
How Avavav became the kings of runway stunts
When the fashion scene becomes a theatrical stage
March 20th, 2025
In an industry where the goal is often to project effortless grandeur, Avavav has made an art form out of controlled chaos. This past Milan Fashion Week, the brand quite literally dug itself a grave—then climbed out of it. In a dimly lit gallery space, models emerged from a dirt pit, covered in blood and soil, embodying the fragile tension between control and surrender that has come to define the vision of Avavav’s Creative Director, Beate Skonare Karlsson. You may recognize the brand from seeing its bags breaking and heels snapping in FW23 or its SS23 spectacle of models intentionally tripping on the runway. Avavav’s shows have become unmissable moments of chaos and commentary, often the star of a viral moment. What started as a small Stockholm/Milan-based label has now cemented itself as a disruptor in the fashion industry, characterized by its out-of-the-box runway experiences that have given us humor, absurdity, and an almost scientific precision in orchestrated disaster.
The art of the stunt
Avavav’s runway theatrics started gaining viral traction with its SS23 show, where models deliberately stumbled and fell, mimicking a real-life awkwardness that the industry so often tries to conceal. The following season, Karlsson turned the spotlight on the “failure” of fashion itself: heels snapped, clothing unraveled, and even the set collapsed, making the entire show feel like the industry was coming undone at the seams—hailed by critics as both ridiculous and brilliant. Runway shows are known for pushing boundaries, but Avavav takes it further—turning the mundane into spectacle and making the show itself the art, beyond just the clothes. Each season, they focus on how fashion is experienced. For FW24, the brand experimented with audience participation—giving showgoers branded gloves and buckets of food and trash upon arrival, prompting them to throw these at the models while digital screens displayed hate comments Avavav had received online. It was a social experiment as much as it was a runway show, inspired by negative social media comments and the often toxic culture of online fashion discourse. The brand didn’t just make a scene; it made a statement.
Beyond the spectacle: does the fashion hold up?
With SS25, the brand literally took its theatrics to the track field. Models sprinted down the runway in a collaboration with Adidas Originals, dubbed by Beate Karlsson as a competition of “high fashion and low performance.” In a sport where speed is everything, Avavav reminded us that sometimes, the most memorable moments come from those who stumble. For the people behind the brand, it’s about subverting the seriousness of fashion itself. As Karlsson has described many times, these stunts are meant to inject humor into an industry that often feels very serious. By now, you can probably already hear the very obvious critique that the brand is facing. Avavav’s runway shows are entertaining, but do they eclipse the craftsmanship of the actual clothes? From the outside, it’s easy to view the brand as a master of virality rather than fashion innovation. However, a deeper look at the brand's designs reveals an equally clever playfulness in the garments.
The recent collaboration with Adidas signals a shift toward more refined construction and a deeper design ambition. The SS25 show fused technical sportswear with bold, oversized silhouettes. Standout pieces included the Moonrubber Megaride sneaker, which featured exaggerated bubble soles, and the Modified Superstar, an Adidas classic with detachable rubber toes, showcasing the brand's signature four-toe motif and warped aesthetic. In FW25, Karlsson toyed with goth and emo aesthetics, introducing deconstructed Victorian skirts and skeleton-inspired cutouts, contrasting feminine silhouettes with goth-infused sportswear. The brand has also gained attention for its infamous finger boots, which, like its runway shows, are both unconventional and intriguing. While Karlsson’s social experiments and slapstick chaos make the headlines, the actual clothing is steadily carving out its own place in the conversation. Avavav has walked the tightrope of brand identity, perhaps becoming too intertwined with its stunts season after season. Yet, as fashion becomes more digital, performative, and meme-driven, Avavav is writing the playbook for how a brand can thrive in the age of spectacle, where shock value is sometimes necessary for a smaller brand to get noticed on the big stage. Whatever Avavav is doing, it seems to be working—because we can’t look away.