By Fabrizio Modina
In the current narrative of fashion brands — a term now as overused as “heritage” — there exists only one image, a one-way vision that portrays both the fashion of the past and, consequently, that of the present as a closed system, intended for a noble or upper-bourgeois clientele with unlimited spending power.
The underlying message is: either you’re rich, or you’re out.
And indeed, this is the image of fashion that the major brands have instilled over the last fifteen years. So much so that, lately, newspaper headlines no longer speak of a “fashion crisis” but of a “luxury crisis,” as if the two concepts were synonymous. But they are not — not at all.
Modern Haute Couture was born as the legitimate heir of that highest form of tailoring which dressed queens, empresses, countesses, and entrepreneurs — an artistic expression of that “savoir-faire” capable of creating dream garments: yes, extremely expensive, but the result of countless hours of sewing and embroidery, crafted from precious and carefully sourced fabrics, conceived by pattern masters who knew every millimetre of their clients’ bodies and had no other mission than to make them more beautiful and admired.
But here ends the “narrative” that Dior, Balenciaga, Chanel and other pillars of fashion mythology tell about themselves today — omitting one rather significant detail: the business of the great maisons was not solely based on the sale of made-to-measure garments, but also on that of patterns.
Indeed, the geniuses who invented the New Look, the trapeze dress, the A-line, the balloon skirt, and so on, distributed (rightly, for a fee) the patterns of their most original creations, thereby democratizing their work — allowing even the local seamstress to offer her clients a dress inspired by the latest trends from Paris.
Certainly, less refined fabrics were used and the finishing was more modest, but the shapes and styles faithfully reproduced those seen in the glossiest magazines.
Fashion was a dream that could be scaled according to one’s income.
When Yves Saint-Laurent opened the first prêt-à-porter boutique in 1966, the elite were scandalized: the “common people” could now afford a piece by the star couturier.
Saint-Laurent understood that the world was changing and was the first to ride the wave of a rapidly expanding market.
His lesson in the democratization of fashion produced brilliant results between the late 1980s and early 2000s, when many of the new-wave brands diversified their production, adding to their main collection — higher in creative and qualitative value — the so-called “second lines.”
These, designed for more modest budgets, brought brand identity within the reach of younger audiences, combining design and innovation with accessible prices and wide distribution.
Those were the years of Versus (Gianni Versace), Emporio Armani, D&G, Junior Gaultier and many other “sister labels”: Paris and Milan dressed everyone, with major economic returns — and fast fashion had not yet been born, nor, crucially, was there any perceived need for it.
Of that world and that era, nothing remains.
With fashion now split into two major blocs that compete by continually raising prices at the expense of design and quality, we have reached today: suspended in the cosmic void of a market where the same T-shirt can cost €400 or €4 — the only difference being the label.
The Shein phenomenon (among others) is not a random meteorite but the shockwave of a need that is not only economic but also cultural: the need for accessibility, for a low-cost copy that is often qualitatively comparable to its high-priced counterpart.
The great maisons have chosen to exclude rather than include — until they have even been abandoned by their most loyal and affluent clients.
The damage caused by these two blocs — through exponential price increases — has led to a perception of fashion as something for the few, an exclusive ritual rather than a shared art form.
The bubble has inflated beyond measure, sustained mainly by the Asian market, long exploited for its purchasing power, until — puff! — it burst.
This collapse was aided, finally, by the consumer’s growing awareness of products and their true value.
Many industry analysts now, thankfully, see creativity and price moderation as the true engines for fashion’s recovery — a sector that, more than ever, must rebuild its identity, balancing between the unjustifiable economic excesses of the big players and the unethical drift of fast fashion.
A round of applause to Andrea Guerra, CEO of Prada, who candidly admitted: “Perhaps we’ve raised our prices too much.”