A’ was for ‘Apple’ when I was a child. Thirty years later, my daughter’s learn- to-read book taught her that ‘A’ is for ‘Activism’. Words tell usso much abouthow the world is changing and although activism is not new, it is occupying new spaces – from the classroom to the boardroom, coffee shops as well as catwalks. And 2019 is the year that activism went truly mainstream.
This is both a symptom and cause of our changing world. ‘Our very survival,’ Martin Luther King cautioned 60 years ago, ‘depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant and to face the challenge of change.’ People are waking up, and you can track our new paths in hashtags – whether the #ClimateStrike movement, #BlackLivesMatter, #MeToo, #NotInMyName or #PeoplesVote.
Where does fashion fit into this unprecedented reality? The truth is, uneasily. All too often, brands have appeared to jump on the bandwagon of the grass-roots movements that have disrupted established norms. It’s hard not to be cynical about stories asking ‘is motherhood the ultimate accessory’ in response to breastfeeding on the catwalks. Or of the idea that, as The New York Times put it, ‘of all the trends that emerged from fashion month… the one that trumped all others was neither a skirt length nor a colour nor a borrowed reference… sustainability was the hottest look of the day.’ Sustainability is often described as the existential challenge facing fashion. And, some would argue, as long as designers are cleaning up, it doesn’t matter whether they are motivated by commercial pressure or by genuine concern for the climate.
'My takeaway from this year’s bumper Copenhagen Summit was the telling off delegates received from veteran activist-designer Katharine Hamnett. ‘We should all be ashamed of our carbon footprint,’ she chastised.'
It’s certainly true the time for simply reducing waste is past. It’s now about the circular economy – using fibres that are already recycled, vintage or upcycled, and then ensuring they can be used again. And in France they’ve gone further: deciding to ban destroying materials.
But the cracks of a competitive approach are already showing. Large fashion houses vie for sustainability props while continuing to decamp en masse around the globe for shows and conferences. My takeaway from this year’s bumper Copenhagen Summit was the telling off delegates received from veteran activist-designer Katharine Hamnett. ‘We should all be ashamed of our carbon footprint,’ she chastised.
Nowhere does intention matter more than in the vexed relationship between fashion and race. On the one hand, some editors, designers and models who represent previously excluded groups are thriving. Edward Enninful has not only made history as the first black editor-in-chief of British Vogue, but has used his prominence to promote pro-immigrant and anti-racism messages, while putting the focus on the activist models whose rise tells a story about the fashion world changing. Adut Akech, for example, who has reclaimed the narrative on being a refugee, Adwoa Aboah who has shown her commitment to mental health activism, and many more. In the US, Elaine Welteroth made Teen Vogue an unlikely beacon of progressive nuance with articles on cultural appropriation, gaslighting and the genocidal history of Thanksgiving, at a time when adult publications struggled to do so. Rihanna’s Fenty fashion and beauty lines have shown what representation looks like when it is not just a fad.
It makes it harder than ever to reconcile just how much still goes wrong. Pyer Moss designer Kerby Jean-Raymond wrote recently how he felt compelled to boycott the Business Of Fashion 500 after being excluded from its editorial content and then expected to enjoy a black gospel choir at a gala. Others joined in. ‘When a black gospel choir is used out of context as a backdrop for a mostly white audience in Paris, all in the name of inclusion in fashion,’ wrote Welteroth.
'Ultimately, though, what gives me hope is that this is not about brands, pacts, summits or ad campaigns. It’s about the fact that consumers are becoming the activists; calling out racism, cultural appropriation, unsustainability and exploitation.'
Too often I also find myself asking why. Why do the executive ranks at most major fashion brands remain predominantly white? Why, in 2019, do we still see global brands selling merchandise that resembles blackface, as well as other racial stereotypes? Why is blackness still treated as a trend, most recently on the cover of Elle Germany – whose November issue declared ‘black is back again!’ – while inside the black model Janaye Furman was introduced with a picture of a different model, Naomi Chin Wing. When. Will. They. Learn?
Perhaps when black people are genuinely included in their companies. When we are hired in representative numbers and find ourselves respected, able to speak up, surrounded by others with different backgrounds, and – crucially – in positions of power. Sometimes it feels as if things slip too easily. After an intense focus on #MeToo,for example – with welcome developments, such as legacy magazine publishers insisting models are 18, and given a duty of care – models are coming forward to say these gains have already been forgotten.
Ultimately, though, what gives me hope is that this is not about brands, pacts, summits or ad campaigns. It’s about the fact that consumers are becoming the activists; calling out racism, cultural appropriation, unsustainability and exploitation. The fashion world is in the business of moving on from seasonal trends, but it can never move away from its consumers. And that is real change.
READ MORE: The Activists Championing Change: Meet The Fashion World's Disrupters Who Are Changing The Game