Picture this: a woman alights from a bus, her hands brimming with fragments of the day ahead of her. Draped over her is a cardigan that will take her through occasional fluctuations in temperature— accompanying her from the commute to the office and back—while perched on her shoulder is a work-appropriate carry-all, bursting at the seams. A closer look unveils clues: heels from the night before, hastily folded swimwear, buried glasses and stacks of scribbled notes—intimate, yet forgotten. In her hurry, however, this woman wears a badge of chaos, disregarding perfection. Amid the bustle of her day lies a prideful acknowledgement of a sense of ‘this and that’. Chameleon-like, she defies definition. As she stands, she is a character from the spring/summer 2024 runways: a dualistic occupant of two lives.
German sociologist and philosopher Georg Simmel underscores dualism as an intrinsic part of the fashion universe in his 1904 article ‘Fashion’. “As fashion spreads, it gradually goes to its doom. The distinctiveness, which in the early stages of a set fashion assures it a certain distribution, is destroyed as the fashion spreads, and as this element wanes, the fashion also is bound to die. By reason of this peculiar play between the tendency towards universal acceptation and the destruction of its very purpose to which this general adoption leads, fashion includes a peculiar attraction of limitation, the attraction of a simultaneous beginning and end, the charm of novelty coupled to that of transitoriness. The attractions of both poles of the phenomena meet in fashion, and show also here that they belong together unconditionally, although, or rather because, they are contradictory in their very nature,” he writes.
Simmel’s work has been largely regarded to be one of the earliest and most incisive observations of the many opposing, and often contradictory, facets of fashion and the role it has played in society. Today, these elements are still pervasive in what we consume: the ever-changing drawing boards of designers where it all begins: the fleeting moods of the seasons, from spring/summer to autumn/winter; the ‘ins’ and ‘outs’ of the models and celebrities to know; and perhaps most pervasive of all, the blurred lines of gender. The real question is, why? And why now?
In an analysis of the year 2023 in The New York Times in mid-December last year, fashion journalist Vanessa Friedman dissected some of its most defining moments. Labelling it a ‘retrograde’ year, her analysis paints a clearer picture of why an industry, so known for its singularity, has since found itself veering towards dichotomy. “It started with all the talk about how we were going back. Back to the office. Back to normalcy after two years of pandemic upheavals. Back to—maybe—actual dressing. Remember?”pens Friedman.
Firstly, one could liken dualism to a chaotic diary, chronicling all that has happened since the pandemic. In just 2023 alone, the industry faced some major shake-ups. The biggest of them all, as seen in previous years, was the reconfiguration of creative directors. The appointment of producer and musician Pharrell Williams at Louis Vuitton Homme sparked a conversation of cross-industry pollination, with many doubting his expertise. Still, the multihyphenate’s inauguration into the maison was a vote for exciting change and the bridging of two different worlds—overshadowing the departures of Jeremy Scott at Moschino, Gabriela Hearst at Chloe and Walter Chiapponi at Tod’s and the onboarding of Sabato de Sarno at Gucci and Peter Do at Helmut Lang.
“The attractions of both poles of the phenomena meet in fashion, and show also here that they belong together unconditionally.”
With a hint of reluctance, fashion slowly began to look outside itself too, from sports to food—as evidenced by Nike’s presence at haute couture fashion week last July and the almost luxury brand-like desirability of Los Angeles supermarket chain, Erewhon. With the looming presence of the Paris Olympics, LVMH clinched a partnership that is said to include the designing of uniforms by Louis Vuitton and Dior as well as medals created by Chaumet. Then came the tug-of-war between maximalism and quiet luxury, a seemingly innocuous conversation that has since sparked larger debates surrounding style politics, socioeconomic positioning and taste. Coming in hot (and on time) was the launch of Phoebe Philo’s eponymous collection, easily one of the most highly anticipated drops of the year, which solidified that when it comes to fashion, sometimes, singularity is key.
The idea of dualism, however, was best presented by the ‘woman of the season’, seen on the spring/summer 2024 runways as an innate antithesis of 2023’s ‘clean girl’. Spearheaded by the likes of Courtney Love, the muse of the season is less-than-perfect, an amalgamation of messy and alluring all at once. This axis is succinctly explained by Simmel: “Fashion always occupies the dividing line between the past and the future, and consequently conveys a stronger feeling of the present, at least while it is at its height, than most other phenomena. What we call the present is usually nothing more than a combination of a fragment of the past with a fragment of the future.”
Encapsulating this was Miuccia Prada’s showing for Miu Miu, titled A Rationale of Beauties. The premise of the line-up was beautifully familiar, inviting viewers into the world of womanhood in all its unruly and mismatched glory. Could one be a hoarder and lover of fashion at the same time? Absolutely. The Miu Miu muse was decked in clashing polo T-shirts, oversized jackets, board shorts, underwear and a lashing of gaudy brocade. The brilliance of the show, however, was in its details. Apart from the delectably unkempt hairstyles, librarian glasses and colourful plasters were hidden nuggets in bowling bags: cautiously guarded yet multi-hued.
Balenciaga presented a similar sensibility, albeit in a different way. Upcycled outwear took centre stage with patchwork trench coats, only slightly hinting at their past lives. On oversized bags (both fastened and unfastened) were busy trinkets and keychains, ready alongside chock-filled passports, to be whisked away at a moment’s notice. And at Khaite, 3.1 Phillip Lim and Altuzarra, a new hairstyle, dubbed the ‘undone bun’, a go-to beauty signifier for all that is laissez-faire—a quintessential homage to the ’90s ‘day to night’ and ‘office to work drinks’ quip.
“After a messy period of confusion about what happens next—maybe the metaverse, with all that it implies about identity, self-expression and clothes; maybe a change in the system so we could right-season and get sales under control; definitely a future dedicated to inclusivity, diversity and cultural sensitivity—fashion is, in many ways, in the same place it was in 2019,” continues Friedman in her analysis.
One could liken this desire for visual chaos to confusion, or perhaps even a rebellion, or better yet, a rebuttal of the one-dimensional woman fashion has long perpetuated. In the years leading back to normalcy, a one-track vision has been replaced by a sense of unabashed dynamism. No, it’s no longer enough to function in singularity. Yes, one can encompass many layers. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time for perfection to give way to the undone.
The March ‘Dualism’ issue of Vogue Singapore is available online and in-store now.
