LauraHartig

Cher Horowitz’s computerised catalogue wardrobe featured in the 1995 film Clueless has always been an item of great envy for me. Her ability to style outfits together on a screen and see how they look on a computerised mannequin of herself, only to be told by a satirical beep of the computer that the look is actually ‘mismatched’, couldn’t sound dreamier. Imagine being able to skip the hassle of emptying half your wardrobe onto your bedroom floor, which always inevitably results in you leaving the house in the same jeans and jumper combination that you wear every single day. For a film made nearly 30 years ago, Cher’s concept of a digitalised wardrobe is still, to my mind, an unknown experience, but with the ever-growing influence of the metaverse, comes the rise of digital dressing rooms. 

A digital/virtual dressing room is the computerised virtual equivalent of your classic changing room experience, except leave the harsh lighting, ghastly hot temperatures, and constant fear of being walked in on by another customer, at the store. This progression in retail experience allows customers to ‘try on’ clothes in the comfort of their own home, with the help of augmented reality and artificial intelligence. And it’s clear to see that consumers within a post-pandemic market are receptive to the virtual experience, with Fortune Business Insights predicting that the virtual fitting room market is set to reach 12.97 billion USD by 2028.  

Virtual reality designers, Reactive Reality, released the aptly named, PICTOFiT, back in 2021, describing themselves as the ‘perfect try-on solution for fashion brands and retailers’. With varying levels of personalization within the app, users can choose to either create an avatar of themselves by uploading photos, or place their measurements on an anonymous avatar, in a computerised imitation of themselves. The app also allows users to take their outfits beyond the dressing room, placing their avatar in various virtual environments; from the office, to the countryside, or even a night out. With augmented reality becoming even more prominent within the e-commerce market it seems that my dream of having a Cher inspired digital wardrobe is not as farfetched as once thought. And PICTOFiT’s statistics seem to suggest that this is a dream I share with consumers, as they record an average 500% increase in sales revenue from brands utilising their digital dressing technology, and a 30% decrease in product return rate from first-time shoppers. 

With premium brands like Gucci, Hugo Boss and Burberry, allowing customers to try on their garments virtually, it seems that the AI experience is becoming the expected norm in delivering top customer service. Beyond the dressing rooms, artificial intelligence is becoming a key marketing tool in the strategies of the luxury fashion houses. Back in 2021, Gucci launched a virtual Gucci Garden on the digital platform Roblox, in celebration of their 100^th Anniversary, allowing players to complete the gaming experience decked out in a full Gucci look. Their focus in ensuring their anniversary celebrations were accessible to the virtual realm signifies a turning point for the brand, as we witness the commodification of the digital design market.  

As luxury fashion houses continue to prioritise customer access to the digital experience, the future of fashion technology seems firmly sited within the metaverse. The fashion start-up, DRESSX, is a digital only fashion platform carrying virtual pieces from a huge number of brands, including collaborations with adidas, Bershka and Coco Cola. Once a digital item has been purchased, customers submit a photo of themselves to DRESSX, and within 24 hours, they should receive an image of themselves wearing their chosen garment created by augmented reality. This image is then in the users hands to submit or upload to social media as many times as they want. The garments themselves are loud, flamboyant and dominate space on my screen, and with no need to acknowledge practicality, the digital world offers unlimited creative freedom and license to ignore the physics of fabric design. It can’t help but feel a little paining that the beauty of some of these designs will never be worn in the real world, but as the fashion industry continues to face constant backlash over their contribution to the climate crisis, DRESSX offers a solution to mass production and consumption. 

Whilst yes, these virtual experiences are mainly tailored to the consumer retail market, rather than digitalisation of personal wardrobes at home, these developments do open the potential for bringing AI inside our homes. German start-up, Styleriser, assists customers with their purchases by recommending the best colours or tones to suit their skin. By uploading a photo of themselves to the software, customers are helped in their fashion decisions by AI image consultants. This tool has proven to be successful in the retail market as Styleriser CEO Mark Hunsmann, says shoppers have a new confidence in shopping, resulting in an 80% increase in purchasing eagerness. An AI image consultant is not too dissimilar to Cher’s computerised assistant warning her of an incompatible look. So, maybe, my dream of having a Clueless esc wardrobe in 2023 is not so far out of reach…    

Even as a child, I recall being opinionated in what I wore. I think I knew what items of clothing I didn’t want to wear, rather than what I did, and I made this blatantly clear to my parents. I can remember one specific outfit I detested so vividly due to the fuss I made at being forced to wear it. Picture a swimming costume, but with sleeves and shorts attached, essentially a child’s-size wetsuit, but with a zip that went from your bellybutton right up to your neck. Fair enough the Mini Boden offender came in various patterns of polka dots or stripes, and all my mum was really trying to do was protect my ghostly pale ginger skin from the sun, but I thought this outfit was the epitome of uncool. And I made sure everyone knew that I just wanted to wear a bikini like all the other normal kids in the pool.  

I can remember my mum scouring eBay in search of second-hand monsoon skirts. She’d enter bidding wars in the hopes of winning those floaty linen skirts, the type that were covered in little circular mirrors and embellished with tiny little beads. I’d spend hours and hours just twirling about in them, watching them fan out around me, as the beads jangled around. Once I grew out of them, she’d pop them back on eBay to be loved by another little girl. I wonder if witnessing her determination in bagging a bargain is where my love of sourcing second-hand items stems from.  

I’d like to say that my childhood style bears no resemblence to my current style as there have been some pretty questionable outfit choices over the years, (picture pink leggings and denim shorts, or the infamous Superdry jacket with the never-ending zips), but I know there’s some items that still bring me comfort. Knit jumpers and cardigans have always been something I find comfortable and easy, and as I look back at baby photos of myself, there’s rarely a shot of myself without one. But truly my childhood style was just a projection of my mum’s style as she chose how to dress me each day; and like me, she is also never seen without a jumper. 

What seems most apparent to me is that my choice of clothes as a child just represented an inherent desire to be grown up. Thinking that each new item in my wardrobe represented the next stage in my life. Thinking the first pair of heels I owned, meant I had entered womanhood. Feeling disappointed that the first time I left the house with a handbag, wasn’t the mark of my new maturity, but actually just a very practical development in life. 

normally I see them as a bit of a fad, but for some reason I feel the need for them this year

1. get off my phone. don’t unplug it when I first wake up.
2. look after my body
3. don’t be scared
4. save. save. save. $$$$$
5. read

Alessandra Michele’s past seven years at the helm of Gucci’s creative direction were both radical and inspiring. After being promoted from head of accessories to creative director at Gucci in 2015, Michele has helped promote the luxury Italian fashion house to the forefront of the creative industry, certainly reinstating much of the glamour and theatricality the fashion world was missing. 

Since 2017, Gucci has presented both men’s and women’s collections together. The universal collections produced by Gucci should be commended both for its efforts at inclusivity and the reduction of fabric waste. Michele’s creative direction towards collections governed by androgyny reflects the contemporary values of the evolving twenty-first century fashion industry. In 2017, Harry Styles was named as an ambassador for the brand, and in 2022, they released their first product collaboration. Styles is a natural fit for Michele’s brand vision: he’s eccentric and experimental in style, he doesn’t conform to gender fashion norms, and he has a massive base of adoring fans. 

The collection entitled ‘HA HA HA’ symbolises, as Gucci names it, ‘Liberated Vanity’. Traditional Breton striped t-shirts are seen in garish black and yellow, whilst classical British tailored pieces are presented in various denims and checked fabrics; outfits not too dissimilar to that worn by Ryan Evans in the High School Musical trilogies. Yet, Michele’s pride in the heritage of Italian luxury brand remains fundamental, taking classic Gucci silhouettes like the Jackie bag, and covering it in silver hardware, reimagining it in a 21^st century landscape.  

One of Michele’s most memorable collections must be The Gucci Twinsburg Fashion Show presented at Milan Fashion Week for the bran’s SS23 show. Featuring 68 pairs of identical twins, Michele honoured his own upbringing, as his childhood was surrounded by his mother and her identical twin: Michele’s aunt. This collection challenged the fashion industries desire for a themed collection through the electiveness of his designs. Only the pairs of twins walking down the black and white framed runway, looked alike. 

Never one to shy away from the exciting, Alessandro Michele’s November 2021, Love Parade collection, presented along Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles, was anything but boring. The apt location of the runway speaks to the clothes walking it, as Michele’s vision is one of Old Hollywood Glamour contrasted with oversized androgynous tailoring loved by his contemporaries. Striking platform heels paired with geometric pattern tights walk over the names of Hollywood’s icons, their names set in the infamous pink stars. Whilst the hourglass silhouette remains prominent throughout all looks, whether constructed through a satin fishtail gown adorned with latex gloves and a cream feather bower.

Alessandro Michele’s legacy at Gucci is unquestionable, as his creative direction helped propel the Italian Luxury brand into the 21^st century. His maximalist aesthetic to fashion, encompassed all genres, time periods, and referenced every fabric known to man. His departure from Gucci (a brand he dedicated the past 20 years of his life to), marks a new chapter for the label, and I am excited to see which direction the brand is taken next.  

As we move into Autumn, fashion week is upon us, meaning we welcome a new season in the fashion calendar. But what does that really mean to us? On a practical level, the weather shifts and we look for our warmer layers and softer textures to hide us from the cold. But the start of the new fashion season also presents the opportunity for a wardrobe overhaul, as the industry conducts a bi-annual rebirth. Shops have ridded themselves of colour in their end of summer sales, and now, their racks are lined with leathers, wools, and boots. And whilst no one denies the functionality of seasonal dressing, what needs to be understood is whether the seasonal shifts with the fashion industry perpetuates the fast fashion cycle.

Once this season’s collections have been walked down the runways, it is up to the global fashion heads at large to decide this season’s ‘look’; an editorial collection of our seasonal wardrobe aspirations. Yet, the focus on this season’s ‘look’, makes us want to buy something entirely new. It doesn’t instil in us the idea to return to our current collections, but instead, run into the welcoming arms of shop assistants globally. The emphasis on idealistic style places our worth in that fashion season on a piece of clothing we do not own. It builds the idea of an aspirational wardrobe. And whilst I cannot deny that it is clever marketing and enables the fashion industry to repeatedly turn over high profits season after season, it drives the consumption of fast fashion.

This raises the question of whether seasonal trends can ever be maintained sustainably. Trends seem to symbolise everything wrong with the fashion industry, as they perpetuate a need for more and for new. And yet, we repeatedly embrace them season upon season. Interestingly if we look to understand the definition of trend it reads, ‘a fashion’. So why, when I think of the word, do I immediately come up with images of something cool and new?

The word ‘fashion’ does not limit to a particular style, or even place any positive emotion upon the word. It simply reads neutrally as ‘a fashion’. And yet it’s been instilled within us that we need to keep up with the latest trends, to be recognised as ‘in with the crowd’. And whilst the emotional value of trends seems to place emphasis on the need for us to fit in, the industry values trends as an opportunity to increase global product consumerism.

If we investigate more sustainable options for building seasonable wardrobes, talk of the ‘capsule’ wardrobe (a sustainable approach to curating one’s wardrobe, by comprising a small collection of the most versatile pieces), has been around since the 2010s yet the conversation seems to have died out. We’ve been built as consumers to want, need, and buy more; so, this approach of appreciating the pieces we already own goes against every bone in our bodies. But perhaps if this seems too drastic the approach to trends could be more subtle.

The more sustainable option is changing where you source your seasonable pieces. Whether that be buying vintage or second-hand or buying a new piece of clothing made from sustainable or reworked fabric, it all acts as a step against fast fashion.

But what seems more significant is that trends seem to return to the fashion market cyclically, and it seems to be getting easier to predict. Two types of trends seem to emerge: 1. The fashion evolution and 2. The twenty-year cycle. An example of trend one can be seen through denim; one season we embrace skinny jeans, the next it was the straight leg, and the following wide leg. Trends return with a natural progression into what we can expect next, we physically see the development. Whilst trend two sees a more drastic change of style become popular, it is not necessarily one we have never seen before. As we look at the collections of the year 2000 of micro skirts, silk camis and Afghan coats, that are being obsessed over currently, it demonstrates that trends repeatedly appear and thus, the practice of wearing and discarding is ultimately harmful to both the environment and your wardrobe budget.

And as Miranda Priestly said, ‘cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of eight different designers. Then it filtered down through the department stores, and then trickled on down into some tragic casual corner’, so achieving trend looks will always be attainable somehow…

There is something to be said about being in a charity shop and stumbling across a treasure chest full of beautiful remnants of the 90’s – a collection of clothes, so personal and identifiable, you can just tell that they used to co-exist together in one singular wardrobe. I don’t know why, but I find it even more exciting than buying brand new clothes these days. Something about it feels so much more personal and intimate, and (whilst the process isn’t at all luxurious) you feel rewarded for trawling through the racks of donated items. 

The excitement that I feel when stumbling across these items leads me to question why they were ever passed on in the first place. Yet, it must be said that the cathartic act of replacing and redoing our wardrobes is an entirely emotional affair. The physical action of stripping our wardrobe clean before carefully contemplating which items are worthy of a coat hanger to match a newly curated version of ourselves, seems to scratch a very particular part of our brains. 

The cleansing process doesn’t just get rid of old clothes, but also removes any remnants of the old us which we may no longer identify with anymore. The outfits we wear become symbols of who we are within that time, and when we feel like they no longer represent us anymore, comes the time when we must pass them on. This act of donating to a charity shop or selling them on therefore gives clothes an immediate rebirth; passing on items to a stranger enables them to become a beloved part of someone else’s outfit. 

But with this, you pass on more than just a piece of material.  

I don’t mean to sound superficial, but I notice what people wear more than anything. In fact, I tie a memory of a specific time to the outfits everyone sported on that day or night.

‘Oh yes, that night out in freshers… the one where you were wearing those cowboy boots? Yes, now I remember exactly.’ 

Clothes mark key life moments. There’s a reason brides feel immense pressure when choosing their dress for the big day; there’s a reason our parents keep our first shoes in a box in the attic somewhere. But that choice to pass on an item symbolises a personal choice that we have made to move on from the memories which that particular item may hold, whether they’re good or they’re bad. 

However, I would argue that it is the mundane pieces within our wardrobe that we choose to wear most frequently which are the ones which hold more value. The everyday. The clothes we reach for when we need comfort. This is why I find comfort in choosing and paying for an item second-hand, as I know it was something that someone else once chose for themselves too, once upon a time. From an anthropological perspective, it highlights the knowledge that we’re not all that different. Even though these clothes may not serve any use to their previous owner anymore, they now look at ease within my wardrobe, comfortably carrying the marks of their past life. The life that those clothes had becomes someone else’s. 

But this trend of giving clothes a second life simply works because trends return cyclically. In 2014, did anyone ever think we would be replacing our beloved Joni jeans, with our dads jeans from the 90s and lying to ourselves that they fit, by tying a shoelace around our waists? No… but we found ourselves scouring for clothes that don’t fit as society insists they should. An ever-growing positive trend has emerged of ignoring the assigned sizes of clothes. It defies the toxic mindset, that had us buying smaller clothes as inspiration for losing weight. Not needing the label to read ‘our size’ for us to purchase them, and instead making the clothes fit for us, and not the other way around. This only helps more when shopping second hand, as a) you cannot guarantee your size being available and b) a size 10 in 2022, is not the same as a size 10 in 1999. But once again, this process is anything but emotionless, as we continue to listen to what makes us and our bodies feel comfortable. 

Bristol as a city is comfortable in embracing sustainability, and this is evidenced through its students wardrobes. They shop eclectically, environmentally consciously and resourcefully. This process of rebirthing clothes from one wardrobe to another, looks to prevent the growth of mass fabric pollution that resides in landfills globally. And embracing second hand stores gives students the perfect opportunity to curate their own sense of style for less. 

And yet aside from all this, there’s an undeniable beauty in finding a collection of clothes that clearly belonged to another owner. This beauty I refer to is that of knowing the piece once belonged to one wardrobe: carrying their memories for a fragment of their life. Someone’s old treasures looking to be welcomed into a new wardrobe. What was once theirs becomes ours.