THE END OF "GRANDIOSE AND GLITTERS" - THOUGHTS ON POST PANDEMIC DECADENCE

Hi ZoNeRz,

I’m officially home office, which means despair and lack of social interactions, so you can be sure that my brain has a lot of time to go places, build on my opinions and overall do the ridiculous things it does. The current situation obviously pushes me to reflect on crisis periods and to assess where we are in terms of aesthetic and overall global Zeitgeist (I am indeed very much into aesthetics, for proof, you can read this).

I can’t help but witness, with the turning upside down of our whole capitalistic system, the major transformational period fashion is going through: half revenue hiatus, half mild panic that this unprecedented break in the fashion cycles as we know them will change the industry forever. Have we reached the maturity of the Glitters and Grandiose era of fashion? If so, what will the future look like?

I intend on this article not being the mere remash of the state of fashion 2020 or an in depth analysis of processes, supply chains, distribution channels, e-commerce transformations, that you would find on BOF, but more of an assessment of where fashion is heading (as you would do it personally for #SelfDevelopment) .

The nostalgia ticking time-bomb

Throughout my time having to dress myself, and my (too) religious analysis of Vogue, I’ve come to the obvious conclusion that fashion is an eternal do over. The cycle usually goes as follows: a cut, a pattern, a garment goes on trend on the runway. Then it is widely adopted by the greater public (thank you fast-fashion), and, naturally, goes out of fashion in a span of 2 months to a year. The more niche/ specific the trend was, and usually the more widely it was adopted in popular culture, the more its going “out of fashion” will induce a mockery for anyone daring enough to be wearing the item once it has lost the validation of the fashion sphere authority (aka Kendall Jenner, Bella Hadid … I know, sad). Had you flaunted a full early 2000 look in 2012: low rise jeans , tiny sunglasses and visible thong, you would have been considered a moron. But if you are a savvy fashionista, you know that keeping those merely controversial items in your closet is smart because they will be gems and completely trendy about 20 years later.

The early 2000’s end of 90’s fashion is no exception to this familiar recurring do-over. Staring at models’ street style, it is undeniable that colourful classic cotton jumpers, tiny sunglasses, satin and silk everything, spaghetti straps are IN. We’ve even witnessed a couture visible thong moment that was amazingly reminiscent of Britney’s heyday (Hailey at the 2019 Met Gala , thank you Alexander Wang). As for designers, Versace’s loud comeback and its very intelligent marketing/ design strategy focused on reminiscing its grandiose Gianni-Miami-Mansion-JLoJungle dress-extravaganza era also feeds into this 90s early 2000s comeback.

And who better to embody the return of those trends than the women who proudly flaunted them in the first place. The media is cashing in on the aura of the iconic the 90s supermodels. When the latters are not busy making being in your 50s crazy sexy by showing off their intact and even more refined bone structures on Instagram (Helena Christensen), on the cover of major fashion magazines (Elle McPherson) and being the faces of activist movements (Amber Valetta, Christy Turlington), their younger selves appear endlessly on our screens looking fabulously decadent at indoor-smoking after show parties (hi Carla, hi Naomi and Kate). Vintage imagery is extremely popular right now, notably on Instagram where a lot of accounts dedicated to nostalgically looking back on those fashion golden eras are blistering (e.g @velvetcoke). The recent passing of photographers who participated heavily in crafting the visual identity of of those 2 decades, Peter Lindbergh and Peter Beard (to a smaller extent, but he did some pretty iconic photoshoots too), has only been feeding into the modern narrative where Millenials and GenZ (or maybe just me) are longingly looking back at what seem to be a long lost fashion paradise. It seems that whether you tune in to traditional fashion media or on social platforms (like pinterest or IG), you can’t escape snapshots of past Pirelli calendars or nostalgic photographs of celebs at the end of nineties Oscars.

This shift in popular imagery was already shedding light on the profound problems of the fashion sphere and popular culture as we have known it for the last 10 years

If a comeback of visuals from the past is healthy and very common because fashion and, more broadly, on trend Aesthetics just repeat themselves, this time, the heavy romanticising and melancholy that comes along with what could just be a fun throwback makes me think that this shift in popular imagery was already shedding light on the profound problems of the fashion sphere and popular culture as we have known them for the last 10 years.

First of all, I think that the appeal of the late 90s early 00s stems directly from the fact that this era is the last that fostered a sense of mystery. These were the last years when glamorous parties were not live streamed, when every second of the lives of the supermodels were not displayed on their IG stories (or worse, on their Youtube channels), when, for better or for worse, the sphere of luxury seemed more unattainable because the general public couldn’t quite get a precise taste of what was going on behind the scenes. Don’t get me wrong, information accessibility has blessed us with a tremendous amount of opportunities, but has also unveiled the nasty side of the world of absolute glamour and the nasty side of humankind as a whole.

Woke but disenchanted

First, we are now well acquainted with the unethical side of fashion (fur, fast fashion, dubious material sourcing and working standards in big manufactures) and the disastrous effects our obsession with clothes has on our environment. It is increasingly more complicated now to step into an H&M and grab a skanky tank top without feeling a sense of guilt. Not saying that it is a bad thing, it just contrasts with the ingenuity and the sweet innocence that gently coated Carrie’s Fabulous shopping sprees in the early days of Sex and the City for example. Moreover, the glamourized lifestyle of models has been revealed to be quite grim, not to say extremely violent at times. Between being incentivised to always lose more weight, being silently mistreated, overly sexualized and victims of power abuse on sets of photoshoots (Richardson’s, Testino’s amongst others) when they were sometimes as young as 14 years old, it seems that those women who embodied the dream in the public eye were living a way less hedonistic life than what everybody imagined.

Along with the woke movement, designers are now scrutinised by millions of eyes and brands are at the mercy of the ultimate judge of public opinion, social media. Dubious looks seen on the runways of major luxury institutions, disturbingly reminiscent of another small designer creations (@dietparada), cultural appropriation, or to simply (stupid) communication/ marketing errors (Dolce and Gabanna’s 2018 culture sensitive scandal towards Chinese people, Kendall Jenner infamous Pepsi endorsement) are quick to trend, to rallye people behind their screens, a mass of eyes and hashtags that is powerful enough to “cancel” anyone/ any brand. Again, not necessarily saying that calling out plagiarism (especially when it is to protect smaller brands), or denounce offensive appropriation/ depiction of culture is a bad thing, but the scale of the scandals when they breakout, the violence constituted by the comments/ tweets thrown out on the web, the witch hunts (digging into someone’s tweets from 10 years ago for example) and how brands, sometimes individuals are dragged publicly is unprecedented. Seeing the bruise left by (stupid and serious) mistakes spread to all the areas and length of someone’s career is, first, painful to watch and second makes all the people behind their 280 characters opinions seem like they have forgotten that they are not perfect either.

The chicken or the egg problem remains, did we really want more, or did the pressure of markets and scrutiny of investors on sales and profit persuade us that we needed all of this

From a business standpoint, as much as the Fabulous and Glittery era of fashion we knew until now tried to seem glamorous, it was highly dysfunctional. COVID-19 pandemic seems to have hit a pause button to enable everyone in the industry to take a well-deserved break in the constant race for novelty that was/ is (I don’t really know anymore) quintessential to the fashion business. Designers were well-knowingly burnt-out by the demands of fashion cycles as we knew them since the last decades : 4 to 6 collections per year for ready-to-wear, if you are doing Haute Couture, brace yourself for 2 extra workloads on top of that, maybe a capsule here and there to polish your cool factor, but bare in mind everything has to be brand new. If you dare to revisit a little too closely your previous performances, @DietPrada is watching (no shade, I love them). We’ve seen the Inferno eating Yves Saint Laurent alive, Virgil Abloh has publicly said he would step back for a while because his pace of work was not sustainable, and Jeremy Scott, the beloved creative director for Moschino, has even materialized the absurdity of this speed to create in his Spring Summer 2019 collection (refresher: his clothes looked like they were sketches of potential finished garments, thrown on the runway because the designer wouldn’t actually have had the time to finish them). Absolutely genius in my opinion, so much sarcasm instilled in impeccable cuts and aesthetics. On the driver seat of this frenzy though, us, consumers, always screaming for more: content, quantity, creativity, accessibility, more more more please. The chicken or the egg problem remains, did we really want more, or did the pressure of markets and scrutiny of investors on sales and profit persuade us that we needed all of this. On top of the Marie Kondo/ Minimalist movements, the unprecedented situation we find ourselves in has put things into perspectives: as much as I still advocate for day-to-day glam, I’d lie if I said I hadn’t spent a good chunk of my time wearing sweatpants and the same ribbed cropped top.

The injonction of newness and revenues for sure made brands work harder, demand more from their people, while holding their standards and increasing their margins. It resulted in a pressuring work environment and long working hours: saying that the schedule of a marketing product manager (development or operational) in any luxury Maison was hectic was a major understatement.

So what now? Between disenchanted, over informed consumers, tired designers, burnt out fashion workers, it seems impossible to return to business as usual. But fashion isn’t going anywhere, historically it has survived all curveballs time has thrown its way. The dream will just adapt to a new post-apocalyptic paradigm. It would be foolish to imagine that fashion will still be this transcendental fabulous sphere that created a fantasy only enviable because we didn’t have access to it and we didn’t know what was happening behind the scenes. This former world disconnected from reality, insensitive to a number of issues we are now “awoken” to, can no longer be. Now that the curtains are wide open, we’ll have to create the new ethical, sustainable aesthetic, that would emanate from everyday life, from the mystery of what the endless stream of content hasn’t shown us already.

Out with the old, in with the new

Going out of confinement how will the fashion-sphere morph (or not) to create the new post-apocalyptic fantasy? Glad you asked ZonErZ, if you know me, you know that creating potential future scenarios in my mind outlining future events is my drug of choice (cue to me meticulously planning all my interactions with my crushes over the years … No wonder I’m single). So let’s imagine what will come next shall we?

A predictable minimalism and return to basics

Highsnobiety said it, it seems that quarantine breeds a generation immunized shoppers, meaning drops and having the freshest shit has much less value than it used to. A strong return to basics and a global less attractive effect of logos is thus predictable. Mirroring what happened after 2008, we’ll likely see a massive return of earthly/ neutral colors, classic shapes, a glorification of what one might call wardrobe basics. It doesn’t mean that a hype silhouette is to disappear in my opinion. Fashion literacy and being “in-the-know” is more important than ever and will stay this way. In an environment where all information is accessible via a simple Google search there is an immense sense of pride in wearing/ recognizing more obscure street brands, confidential-ish collaborations. It is like being part of the cool-kids club.

Basic yes, but in-the-know, exclusive and most importantly COMFORTABLE

Practically how do I see it? A crisp Loro Piana cashmere hoodie with a solid ever-so-slightly cropped Levi’s 501 (we are still obsessed with butts, no better denim to shape your cheeks), that would reveal the tops of your Jordan’s 1 (even more hyped after the massive popularity of “The last Dance”) - the collab with Off-White of course. Basic yes, but in-the-know, exclusive and most importantly COMFORTABLE. As a lot of us have surfed the working-from-home wave, we’ve discovered the sheer pleasure of “leisurewear”, a fancy term for day-time pyjamas. It is now more and more accepted to show up in Zoom meetings in a version of comfortable clothing that has close to nothing to do with formal business attire from 20 years ago. The one-wardrobe movement was already gaining momentum before the COVID situation, and now it is utterly natural to wear the same pair of leggings to work, jump on your mat for a nice Instagram Live YogaFlow session before travelling to the kitchen to pour yourself a well-deserved drink that you’ll enjoy with your friends over a visio get- together/ socially-distanced boiler room (if your friends are cool enough). I don’t know about you, but for me this trend is not going anywhere after I’m allowed to go outside. Besides, working in tech, I have to say that having a proper business wardrobe, if it already didn’t make much sense up until February, won’t be a thing anymore for me going forward.

The new unconfined decadence

If the return of 90’s imagery has shown anything, it is that we crave the subversive decadence an earlier era of fashion gave us a glimpse of. Coming up with a whole new system of values, communication, imagery, social gathering, garments, atmosphere that would scratch this itch, post-pandemic in a world more informed, aware and cynical than ever seems challenging to imagine. But I love myself a good challenge, so here is my take on it.

Let’s first define decadence: it’s a Moral decline in over indulging in something. In other words, it’s so good that I can’t stop … A few examples in context: “I ate all 16 Pierre Hermé macarons, I know it’s not vegan but it’s so good. I’m soOoOo Bad, how decadent” or “And then I took the most decadent 3-hour nap, on a Tuesday, when I was supposed to work”, you get the point. If we take the definition game a step further, the noun confine refers to the borders, or the boundaries of a space in regards to restricting their liberty of movement. Ladies and gentlemen, there it is: freedom of space, that’s what would feel good now that we have the same physical limits as the 4 walls of our apartments. That is also precisely what we seem to need in a global atmosphere where form-fitting is ruling: from tight workout clothes, to butt-clinging Kardashian uniforms (jeans, dresses, jumpsuits, bike-shorts, you name it, as long as it’s tight and revealing enough). So, in practice, what would be “So good that it’s bad?”: maxing out everything. Flowy large shirts, oversized jackets, fluid skirts, non bum-fitting jeans. Anything that leaves substantial room between where you are obligatory confined, aka the physical limits of your body, and the closest thing to you that you willingly confine in everyday, your clothes. Maybe it won’t be flattering to the shape of your body, maybe if you are a woman, it won’t accentuate all that makes you seem more fertile in the eyes of potential mates (read, shoulders to waist to hips ratio), but DAMN it would feel so good.

Second, having been stuck at home on our own for a while now, we all know what would feel like the absolute most decadent thing to do : indulge in extensive physical contact (wink wink). Further than the sexual uproar you all see coming, I envision clandestine super selective and secretive parties thrown in underground minuscule clubs, overpacked on purpose. Picture ecstatic guests, surrendering to the sheer pleasure of, after a few drinks, being so close to their neighbor on the dancefloor that they don’t really know where their own body ends (it sounds oddly sexual … sorry not sorry).

Lastly, we have experienced the huge toll a constant stream of information can have on mental health on a day to day basis, but how it’s even heavier in a time of crisis. I thus envision the new decadence as a conscious return to ingenuity. More than a digital detox it would be a way to escape : a decadent innocence. It would mean a return to slow communication, a counter movement to the data driven health industry and the self-improvement call to awareness. Presence by pure, undocumented, ingenue hedonism. I know what you are thinking, it sounds like meditation; it sounds like slow-life living etc. But decadence needs toxicity to have its appeal and seem fun. So here is what I see: chain smoking real cigarettes and hiding the warnings on the packs, take a subversive tan without any SPF in the Maldives, having only one trash bag where you put cardboard and glass, not having a smartphone but go about life with a Nokia 3310. A bad enough behaviour that would be disapproved and considered insensitive on Twitter, while sparking that envy in the eyes of other people, because you can live “as if you didn’t know”. I am not saying this is a way that I want to live my life, I just see that kind of lifestyle as the epitome of “bad” indulgence in the world we live in.

I’d finish by this. Physical confinement, and what will come next might also shed light on the fact that clothes are not confined to their physical reality either. We’ve seen it on ourselves - I have come to the conclusion that spending my days in dirty sweats was detrimental to the quality of my day … groundbreaking - but it is also true on a broader scale. Clothes are vectors to signal belonging, opinions, values. Brands might have to take that into account for their future creations .. I’ll sit tight and listen carefully to what exact story fashion will tell in the wake of those unprecedented times.

Mad love

<3