left open, shirts half-tucked. That sensibility is here, but it's been sharpened. Tom Ford the house has always leaned into precision. Ackermann's keeping that, but he's loosening the grip.
The blazer is also a direct reference to Yves Saint Laurent's Le Smoking, which makes sense. Tom Ford's most famous years were at Gucci and then at YSL, where he leaned hard into that archive. Ackermann worked under Raf Simons and spent years studying Belgian and Parisian tailoring. The through-line is clear: both men understand that a blazer is a frame, and the work is in what you leave out.
The dress
The jersey column came midway through the show, and it was the quietest thing on the runway. No embellishment, no cutouts, no visible seams. Just a cowl back that draped to the small of the spine and a hemline that skimmed the ankle. The fabric was a matte black jersey with enough weight to hang straight but enough give to move when the model walked.
This is Ackermann's signature — the kind of dress that looks like nothing on the hanger and everything on the body. It's also a departure from what Tom Ford the man used to show: his dresses were about structure, about the cut doing the work. This dress is about the body doing the work and the fabric following.
It's worth noting that Ackermann showed a similar dress at his own label in 2017, in a deep plum silk. That one had a higher neckline and a more dramatic drape, but the principle was the same: one piece, no distractions, all presence. At Tom Ford, he's scaled it back even further. The neckline is simpler. The drape is cleaner. The colour is black, which is both the safest choice and the hardest one to get right.
The trouser
The wide-leg trouser showed up in three variations: in black wool, in cream linen, and in a charcoal pinstripe. All three sat at the natural waist, broke once at the ankle, and had a front pleat that opened when the model walked. The wool version was the strongest — light enough to move but substantial enough to hold the line through the hip and thigh.
This is the piece that's going to move. Not because it's new — wide-leg trousers have been in rotation since 2019 — but because it's specific. The rise is higher than what The Row showed last season but lower than what Khaite's been doing. The break is longer than what you'll find at Toteme but shorter than what Lemaire's been cutting. It's a trouser that works if you're five-foot-three or five-foot-ten, which is rarer than it should be.
Ackermann also showed it styled two ways: with a tucked silk shirt and a leather belt, and with an oversized cashmere sweater worn loose. Both work. The first reads as tailored, the second as borrowed. The trouser holds either direction, which is the point.
What it means
Tom Ford is no longer about Tom Ford, and Ackermann's not pretending otherwise. He's taking the house's vocabulary — sharp tailoring, liquid jersey, unapologetic glamour — and translating it into something quieter, something that doesn't announce itself from across the room. The question for the next twelve months is whether that's what people want when they reach for the label.