Nothing is certain right now, except for the unequivocal fact that we’re in a crisis. It seems that at every volume and frequency there’s talk of some kind of destruction, be it of the viral, economic, or psychological sort as the pandemic squeezes in on every aspect of our lives. With so much seemingly circling around the drain, it may seem frivolous to think about the future of fashion after COVID-19.
When we talk about fashion’s future and the coronavirus, we’re not discussing if fringe will still be in, or what some supermodel will post on social media, or if it’s ok to use a face mask as a fashion statement. We’re talking about an expansive industry that is predicated on trade and labor and creativity and art and music and environment and civil rights and politics and identity and community. And because of all those “ands,” it is indeed important to think about the pandemic’s effects on fashion not as an afterthought, and not in terms of trends (ugh), but as a real, living player in business, the humanities, workers’ rights, and the environment.
Sinking Retail
Retail accounts for about 10% of jobs in the United States. Just between February and March, clothing sales dropped by 50%. Hundreds of thousands of retail jobs in the US are on the chopping block, not to mention the millions of garment jobs lost worldwide (for example, a staggering 1 million jobs lost in Bangladesh alone).
It’s a strange time, all at once chaotic but also with the feel of suspended animation. We are very much in the process of experiencing a disaster in slow-motion, painfully aware of how delayed or insufficient our efforts to contain it may be.
Of course, after any destructive event, there are pillars that remain, and exactly what those will be is beginning to etch itself into the conversation around the future of fashion. Now that all the distractions of production timetables and promise of profitability have been cut away, we can see fashion’s potential – and its misgivings – in a clearer light.
What will we do with what remains?
To be clear, I don’t want to approach this issue with defiant fatalism nor with perverse optimism. What we’re going for is a frank inventory of the industry’s landscape, using perspectives from Vogue Global Conversations as our guide.
Vogue Global Conversations: Fashion after COVID-19
A week and a half ago, Vogue editors from around the world hosted interviews live via Zoom with industry leaders to discuss the future of creativity, runway shows, e-commerce, and brick-and-mortar retail. All four conversations, an hour a piece, are worth watching and they are available on this post.
If you don’t want to spend four hours watching other people talk (you’re forgiven), never fear: I’ve blocked out the major concepts and themes discussed for you below.
A “Reset Button Moment”
Even before coronavirus, it was clear to most that the industry needed significant change. Consumers and insiders alike have increasingly pushed for sustainability as dour climate data and reports of mass waste (hey there, Burberry and H&M) cast a critical lens on the industry’s ethos. There seemed to be a silent but nonetheless persistent, compelling drumbeat that boomed ever faster each year, demanding a constant supply of new and cheaply-made garments with little to no regard human and environmental consequences.
Pressure to produce five or more collections per year plagued high-end designers, who felt strapped for creative energy and were consequently flirting with near-constant burnout.
Read Vanessa Friedman’s article on J. Crew’s bankruptcy here
Brick-and-mortar stores already faced a dour future in 2020. Large department stores and most recently, J. Crew, struggled with paying rent on 15- to 20-year leases while consumer traffic diverted to online shopping. Even before COVID, department store icons from Barney’s to Sears tolled the death knell for big-time brick-and-mortar, each collapsing with the discordant thuds you’d expect from a dinosaur succumbing to Ambien (maybe Ambien mixed with a G&T. Things did not look good for retail coming into 2020).
So it was no surprise that, in a few words, Stella McCartney described our current situation to Vogue España Editor-in-Chief Eugenia de la Torriente as a “reset button moment.”
If there were ever a time to reset, it would be now.
The Only Way Forward is Through (Sustainability)
A terrifying, albeit long-overdue, silver lining in all of this is an intensified focus on sustainability. To me it resembles a more granular, deviant twin of the perspective gained after people saw the first images of Earth from space in the seventies. Instead of an image, confounding in its simplicity, that rallied the masses around the great hope of what we could accomplish from our tiny planet, this perspective is one grown of devastating, bitter evidence what is true but that we cannot see.
How remarkable, how terrible it is that inspiration from without – space – that showed Earth’s beautiful, earnest vulnerability, prompted little tangible action on an individual scale to reset our destructive course. Instead a far more earthbound, less visible fear from within has created massive changes in individual behavior in mere weeks.
So when de la Torriente said, “the worst that can happen is a return to normalcy,” it rang true. It’s taken us a sudden departure from what we thought was normal to realize that “normalcy” was really a path to destruction.
Photo via Vogue
The sustainability thread wound throughout the Vogue discussions, from which I’ve pulled the major bullet points – a checklist, if you will, for sustainable fashion after COVID-19:
- No more green lights on massive collections and millions of dollars worth of overstock and deadstock.
- Collections should be pared down, made to last many seasons, and planned well in advance to maximize access to sustainable materials.
- Sales should be minimized, as they provide demand in the pipeline of cheaply made and carbon-heavy products.
- “Waste is a design flaw,” as Gabriela Hearst so eloquently put it: sustainability needs to be central to design, not an afterthought.
- Runway shows should be designed around digital platforms instead of live presentations. Since they have enormous carbon footprints, as they draw hundreds of people from around the globe, having smaller, digital-centric shows would reduce environmental impact while reaching more people.
Flexibility in Business Models
Retailers have a long road ahead of them as massive layoffs continue and the economic outlook sours. For the short term, many companies have shifted their business online to avoid shuttering entirely. In the long term, as quarantine is lifted, purveyors of fashion after COVID-19 need to keep an ear to the ground and respond to customer demand. How will people’s expectations change, both as a result of the pandemic and as a continuation of existing market trends?
Pete Nordstrom, president and chief brand officer of (you guessed it) Nordstrom, is of the opinion that brick-and-mortar retail is largely outdated in the US. As the online sector grows, Nordstrom imagines the role of physical stores shifting; in fact, the brand has already made waves as an example of a responsive retail model. In 2017, Nordstrom opened the first of (now) five “local” stores in Los Angeles and New York. These locations have smaller footprints and aren’t designed to move lots of product. Instead, they offer services like alterations, returns, and styling, which at first, at least to me, sounded … limp.
Thankfully for Nordstrom, their idea was anything but: customers frequenting Local stores spent two and a half times more than other customers.
Clearly, the brand has stumbled upon a retail sweet-spot, very possibly signaling the way forward for brick-and-mortar.
The Retail Evolution of Fashion After COVID-19
CEO of Tory Burch Pierre-Yves Roussel and Vittorio Radice, CEO of Italian retail giant la Rinascente S.p.A, would agree. In their conversation with Nordstrom, headed by Vogue Italia Editor-in-Chief Emanuele Farneti, the emphasis on smaller retail spaces that provide services, experiences, and gathering places ran strong.
Looking at the big picture of fashion after COVID-19, it’s no wonder that interaction-based, experiential spaces are so promising. According to Roussel, 82% of Generation Z customers crave an in-store option to disconnect from the seeming totality of the online world. Yet instead of offering a traditional department store feel, where success is measured in terms of sales per square feet, post-corona retail will be more service- and less sales-oriented.
What we’re looking at is an evolution of the old showroom model. Online branding and sales merge with a highly localized, welcoming enclave for customers, much like the Ladies’ Lounge in Nordstrom but with stroller maintenance and personal shopping services.
In a time when we are isolated by necessity, the thought of gathering in a lushly-appointed mini-Nordstrom, where I imagine there must be liberal supplies of coffee and scones, is incredibly appealing. It does seem like a natural way to merge our love of online shopping and in-store experiences, although I wonder how universal this model will be, especially given increases in income disparity. Will stores catering to lower-income clients adopt similar models? I find it hard to imagine – but then again, I thought the “Nordstrom Local” idea was limp, so what do I know?
Creativity is Constant (even if put on hold)
Marc Jacobs said it best in his conversation with British Vogue Editor-in-Chief Edward Enninful: “Creativity will never stop. It is absolutely essential.”
Yes.
We’re humans, it’s what we do. We’re the only animals that use clothing, and one of the few that create art (although I know that is very much up for debate). When we’re under pressure or in uncertain times is when devastatingly interesting, relevant, connective art happens.
What’s apparent, though, is that creativity can idle in isolation. Even Jacobs expressed how difficult it is to create a collection remotely – so much so that he will not prepare anything for Spring 2021. The loss of a communal workspace for him and his team has drained the fuel from his creative engine, one that thrives on collaboration in situ.
While Jacobs appears to have entered a forced lull, other designers have been able to work remotely with their teams. Both Balenciaga and Balmain have voiced their intentions on designing new collections through the stay-at-home order. It goes to show how inspiration grows differently for different people in different settings, under different circumstances.
Photo via Vogue
Scheduling Fashion After COVID-19
We’ve heard designers comment on the shackles of a strict, mechanized production calendar for years now, and as supply chains and creative processes alike sputter to a halt, now’s the time to listen. Not only would a relaxed production schedule have environmental benefits, as mentioned above, but it would allow for a more organic creative workflow for the designers.
Saint Laurent put out a statement last week saying as much, and it would come at no surprise if more houses followed suit. After all, more time with the design team means that pieces can be more thoughtfully produced and curated, avoiding bloated collections (I’m looking at you, Dolce and Gabbana).
From the creative perspective, designers such as Kenneth Ize are hoping to steer fashion into the role of storyteller. There is, after all, so much more to fashion than trends and status (that’s, like, the whole purpose of this blog). It’s an artisanal process, laden with tradition, politics, identity, nature, and industry. It’s art. Give the artists time to work. And give consumers the time to enjoy their creations – neither creation nor consumption of art should be hurried.
No More Fashion Week?
Of course, this has implications for fashion weeks, as designers who deviate from the twice-yearly showing schedule would mount their runways on their own good time (the nerve!). Now, what this means as far as carbon footprint, digital platforms, and the death of fashion week remains to be seen. No doubt there will be plenty of twists and turns, creative solutions and idiotic ones, whiners, cheerleaders, and everything in between; regardless, we have a promising future of innovation ahead of us.
On Empathy and Introspection
There are two ways to consume fashion, and most of us use some mixture of both:
1.) Fashion as a gilded shield, used to impress, fit in, one-up each other, or as a status symbol; or
2.) Fashion as a means to connect your inner life with your environment and community, to tell a story, to express all that’s gorgeous and ugly about our humanity.
Ok, I realize that’s a bit dramatic, but for me, that’s what’s real. Humans, after all, are the ONLY animals to use – and in fact, need to use for the most part – clothing. Fashion is purely human.
As much as possible, I try and approach fashion from the place of point 2, one of sincerity, appreciation, introspection, and connectivity. As an art form. That’s not a viewpoint I’ve heard much from in the fashion community. There is, after all, no less cringeworthy comment on a couture show than “cute outfit!” I never know how to stutter through an appropriate response to that.
Fashion After COVID-19: The Only Question that Matters
If we learn anything about fashion after COVID-19, I hope that it’s that mindless consumerism serves no one (except the 1% – see, you can’t separate politics and fashion, people).
So it’s of no surprise that my heart exploded when Virgil Abloh said to Angela Cheung, Editor-in-Chief of Vogue China, that we need to reclassify “fashion not as a vain profession, but as a humanitarian one,” changing the “logic from pure vanity to humanity.”
Photo via Vogue
Um, YES. I’ll have what he’s having. That is the crux of it all – the myriad problems fashion faces, from appropriation to environmental issues to labor mismanagement, these are all humanitarian issues. So why don’t we act as humanitarians?
That question is a BIG one, and one that I’d love to write on further. In a nutshell, it’s a poorly-regulated industry with shareholders to answer to, a growing class of low-income consumers who rely on fast fashion, and a serious crisis of morality on a cultural level.
Obviously, we’re up against gargantuan problems – but Marc Jacobs had a good suggestion of where to start, in the form of a simple question: “How can I better love myself so that I can serve others?”
Trite, yes; absolutely necessary, YES. His is the question we should all be asking ourselves at this very moment, when we’re cooped up and stressed out and scared and angry and so, so sick of smelling our own breath in our face masks at Trader Joe’s. The need to take care of ourselves and others has never been greater than right now. Listen to art, to science, and to what you and your community needs – and I think we’ll all make it out changed, but for the better.
love,
Stig.
Cover photo: Vogue, December 2019, Stella McCartney photographed by Annie Leibowitz
