We love to say fashion is art, culture, self-expression. But what happens when that self-expression comes wrapped in silks spun from someone else’s suffering? When the campaigns we swoon over borrow their “inspiration” from a history written by the powerful, while the powerless remain footnotes? It is easy to romanticise a palace dipped in vanity without remembering who built it, or to praise a “heritage” fabric without asking who paid the price for it to exist. That is the thing about beauty. It can be a shield. And in too much of fashion today, beauty has become the perfect excuse to look away. Fashion is literally a political statement of detachment.
Fashion has sadly become a political statement of detachment.
Fashion loves to call itself art, culture, and self-expression. Yet...
