When Rio Uribe staged his spring show in Los Angeles last November — titled A Poem and a Protest — he didn’t expect to be back with a sequel so soon. But the time between seasons offered no breathing room, and the urgency of what he was responding to hadn’t subsided. ICE raids had intensified across the country, anti-immigrant sentiment was rising, and Uribe felt he had no choice but to continue the conversation. So he brought it to New York.

The fall 2026 show, held at Jean’s restaurant and titled A Poem and a Protest: II, opened with Bronx-based post-punk duo Planta Industrial — their name a deliberate play on the term “industry plant” — before the runway began. The performance was loud in volume and unambiguous in message, culminating in a screamed “F*CK ICE” before the first model walked. Some sponsors had already dropped out over the subject matter, a development Uribe acknowledged backstage with a clarity that matched the rest of the evening. “I think freedom of speech is really important right now,” he said. “I just wanted to fight the censorship.”

The clothes themselves were built for the same register. Due in part to the tight turnaround, many pieces from the November show were updated in new colourways and adapted for a colder New York climate — high-vis puffer shoulder pads and trapper hats among the additions. Signature plaids ran across most silhouettes, carrying the grungy gender fluidity Uribe has always been known for. Slinky mini pieces appeared throughout — pleated skirts, a metallic bikini top — alongside the sportiness that has become a deliberate design philosophy. As in the first chapter, the clothes were meant to be “resilient enough for a protest.”

The line between models and dancers blurred as the performance expanded across the entire stage, the crowd in front becoming part of the show itself — a multitude of identities on display at once. That was the point Uribe has been making across both chapters: that immigrants are not a monolith. “We’re multifaceted, and some of us are punk, some of us are gangsters, and some of us are industry professionals,” he said. “I want that to be visible and apparent.” At a time when many designers are making “subtle statements about the global landscape,” Uribe is doing something considerably less subtle — and considerably more honest about what that actually requires.