If you’ve ever fancied a weekend that smells faintly of latex, library books and light rebellion, the Barbican’s Dirty Weekend is basically your new spiritual home. It’s a two-day takeover promising “fashion and filth,” which is exactly the sort of marketing copy I trust. Expect talks, installations, screenings and a club night that dares your mascara to survive past 3am.
Saturday: foyer frontage and a 360° sweat session
Level G turns into a catwalk you can gossip through. Lots of bodies, lots of opinions, lots of outfits that look like they’ve got a past. Then there’s Dirty Weekend Live, a chat-meets-runway moment with designers like Di Petsa and Sinéad O’Dwyer. Think “therapy for your wardrobe” but with better lighting.
Then comes the night shift. Club Stamina rolls in with Mina Galán, Merca Bae, CRYSTALLMESS and New York. It’s a 360° bass-soaked fever dream where the visuals flirt harder than half of Soho. It’s sweaty, stylish and the sort of set that makes you text your ex at 1.47am, then remember you’re fabulous by 1.49am.
Sunday: the Pleasure Garden (hydrate, babe)
Sunday slows the grind and turns up the tease with Pleasure Garden: a Conservatory Takeover filled with readings, workshops and pop-ups about sex, desire and all the deliciously “dirty” stuff magazines still pretend to whisper about. It’s like eavesdropping on very clever people having pillow talk.
Programme highlights include a Keynote Panel, the short film SHINY by Content Warning and a pair of 16:30 sessions that force you to choose between juicy conversation (Dirty Queers with Amelia Abraham and Bryony White) or actually participating in the fun. Choose wisely and try not to get FOMO.
HOWL x Barbican: lube your mind and a T-shirt
The HOWL collab adds some charming chaos. There’s T-shirt screenprinting with vintage club poster art, speed dating for all genders, and a session called Sex in the Age of AI which is basically Black Mirror but with better taste. Bring a tee, bring questions and bring your best “what’s your sign” opener.
The clever tie-in: Dirty Looks for a tenner
Flash your Dirty Weekend ticket and you get the blockbuster exhibition Dirty Looks for £10. It’s a delicious bargain. Inside you’ll find 120 pieces from over 60 designers who treat grime like a design technique. Mud-caked gowns, paint-splattered denim, shredded lace that looks like emotional damage in fabric form. It’s fashion at its most feral and fantastic.
So… should you sacrifice your good tights
Short answer: absolutely. Longer answer: the Barbican has finally loosened its corset and it shows. Saturday builds from artsy strutting to a full-body rave; Sunday gives you conversation, community and a touch of afterglow. You’re not just watching it happen. You’re part of it.
The £10 exhibition neatly ties the bow. After wading through the philosophical muck, you get to see fashion’s dirtiest laundry framed and lit to perfection.
Babestation-adjacent takeaways (Reede’s naughty cliff notes)
- Bodies tell the story. Whether it’s a Di Petsa water fantasy or the club sweat baptising your fringe, the body is the billboard.
- DIY is sexy. Print the tee, tweak the fit, remix your pleasure education. Agency is a turn-on.
- Community beats spectacle. The speed dating and participatory panels were the real afterglow.
Reede’s tips if you’re going
- Do both days if you can. Rave first, flirt and nerd out later. Your serotonin will applaud.
- Bring a spare tee for the HOWL print lab and a tote for the zines.
- Add the £10 exhibition. It doubles the filth-to-fashion payoff.
Verdict: dirty, clever and surprisingly joyful. The Barbican has proved grime can be glamorous and that pleasure, when curated properly, counts as public service. See you on the dancefloor.
