NYFW’s Crisis of Creativity: The Season of Pastiche

I have a special sort of disdain that I reserve for trends. So when asked to write about trends this NYWF I thought I would find myself in a special place of misery. However,  this season I found the trend to be fascinating. I kept looking for a fabric, a cut, an accessory, a shared reference, for something that stood out as a “trend” of the season. But that’s not what stuck out to me.

While you might not consider it a trend, it was inarguably the theme of the week, what I’m talking about is pastiche. For the uninitiated pastiche is “an artistic work in a style that imitates that of another work, artist, or period”. Beyond the overarching listlessness that pervaded this year’s NYFW, was the inescapable sense that I’d seen all this before. Of course fashion is a reflection of itself, of course it’s self referencing, but this was different. It wasn’t a play on the idea, it wasn’t an evolution of the idea, it was just overt copy. Show after show I watched and rolled through my mental Rolodex of past runways and looks and came up with matches every time. Eckhaus Latta was doing Dries, Calvin Klein was doing…well, something of a poor imitation of its 90’s self and Prada, and Altuzarra and Colleen Allen were doing the Row. It’s all so…derivative, tired, played, uninspired.

The trend this season is a sort of dispassion, there’s no verve in the clothing anymore. I think this trend is caused by a number of different factors but it comes down to a few things for me.  I think the pandemic impacted what sort of clothing is being designed, how we buy clothing, the conversation around clothes. Creativity and personality are less and less understood. We’re trying to manufacture, package, and sell individualism and it’s finally catching up with us. I think the actual consumer has changed and become a bit less discerning, demanding and critical of fashion and creative directors. We stopped needing it and the cultural ecosystem died from neglect. Trend cycles got shorter, more exhausting. If I’m honest, I’m tired. I’m disappointed in us all. How could we let ourselves get here?

I know I’m being melodramatic, of course I am, but that’s what fashion is meant to be. It’s meant to be fantastic, outside reality, beyond the normal. I shouldn’t be so…unfazed. The clothes we see on a runway should grab us, demand our attention, they should insist upon themselves. There are still a few bastions of glamour left, Thom Browne being one of them, making garments that can’t help but inspire wonder. But these designers and their followers are becoming all too few and far between. It’s becoming more and more apparent that the sand is nearly gone from the sieve. We have beautiful clothing with no soul. We’ve lost the plot in many ways, and I’m hoping that sooner or later we all come to our senses and put down this story. It’s time to write a new one.