VS 2026: Still Taking Shape?

The VS Charity Fashion Show faces a challenge. St Andrews’ fashion ecosystem is, for a small university town, surprisingly crowded, and every show has carved out its own niche. FS offers more of a party than fundamentally a fashion show; DONT WALK offers exclusivity. In this landscape, VS is attempting something harder to sell: a professional, accessible, traditional fashion show – one where the focus is solely on the runway.

“Our show is seated,” explains Executive Director Gabriela Trauttmansdorff, “[at FS] everyone is in a huge crowd in front of the stage […] but our show attempts to approach it more like a fashion show that you would go to during Fashion Week."

Legitimacy forms part of the challenge. VS is a veritable newcomer. FS has been running since 1992, DONT WALK since 2001. By the time VS was founded in 2018, both competitors had been operating for almost two decades, accumulating the institutional legacy and brand relationships that only time can provide. VS’s own origins further complicate its identity. It launched as a DJ collective, a legacy still visible in its frequent partnerships with HAUS, before transitioning into a charity fashion show. That informal, social energy has never entirely left but is double-edged: it gives VS a warmth its competitors sometimes lack, but makes its claim to professional credibility harder to sustain.

That tension between accessibility and professionalism runs through how VS presents itself. With a committee of around twenty, with just under 25 models, and ticket prices ranging from £45 to £75, it is deliberately pitched as the approachable option: cheaper than FS, more welcoming than DONT WALK.

Those characteristics reflect the organisation's priorities. Confidence, Trauttmansdorff explains, is the quality they are looking for above all. “When you have confidence, no matter what you look like… You carry yourself in a way that draws people’s attention.” The technical elements — counting beats, picking up rhythm — matter too, but confidence is the foundation. “The biggest thing as a model is that you’re carrying the clothes; you want people to look at you.”

On Friday, 20 February, VS opened its doors. The show took place at SPACE’s auditorium, an intimate venue a ten-minute cab ride from South Street. We were offered a drink on arrival and were directed to our assigned seats. Trauttmansdorff was right: the seated approach made the audience comfortable judges rather than jostling fanatics. 

Lana del Rey set a sensual tone as the show began. The lights dimmed to reveal a Bond-esque display: shadows of backlit figures stretched across a sheer screen, the shapes of long legs forming an exaggerated, hypnotic effect. The screen was torn, and the models emerged. 

Prior to the show, we spoke with Assistant Creative Director Heidi Wright about this year’s theme, Shaped.

 “Shaped to me is about experiences and personalities. Everyone has gone through experiences that have changed them. I see it as going through life and how it's made me stronger, it's shaped me to be a stronger, more empowered person, and also showing that confidence in the show.”

Putting this confidence into action is integral to creating a convincing show. This was certainly demonstrated in the work of some designers, such as Zachary Armstrong-Corbett’s gothic shoulder spikes, romantic gowns, and a square-shouldered dress that was more like a vampiric cloak. There was also flair in Harmonious Designer’s bridal looks, featuring floral satins and bell-bottom trousers. Both these designers worked with drapery, offering silhouettes in keeping with this year’s theme.

The choice of certain other designers, however, seemed unconvincing and unjuried. While the committee’s ambition to collaborate with student designers across Scotland is an admirable one, it seems that, with showcasing over twenty brands, the “diverse mix of styles and designers” became unfocused rather than cohesively assembled.

If Shaped suggests being formed, then the artistic hand of St Andrews was seen in the inclusion of brands like Golf Shop and Spoiled Life. Offering between them golfwear and streetwear, these brands made sense in the show’s lineup. Brands like Oddball, however, stuck out like a sore thumb — the models might as well have held up signs saying ‘SPONSOR’ on the front. 

During the intermission, Creative Director Lynn Pustelnik introduced her charity, The Desert Flower Foundation, which fights to end the practice of female genital mutilation, as explained by a short film. Pustelnik chose the foundation after her mother gifted her a book written by the charity’s founder, Waris Dirie, linking Dirie’s impactful work to this year’s theme: “Her story is about how her experiences shaped her, and how she has worked to reshape the world to protect others.” It was heartening to know the show was contributing to such a meaningful cause.

The choreography of the second act of the show was strong, opening with black slip dresses and lace eye masks and set to Adele’s ‘Skyfall’. The sequence successfully drew attention to the movement and shape of models’ bodies while echoing the Bond opening of the first act. This, along with the impressive lifts performed by models Olivia Kallias and David Elumaro, were VS’s most memorable moments. The audience was certainly impressed.

The show closed with ‘Apocalypse’ by Cigarettes After Sex, the perfect bittersweet farewell song. After the final walk, the models reappeared with flowers alongside a confetti cannon and prosecco shower, with festivities continuing at the afterparty at The Vic.

By the standards of Milan, it was an incoherent mess. But nobody in that auditorium had paid for Milan. They had paid for a genuinely fun student night out, for the pleasure of watching their friends play at fashion designer, and on those terms, VS delivered. 

The question is whether VS is satisfied with those terms. The ambition on display suggests an organisation that wants to be taken seriously as a fashion show, not just a good night out. 

VS 2026 is not the show it wants to be. The artistic vision is there in flashes — in that opening sequence, in the lift, in the moments when a model forgets to be nervous and just performs. The charitable intent is genuine. The community is real. But the show does not yet know how to concentrate these qualities into a coherent whole. The theme is too broad, the curation too diffuse, the run-time slightly too long.

The shows that endure are the ones that have the confidence to make difficult choices: to cut pieces that do not serve their vision; to say, our show will be 45 minutes and extraordinary rather than 90 minutes and uneven.

Lynn Pustelnik chose her theme because she believes that being shaped — by experience, by pressure, by time — makes you stronger. It is a generous and intelligent idea. VS, as an organisation, is being shaped right now. The question is, what will it become?

Photo: Alisa Senses