de·coy
ˈdēˌkoi
noun
A bird or mammal, or an imitation of one, used by hunters to attract other birds or mammals.
A trap, a lure.
verb
lure or entice (a person or animal) away from an intended course, typically into a trap.
The Blood Moon Prelude
It was the night before the blood moon eclipse in Los Angeles, and the city felt like it was holding its breath. The invitation demanded black attire, so I cloaked myself accordingly, slipping into Teodoremata’s world like an elegant shadow. At the door, a man clocked me: “Love your outfit. Invitation or ticket?”
“Invitation. Narcissist.”
He laughed, and I shot back, “Yes, bitch,” smiling as as he sent me into the direction of the green room.
Inside the green room, screens flickered: a lone polar bear wandering across a wasteland of white ice, flashes of Elephant — Teo’s first Los Angeles chapter —flashes of gang life bleeding into the reel. Survival on repeat. Decoy is said to be the continuation of Elephant. I’m intrigued to say the least.
Then we were escorted into the main room. The first model emerged, moving birdlike as sounds of storks screeched in the background. The study of Decoy had begun.
The Masks We Wear
The opening sequence set the tone of the collection’s vocabulary: torn bra fragments delicately integrated into flowing gowns, their intimate nature made public and powerful. Feathers punctuated silhouettes throughout, nodding to 1920s Parisian glamour but subverting its optimism through deliberate distress. Blazers were reconstructed and paired with period bloomers, elevated with high collars, transforming undergarments into statements of defiant visibility. At the center of it all stood an unpainted horse in the middle of the runway, stripped down and raw, where models would pause to pluck a rose before moving forward.
Particularly striking were the bodysuits adorned with ponytail tassels, their hypnotic fringe movement making the models walk like elegant mares. This technique reached its most sophisticated form in the long gowns, where feathers graced the necklines and strategic gauze binding created a compelling tension between freedom and restraint.
The collection’s technical prowess revealed itself in the variety of silhouettes: tattered sheath dresses that turned destroyed lace into poetry, asymmetrical black and white lace pieces that made imperfection intentional, and a standout cream sheer dress so artfully torn that each step suggested haunting beauty emerging from damage.
A voluminous black lace gown with exaggerated padding created dramatic proportions, while bodycon pieces adorned with safety pins and screen printing elevated industrial grit to avant garde status. The finale dress, made entirely of pantyhose, stood out as the most conceptually ambitious piece, turning an ordinary material into something extraordinary through careful layering and reinvention.
The collection’s visual language operates on multiple levels of meaning. Earth tones dominate the palette muted beiges, faded browns, and oxidized colors that speak to camouflage and adaptation rather than bold statement-making.
The choice of materials deserves particular attention. Fabrics appear aged, worn, and deliberately fragmented not through careless handling but through careful curation. This aesthetic of controlled deterioration speaks to how trauma leaves its mark while also suggesting the beauty that can emerge from breakdown and reconstruction.
When the last model emerged, I thought of how a decoy works it lures, it distracts, it protects the truth hiding beneath. That’s what Teodoremata was doing. This collection; was unmasking of the masks themselves.
Growing Up as a Decoy
Later, Teo told me about the Collection:
The title Decoy was basically another chapter of the L.A. chapters. Obviously Elephant was about family trauma, motherly trauma, and kind of just like embracing that home that we were in. This one is more personal. It wasn’t really about my mom or dad, it was more about me.
The masks I had to put on a lot. I was around a lot of gang life. I was around a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to see as a child. I wore a mask a lot, that’s why I felt like I was a decoy a lot, because this is not really who I am. People don’t know that masculinity is a big thing where I grew up. I could tell a lot of masculine people were fighting against being masculine. So I guess in this show I wanted to show that. You know, that’s why the clothes still look feminine but with a masculine edge.
The Decoy Unmasked
By the last look, I understood. Decoy wasn’t about hiding it was about the cost of hiding. The exhaustion, the grief, the violence of erasure, and the fragile beauty of survival.
After the show, sitting next to Teo, I told him:
“As artists we are creators. The matrix doesn’t like that—that we are being our most authentic selves. That’s why the matrix throws us struggles. And that’s why we must keep creating our art.”
This is fashion as necessary art …beautiful, challenging, transformative. Just like the times we are living in now.
Exclusive Interview: Teodore Mata on Decoy
What was your thought process for this collection?
The title Decoy was basically another chapter of the L.A. chapters. Obviously Elephant was about family trauma, motherly trauma, and kind of just like embracing that home that we were in. This one is more personal. It wasn’t really about my mom or dad, it was more about me.
The masks I had to put on a lot. I was around a lot of gang life. I was around a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to see as a child. I wore a mask a lot, that’s why I felt like I was a decoy a lot, because this is not really who I am. People don’t know that masculinity is a big thing where I grew up. I could tell a lot of masculine people were fighting against being masculine. So I guess in this show I wanted to show that. You know, that’s why the clothes still look feminine but with a masculine edge.
About the score and space
Last season the score centered around my mother’s voice a lot. This one, it was more like my head. I tried to put my head in the score as best as I could, you know, using the monkey sounds and the storks. It’s my head, it’s literally the jungle.
I wanted a more intimate space this season because I felt like I needed to showcase the decoy in a space that was more controlled. Whereas last season it was a less controlled space.
What were your go-to materials and silhouettes this season?
My go-to are blazers. I really love blazers because they’re so elegant, but I really like to strip down the elegance of a blazer and create it my own way. I used a lot of pantyhose this season. I made a dress with a lot of pantyhose. I played with lace but not in the typical way—I basically killed the lace and put it back together.
I wanted all the clothes this year to feel more like clothes. Last year they felt like clothes but it felt more like big blobs, you know, the skirts and stuff. This year I was really trying my best to stay away from the canvas and more towards different silhouettes.
How did styling differ from last year?
Last year was a head gauze. This year we stripped it down with a wig cap. Wig cap is important—when you wear a wig, you wear a persona. I wanted the wig cap to be like I took it off almost.
We made boots out of gauze and introduced some accessories, a necklace, and an earring. There was screen-print-heavy stuff on the tailored jackets.
Tell us about the choreography and the props used.
The space is so controlled. I told the models the space is small, so your theatrics have to be to the next level. That’s why getting the horse was so important to us—because it was the representation of the decoy.
The horse isn’t painted, it’s stripped down to where the horse is a horse and recognizable but not complete with fur. The chain was really for the models to feel a sense of control, because a lot of the models feel very controlled in the spaces they’re in. The chain was there to unleash yourself.
What do you hope for the future of fashion?
I hope that it slows down. I like to practice a collection a year. I might do a collection in a year and a half. I want it to slow down.
Since Elephant I have felt the pressure to live up to certain things, especially because we got featured in V Magazine and King Kong and had the celebrity pulls. Now I feel eyes on the brand and so every season I have to outdo myself. I hope it slows down and I hope they understand I need to breathe first. Then I can come back. But I also don’t want to lose out on opportunities.
Why show in Los Angeles?
I show in L.A. because I’m from L.A. I plan to have five chapters here. In San Francisco we did four. I want to have five here, so three more to go. I just think showing in L.A. is really on point with who we are, and everything showcased is basically what I felt in Inglewood.
How did you approach makeup for this collection?
I always think less is more. You know, black lipstick is a little bit gothic, a little bit emo. We gotten that tag a lot, but not in the typical sense of goth.
And the world at large—what do you hope for?
I hope we can have peace in the news and in life. Everything feels negative, so I hope things can be more positive.
Written by: Kimberly Mortensen
Designs by Teodoremata