Pay Me What You Owe Me: Power and Control within Modelling Agencies.

Imagine being 23, believing you have finally realised your dream of becoming a model. You think you will earn money and help your family move out of one of the world’s largest refugee camps. You practise your runway walk in heels, preparing for the fashion weeks that await you. Now, picture this: your dream has turned from sweet to sour. You are now on a plane back home after being a model for only six months. Here’s the kicker: not only have your dreams been shattered, but you also owe your agency €3,000. This was the reality of Achol Malual Jau. Jau was the subject of a Sunday Times investigation revealing how some agencies recruit new talent directly from the Kakuma refugee camp. It was revealed that a Nigerian businesswoman named Joan Okorodudu, also known as “Mama” or “Auntie Joan”, scouted potential models at the refugee camp, then signed them to her agency. Okorodudu would later advertise these models to larger agencies such as Select Model Management.

Achol is not an isolated case. Other models have also been recruited from Kakuma refugee camp in northwestern Kenya. The pathway for them to start a modelling career in Europe is relatively straightforward. The potential models undergo initial recruitment, then travel to Nairobi to obtain passports and visas. This is followed by them receiving their accommodations and a weekly allowance of €70 to €100 to cover their expenses. However, models who fail to secure enough work or are deemed unsuitable due to industry pressures or malnourishment return to their homes at the camp. In Jau’s case, Select Model Management claimed that her client feedback was “less than favourable”. CEO Matteo Puglisi stated, “We lost thousands of euros on her. We have never asked for reimbursement. I am truly sorry she did not succeed. It was not for the want of trying on our behalf.” He also described her debt statement as a “fiscal obligation” and confirmed no legal action would be taken. Jau herself stated, “I worked hard but came back with no money. A lot of people think I have money because I went to Europe. I say I have nothing.” This reflects the financial and emotional precarity of international recruitment models.

Besides human trafficking legislation, there are currently no specific laws protecting models recruited from refugee camps or similar vulnerable environments. This creates a significant regulatory gap around informed consent, financial transparency, and safeguarding. Stronger protections could include mandatory pre-contract education, clearer disclosure of debt structures, and limits on relocation until consistent earning potential is established. Jau’s case highlights how structural vulnerability can be embedded from the very start of a modelling career, particularly where bargaining power is minimal. However, agency control is not limited to new faces. It also appears in disputes involving established models.

In 2018, Adwoa Aboah sued her former agency, The Lions Model Management (LMM), for approximately $190,000 in unpaid wages and damages. She claimed that between 2015 and 2017 she earned around $670,000 dollars but received only half. She alleged that unpaid earnings were withheld as “ransom” after she left the agency. She later signed with DNA Model Management, stating, “fashion models are not indentured servants.” The case followed earlier litigation in 2017 when The Lions Model Management sued DNA Model Management co-founder David Bonnouvrier, CLM founder Camilla Lowther, and Aboah’s mother, alleging they conspired to remove her from her contract early. LMM claimed that Aboah’s mother and Lowther pressured the agency, including threats to damage its business. They also highlighted Aboah’s success during her contract, which included a Vogue cover and campaigns for Fendi and Calvin Klein. DNA denied wrongdoing, arguing that Aboah left after her contract ended due to dissatisfaction and that agencies are permitted to compete fairly. They also argued there was no personal liability for Bonnouvrier as his actions were within his corporate role. They further noted that under New York law, certain contracts operate on an “at will” basis unless otherwise specified. Lions ultimately dropped its lawsuit. Aboah later pursued her unpaid wages claim. There has been no major public update on the outcome.

This case was significant because it marked a rare instance of a model challenging an agency legally. However, such action remains uncommon due to fears of blacklisting and the financial burden of litigation. It also highlights how outcomes are shaped not only by legal rights but by economic and social capital. More recently, the Fashion Workers Act came into effect in New York on June 19, 2025. Championed by the Model Alliance, it closes legal loopholes that previously limited agency accountability. It introduces payment deadlines, transparent contracts, fee disclosure, protections against harassment, safeguards against unauthorised use of likeness or AI-generated imagery, and requires agency registration to improve oversight.

Home Is Where the Heartless Is: Precarious Living, and Body Surveillance Within Modelling Agencies.

Physiological needs are listed as the first tier of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. This includes basic necessities such as food, water, and shelter. These are fundamental to human survival and must be met before higher-level needs such as safety, love, and self-esteem can be meaningfully pursued. Modelling agencies should treat these as non-negotiable basics for anyone entering the industry, right?  Wrong, this is not always reflected in their practices. Many models face expensive and crowded living conditions, alongside environments that can encourage disordered eating and extreme body standards.

A model apartment is accommodation owned or rented by a modelling agency. The agency will often initially cover rent, but once a model starts booking work, these costs are deducted from their earnings. New faces or models placed abroad at short notice often rely on these apartments as they are the only immediate housing option. They are also easier to access due to visa processes, making agency-backed accommodation the most practical option at the start of an international placement. However, this system quickly becomes complicated. Many models arrive already in debt to their agencies, meaning housing costs immediately deepen financial pressure. Even established models can struggle to cover rent due to the freelance nature of the industry, where work is unpredictable, and income is inconsistent. As Rue (@Ruebarbx) explains on TikTok:

“Some of these girls will stay in a country for six months, eight months, or even a year. And it can be really hard in the first few months to just go and get accommodation, especially if you haven’t actually started seeing any of the money you’re earning.

One of the biggest negatives about model apartments is that work is never guaranteed in the modelling industry because you’re freelance. So you could essentially get into months of debt staying in these places and then never earn enough money to pay your agents back.”

Therefore, housing shifts from being a form of stability to a mechanism of financial pressure. Rather than functioning as a safe space, model apartments can become sites of control, particularly where agencies benefit from inflated occupancy costs. In a Vogue video titled “10 Models Explain the Dangerous Power Dynamics in the Modelling Industry”, 19-year-old Selena Forrest stated: “Agencies don’t have their models’ best interests at heart, because if they did, they probably wouldn’t make as much money.” She described living in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment shared with seven other models, each paying $1,200 per month. She noted: “$1,200 times seven, that’s a pretty good chunk of change. I mean, we could afford another bedroom in there.” This totals approximately $8,400 per month, enough for significantly larger accommodations in cities such as New York, London, or Milan. Another account given by Rue further highlighted the overcrowded living conditions in these kinds of apartments, sometimes involving up to twenty models in one apartment with limited privacy. In her video, Rue also explained an instance where she decided to leave model housing, entirely opting for an Airbnb. She said, “You may not think this looks that bad… It’s like 900 to share a bed with someone, and the place was just. It wasn’t great.” This raises a broader structural concern about whether housing arrangements in modelling operate as part of a wider system of financial dependency. It also raises legal questions around transparency of deductions, contractual fairness, and the extent of agency responsibility for basic living standards. 

Alongside housing, body surveillance represents another major pressure within the industry. “We’re looking for a girl who’s lanky and skinny because that’s really what the designers want.” This statement was made by the owner of Premier Modelling Agency, Carol White, in a 60 Minutes Australia video, which investigated the pressures placed on young models. Despite legislation in some countries, industry expectations continue to prioritise extreme thinness. Former model Victoire Maçon Dauxerre has stated: “The hard truth is you need to almost disappear to appear at Fashion Week.” Israel was the first country to regulate underweight models. In 2013, the Model Law prohibited models with a BMI under 18.5 from runway shows and advertising. France followed in 2017, requiring medical certification confirming models are healthy enough to work. Doctors assess health using weight, age, and body shape rather than BMI alone. Agencies can face fines of up to €75,000 and six months of imprisonment for non-compliance. Digitally altered images that change body shape must also be labelled as “retouched photographs”. French law also criminalises the promotion of extreme thinness, including content that encourages anorexia. During the same period, an estimated 30,000 to 40,000 people in France were affected by anorexia, with around 90% being women, many of them adolescents. These laws represent an important step in linking industry standards with public health concerns, particularly around eating disorders.

However, the pressure to be extremely thin remains deeply embedded within some modelling agencies. Edan Mackney, who was 15 years old during her modelling career, was told she needed to lose inches from her legs due to muscle definition. She later stated: “I would go to bed all the time hungry, but I was so scared of eating because I thought that that’s what was making me not get that inch off my hips.” This reflects a wider pattern where weight loss becomes associated with professional success, creating harmful effects on mental health and self-esteem. This constant reminder of being told to lose weight, combined with efforts to maintain an increasingly unhealthy level of thinness, operates as a form of psychological pressure that can severely affect self-esteem and mental health. This is echoed in Caroline Trentini’s statement in Vogue’s “The Models” docuseries, where she recalls, “I went to meet with the agency and they measured me, and they told me that I needed to lose, I think it was like two inches off my hips and maybe two off my waist. I was a perfectionist. So I associated doing a good job with modelling with losing weight.” Similar pressures are reflected in Victoire Maçon Dauxerre’s experience, where she explains that agents never directly told her to lose weight. Instead, her hip measurements were altered on her comp card and recorded as 87cm instead of her actual 92cm. She was told she needed to be under 90cm, effectively requiring her to lose two clothing sizes within two months. In order to do this, Dauxerre further stated: “That’s why I actually stopped eating and ate three apples a day.” This form of measurement manipulation and implicit pressure contributes to a culture where weight loss becomes equated with professional success. Her heartbreaking experience, along with the experiences of the other models mentioned, further showcases how informal pressures operate alongside formal regulation.    

Behind the glamour of the runway and the eye-catching appeal of fashion editorials lies a complex system of labour, power, and control that is often overlooked. While modelling is frequently presented as a pathway to success and opportunity, I hope my article has highlighted the structural vulnerabilities that exist beneath that narrative. From financial precarity and exploitative housing arrangements to the regulation of bodies and health, the cases discussed demonstrate how easily power can become concentrated within modelling agencies, often at the expense of those they represent. Although recent legal developments, such as the Fashion Workers Act in New York, signal progress towards greater accountability, significant gaps in protection remain. Ultimately, these examples raise deeper issues of responsibility within the fashion industry and who is held accountable when the pursuit of beauty and profit comes at a human cost. The question that still lingers for me is this: Would you ever sign away your own agency to an agency, and at what cost?

References:

1) Vitkute, Demi.  “Modelling Agencies Recruit Refugees From One of the World’s Largest Camps.” The Urban Watch, October 16, 2013. https://theurbanwatch.com/fashion/modeling-agencies-recruit-refugees/

2) Matera, Avery. “Adwoa Aboah Sues Modeling Agency Claiming She Wasn’t Paid Nearly $190,000.” Teen Vogue, March 23, 2018. https://www.teenvogue.com/story/adwoa-aboah-sues-modeling-agency/

3) Tate, Crystal. “Adwoa Aboah Is Suing Former Management Company for Unpaid Wages.” Essence October 24, 2020. https://www.essence.com/fashion/adwoa-aboah-suing-former-management-company/

4)    Hays, Kali. “Adwoa Aboah Opens Up About Her ‘Heart in Legal Fight’ With Former Management.” September 15, 2017. https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/adwoa-aboah-heart-legal-fight-202203293.html

5)    Hays, Kali. “DNA Says Models Aren’t ‘Indentured Servants’ in Row Over Adwoa Aboah.” Yahoo Life, October 6, 2017. https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/dna-says-models-aren-t-215723779.html

6) Rue. @Ruebarbx on Tiktok. “Model Apartment Experience.” TikTok, January 7, 2024. https://www.tiktok.com/@ruebarbx/video/7386625515865656608

7)    BBC News. “France Bans Extremely Thin Models.” BBC News, May 6, 2017. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-3982103 

8)    France 24. “France Cracks Down on Anorexia.” France 24, April 16, 2008. https://www.france24.com/en/20080416-france-cracks-down-anorexia-france-health

9)    60 Minutes Australia. “Young Models Say Unapologetic Industry Nearly Killed Them.” YouTube, October 18, 2019. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jt2Jaa82Yog

10) Vogue. “10 Models Explain the Dangerous Power Dynamics in the Modeling Industry.” YouTube, October 3, 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7e9C-VX6GfE

11) Vogue. “9 Models on the Pressure to Lose Weight and Body Image | The Models.” YouTube, April 23, 2019. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKd38G338Qw

Author: Déjà Danielle

Hailing from Nassau, Bahamas, Déjà Danielle is a fashion enthusiast interested in the intersection of fashion, culture, and law. She holds a BA (Hons) from York University’s Glendon College, an MA from Parsons School of Design Paris, and will begin legal studies at St George’s, University of London. Her areas of interest include intellectual property, brand protection and model rights within the fashion industry. In her free time, she enjoys photography, reading, travel, languages, and the arts.

Instagram: @deja.danielle

The post From Dreams to Nightmares: Exploring Exploitation within Modelling Agencies. appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

On the Croisette, every sequin is a statement — but it is the law, quietly backstage, that decides who steps forward and who steps aside.

Nobody tells you, the first time you go to Cannes, that glamour is a regulated industry.

You find out the way most people find out things in France — not through an announcement, but through an encounter with a very polite, very firm official who informs you that your bag is too large, your dress is too sheer, or your phone is pointed in the wrong direction. Welcome to the Festival. Please enjoy the cinema. And kindly put that away.

The red carpet at the Festival de Cannes is not simply a strip of crimson fabric laid down for photographs. It is, in the truest legal sense, a controlled zone, and France, a country that has never once been shy about its love of both haute couture and highly codified civil law, makes absolutely certain that everyone who walks it understands the terms. Think of it as the Napoleonic Code in a tuxedo. Or, for those who prefer their analogies with a splash of Riviera brine: the EU in evening wear.

The Red Carpet as Legal Instrument

The festival’s dress code is not a suggestion whispered by a harried PR assistant somewhere in the lobby of the Martinez. It is an enforced standard, and the prohibitions are specific enough to make a regulatory lawyer feel quietly at home: sheer fabrics that expose the body, visible nudity, illusion mesh designed to simulate nudity, long trains that impede passage, and, perhaps most deliciously, overt brand insignia that redirects the audience’s attention from cinema to commerce.

That last one deserves a moment’s pause. The Palais steps are not a billboard. The Festival, in its institutional wisdom, has decided that the logo, that is the sacred totem of the modern fashion house, the thing around which entire brand identities and six-figure licensing agreements are constructed, is simply not welcome here. One can almost hear the quiet horror of a chief marketing officer in Milan receiving that particular memo. But France has always been clear about its hierarchy of values. Art, first. Commerce, later. Preferably much later.

Legally, the authority to enforce all of this flows from the festival’s status as a private event operating under a public licence. Under French administrative law,droit administratif — the organisers, working alongside the municipality of Cannes and the Direction Régionale des Affaires Culturelles, hold the power to set the conditions of entry. Refusing someone at the door for non-compliance is not, therefore, a violation of their rights. It is the exercise of a contractual and administrative prerogative that is as French as a well-timed shrug. Your gown may be couture. Your entry, however, is conditional.

The Selfie Prohibition & Media Law

Then there is the selfie. The ban on personal filming and photography on the Palais steps might look, on the surface, like a question of decorum; a civilised pushback against the modern compulsion to document everything rather than experience it. And it is that. But beneath the surface, it is also a question of image rights, press accreditation, and the carefully controlled economy of official photography.

Under French personality rights law — specifically the droit à l’image enshrined in Article 9 of the Civil Code — every individual retains a right over the commercial use of their own image. What this means at Cannes, in practice, is that the Festival holds curatorial rights over the visual narrative of its own event. Accredited wire photographers operate under specific licensing frameworks. The unofficial iPhone, held aloft by a well-meaning attendee, operates outside that framework entirely. The footage, once posted to Instagram or TikTok, potentially constitutes an unauthorised reproduction of a controlled image environment. The law, unfortunately, does not care that your angle was magnificent.

The same logic extends into the screening venues, where oversized bags and backpacks are now prohibited — less a comment on fashion sensibility than a consequence of post-2015 French emergency legislation and subsequent amendments to the Code de la sécurité intérieure. Running a major international cultural event in modern Europe is no longer a purely logistical exercise. It is a legislative one.

Cannes as Commercial Law Capital

Pull back from the red carpet, walk a few hundred metres down the Croisette, and you find a different Cannes entirely. The Marché du Film, which runs concurrently with the Festival and is, by some measures, the largest film market in the world, operates with the energy of a financial exchange floor that happens to smell of sunscreen and espresso. Here, the glamour is paperwork. The drama is a distribution clause. The tension is in the deadline.

The legal terrain of the Marché is shaped, above all, by two great forces: contract negotiation and piracy. On the contractual side, the governing instrument is the Rome I Regulation — a piece of EU law that determines which country’s legal framework applies when, say, a South Korean producer, a French distributor, and a British sales agent are closing a deal in a suite at the Carlton. In practice, most serious international film contracts settle this question early, usually opting for English law (with a certain post-Brexit irony that nobody in the room is fully over), French law, or New York law for American co-productions. The Marché is, in this sense, a living comparative law seminar. Except the stakes are real, the timelines are brutal, and the minibar is included.

Piracy is Cannes’ oldest legal nemesis. Screeners leak onto the dark web within hours of a premiere — sometimes minutes — and the industry has been fighting this reality for longer than streaming has existed. France’s HADOPI framework was born from this particular anxiety: a graduated response mechanism designed to identify, warn, and ultimately penalise persistent infringers. The EU’s Digital Single Market Directive, transposed into French law in 2021, reinforced the scaffolding further, extending platform liability and tightening obligations on hosting services that drag their feet on takedowns. The lawyers at Cannes are not merely there for the champagne receptions. They are there because the work requires it.

The AI Question & The European Regulatory Horizon

If the Marché is Cannes’ commercial conscience, the panel forums have become its philosophical one. And in recent years, especially, with particular urgency at Cannes 2026, that philosophy has been dominated by a single subject: artificial intelligence, more specifically, by the deeply uncomfortable question of what European law is going to do about it, and whether the law is moving quickly enough to matter.

The EU Artificial Intelligence Act, which entered its operational phases across 2024 and 2025, is the world’s first comprehensive attempt to regulate AI by risk category. For the creative industries, the implications are significant and, in several areas, still genuinely unresolved. The Act imposes transparency obligations on providers of general-purpose AI models, which have direct downstream consequences for studios, platforms, and production companies using AI tools to write scripts, generate visual effects, compose scores, or match talent to projects. At a festival where the question of whether AI-generated work should be eligible for competition has already generated more heat than light, the Act lands less as a resolution than as a new set of fault lines.

The copyright question is the sharpest edge of all of this. Under the current EU copyright doctrine, a protected work requires a human author. An entirely AI-generated film — should one arrive at the Palais in a competitive capacity — would, at present, have no rights holder. No one to sue, no one to license, no one to credit. This is not a hypothetical problem sitting safely in the future. It is arriving now, and the legal and curatorial communities at Cannes are only beginning to work out what it means. Who owns the creative output of a machine trained, often without consent, on the accumulated work of thousands of human artists? That question does not have a clean answer yet. But Cannes, characteristically, appropriately, is one of the places where the argument is loudest.

The City Beneath the Festival

It would be easy, writing about Cannes, to forget that there is an actual city here — population approximately 75,000, tucked into the Alpes-Maritimes with a perfectly reasonable life that continues for eleven and a half months of the year. During the Festival, that city is temporarily reorganised: traffic rerouted, public spaces reallocated, commercial licences redistributed, noise ordinances quietly suspended. Local event decrees issued by the municipality govern all of this, and the economic logic is not hard to follow; the Festival generates over €200 million in direct economic impact annually. The city tolerates its annual disruption because the annual disruption is, in fact, the point.

But Cannes, the city, is not merely a backdrop or a beneficiary. It is a legal participant. It negotiates the terms of its own transformation each spring with a combination of civic pragmatism and carefully drafted bylaws. The“cité” has, one imagines, a very good municipal solicitor.

What strikes you, stepping back from all of it, is how much invisible labour holds this spectacle together. The red carpet does not unroll itself. The rights’ packages do not self-assemble. The pirated screeners do not go quietly. The AI-generated script does not sit uncontested in the producer’s inbox.

Cannes is a festival of human creativity in ongoing negotiation with the systems we have built to protect, channel, and — not infrequently — constrain it. The law works best when you cannot see it. At Cannes, once you know where to look, you can see it in almost everything: in the cut of an approved gown, in the credentials around a photographer’s neck, in the fine print of a distribution agreement signed somewhere on the third floor of a hotel that charges €900 a night and is completely full.

The Croisette is many things. It is also, quietly, a jurisdiction. And it always has been.

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This year, the Met Gala became more than an event dedicated to showcasing clothes. Instead, it demonstrated an entirely new perspective on fashion, which reflects the complex interaction between this discipline and identity, commerce, culture, and law. Designers and celebrities used garments to express various aspects of their heritage, artistry, identity, and personal branding. At the same time, the gala drew attention to other aspects, such as intellectual property and endorsement agreements.

The Rise of Modern Menswear

Traditionally, the choices made by celebrities regarding menswear had been relatively restrained. Black tuxedos, monochromatic suits, and traditional styles had prevailed at high-end events. In recent years, however, men’s clothes have radically changed. Fashion brands have started experimenting with menswear, blurring gender boundaries, creating new designs, and allowing their wearers to view their outfits as a unique art form.

The Met Gala of 2026 marked a milestone in such evolution. Men showed up wearing elaborate clothing with heavy embellishments, oversized tailoring, velvet capes, embroidered jackets, pearl details, corsetry-style silhouettes, and avant-garde outerwear that did not match the traditionally expected definition of masculinity. The idea was not only to look elegant but also to create a personal style.

Some of the most prominent designers were Louis Vuitton, Prada, Thom Browne, Dior, Saint Laurent, and Chanel. Every designer offered an individual understanding of modern masculinity that reflected their unique style. The brand Thom Browne emphasized theatricality and oversized cuts, Saint Laurent did minimalistic yet monochromatic sophistication, Prada chose minimalistic experiments, and Louis Vuitton combined classic craftsmanship with contemporary pop celebrity culture..

The most significant feature of the night was the apparent influence of international craftsmanship. The use of traditional textile and embroidery techniques from different regions began to play an important role in designing modern menswear. Indian designer Manish Malhotra caught everyone’s attention due to the incorporation of intricate embroidery in the design of luxurious menswear for red carpet events. This trend demonstrates how the fashion industry itself is moving towards a new trend wherein modern menswear becomes equally commercially successful as womenswear. It seems that menswear has reached its heyday due to a growing interest in individuality on the part of young people.

Fashion as Personal Branding

Indeed, the Met Gala isn’t just a fashion show. It is a brand-building affair in which every appearance is carefully designed to build up celebrity images, enhance design identities, and generate online buzz. In contemporary society dominated by the power of social media, red-carpet fashion becomes an effective international marketing campaign. Attendees of the Met Gala are no longer merely models of the clothes they wear. On the contrary, they become brand ambassadors and partners in shaping fashion trends. Stylists, public relations companies, designers, photographers, and luxury conglomerates work together in order for every appearance to serve a bigger purpose in terms of brand building.

In the case of the Met Gala of 2026, celebrities such as A$AP Rocky, Karan Johar, Timothee Chalamet, Bad Bunny, and Dwayne Johnson all wore unique styles that fit their image, but at the same time served the purpose of promoting various luxury houses. The fashion on display immediately attracted millions of views online through social media discussions, editorials, and customer interaction. Such relationships between celebrities and fashion brands carry serious legal and economic consequences. Legalities involved include endorsement agreements, sponsorship deals, exclusivity contracts, and intellectual property rights licenses. 

In many cases, a single red-carpet appearance can significantly influence consumer behaviour. Viral fashion moments often lead to increased brand recognition, online searches, product demand, and stock value growth for luxury companies. Consequently, fashion branding today operates at the intersection of creativity, commerce, and legal regulation.

The Growing Influence of Gender-Fluid Fashion

Another major trend of the 2026 Met Gala is the normalization of gender-fluid fashion in menswear. The difference between male and female dressing is slowly diminishing, and it can be seen, for example, in luxury fashion events. Pearls, lace, corsets, draping, translucent fabrics, and jewellery are incorporated into menswear designs. Instead of being regarded as provocative and offensive, such fashion designs are embraced as examples of creativity and self-expression. Such trends reflect shifting perceptions among consumers, particularly Gen Z and younger millennials, who emphasize their individuality in clothing. The emergence of such attitudes has led to a response from luxury fashion brands, which create gender-neutral designs and fashion collections.

In terms of fashion law, the growth of popularity of gender-fluid fashion may affect laws regulating advertising and retailing activities. Traditionally, the fashion industry made extensive use of gender classifications while designing clothes and marketing campaigns. Now, such practices have become less popular since fashion designers themselves question the need for gender classification. Finally, dress codes and other rules regarding corporate branding practices may be altered due to evolving social and cultural values. Legal scholars specializing in fashion law have increasingly talked about the relevance of anti-discrimination laws in dress code rules. 

Cultural Representation and Appropriation

The Met Gala often provides an opportunity for cultural storytelling in terms of designers’ inspirations based on the history, art, and traditional crafts of different communities. Nonetheless, it brings up significant legal and ethical issues related to cultural appropriation and representation. Some examples of looks at the 2026 Met Gala included traditional embroidery, native elements, religious iconography, and regional fabrics. Even though in most cases, designers worked with artisans or craftspersons, discussions about ownership and representation continue to play an essential role in the fashion industry.

The issue of cultural appropriation is still one of the major concerns in relation to fashion law and ethics. It includes commercial use of culturally specific symbols belonging to marginalized ethnic groups without giving credit, permission, or compensation to them. Many luxury brands have come under fire for appropriating traditional symbols of other cultures in recent years. That is why collaboration with artisans, open-source information about materials, and cultural consultation have become a priority for fashion houses today. The 2026 Met Gala showcased an increasing number of fashion designers who spoke positively about artisans in interviews and media campaigns. 

Intellectual Property and Fashion Creativity

Intellectual property law and fashion have gained much overlap in the contemporary world, especially in the case of luxury fashion. As a prominent international event, the Met Gala becomes the natural stage for the meeting of originality, inspiration, and imitation. Most fashion pieces displayed at the 2026 Met Gala borrowed ideas from the art movements of previous eras, vintage couture collections, and notable fashion references. While the reinterpretation of classic silhouettes and art styles is quite common in fashion, it brings some issues to copyrights, trademarks, and design protections.

Unlike the music or literature industries, which benefit from strong copyright protection, the design protections vary greatly among jurisdictions. In most countries, clothing designs lack significant copyright protections and are protected via other means, like trademarks, brand identity, etc. The rising visibility of fashion designs that incorporate AI technology makes this an even more complex issue legally. The integration of technology in fashion design raises important issues about authorship, originality, and ownership.

Furthermore, counterfeiting of fashion items poses serious legal problems for luxury brands. Luxury trends are quickly incorporated into fast fashion through high-profile events like the Met Gala, where designs are copied on a large scale in response to the trends seen there. Although merely being inspired by a trend may not always be considered infringement, copying certain aspects of the work may raise IP issues. This means that the red carpet is both a medium of creative expression and a commercial space governed by laws and branding.

Discussions on Sustainability and Ethical Fashion

Sustainability is another topic that cropped up at the Met Gala held in 2026. It seems many designers focused on archival clothes, handmade garments, recycled materials, and craftsmanship principles associated with the slow fashion movement. In light of growing concerns about environmental problems, luxury fashion brands experience pressure to prove their commitment to ethical manufacturing processes. Red carpet fashion shows not only serve the purpose of entertaining an audience but also help brands show their sustainability efforts.

There are growing discussions within the realm of fashion law on matters of greenwashing, transparency in production processes, labour standards, and ecological responsibility. The authorities of different countries started analysing the sustainability efforts of fashion companies to stop fraudulent activities. The designs created by those designers who relied on craftsmanship and sustainable materials at the Met Gala found themselves in a good position due to new legislative trends.

The Met Gala as a Reflection of Fashion’s Future

Finally, the 2026 Met Gala became the place that showed the world that contemporary fashion is more than just clothing. In other words, discussions about identity, culture, commerce, technology, sustainability, and legality took place at the event. One of the most innovative components of the gala was menswear. Celebrities and designers questioned previous norms associated with masculinity, experimenting with art and craftsmanship from around the world. On the other hand, luxury fashion brands utilised the platform to enhance their storytelling and business impact. Lastly, another key aspect of fashion revealed by the 2026 Met Gala was that of fashion law. Issues related to intellectual property, sustainability, endorsement contracts, and digital advancements are crucial for the future of the global fashion industry.

Fashion in the contemporary era thrives at the convergence of innovation and regulation. The clothes seen at the Met Gala not only have artistic value; they also carry economic weight and legal ramifications. Fashion designers are expected to engage with their branding, intellectual property rights, contracts, and ethics while maintaining their creative freedom.

In this regard, the 2026 Met Gala was more than a red carpet event. Rather, it stood as a testament to the development of fashion into a multi-dimensional industry. The integration of art, economics, culture, and law makes up the complex world of fashion. With menswear redefining luxury fashion, events such as the Met Gala shall play pivotal roles in fashion’s future evolution.

The post Tailored Influence: Menswear At The Met Gala 2026 appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

The Devil Wears Prada franchise, across both its iterations and with escalating candour in the second, has never been, at its legal core, a story about fashion. It is a study in how certain industries construct what we might call zones of extra-legality: not lawless spaces, but spaces where the ordinary grammar of employment, intellectual property, and fiduciary obligation operates in a register so attenuated as to be effectively ornamental. What the fashion industry achieved, over the second half of the twentieth century with remarkable legislative and judicial complicity, was the consecration of the creative director as a figure who is simultaneously an employee, an author, a brand asset, and an institutional sovereign, categories whose legal incompatibility is resolved not through doctrinal synthesis but through deliberate ambiguity maintained across contract law, IP law, and labour regulation simultaneously.

This is the argument that fashion law scholarship has circled without landing: Miranda Priestly is not an aberration within a system. She is the system’s most legible expression.

The Author-Function and Its Proprietorial Distortions

Roland Barthes declared the death of the author in 1967. The fashion industry did not receive the memorandum, or rather, received it and filed a counter-submission. What the creative directorate model did, with a sophistication that most regulatory frameworks failed to anticipate, was to bifurcate the author-function: concentrating its reputational dimension in the named creative director while distributing its productive dimension across a largely uncredited, inadequately protected workforce. The result is an IP architecture of startling elegance and troubling consequence.

Under the work-for-hire doctrine as it operates across most major fashion jurisdictions, the creative output of design assistants, junior editors, stylists, and trend researchers vests immediately and entirely in the employing entity. This is unremarkable as a doctrinal matter. What is remarkable is the secondary effect: that the creative director, whose contribution is frequently curatorial and directional rather than generative, accumulates authorial prestige that the law then retroactively legitimises through trademark, trade dress, and moral rights frameworks that attach to the name rather than to demonstrable creative origination. The house of Runway, to pursue the franchise’s conceit, does not protect Miranda Priestly’s ideas. It protects the sign Miranda Priestly, which is a categorically different, and legally far more robust, form of protection.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 makes this structure visible in ways the original could only imply. The sequel’s interest in succession, in the question of who inhabits the authority that Miranda’s name has accumulated, is less a character study than an inadvertent treatise on the personality rights of institutional brands. When the question the film cannot quite bring itself to answer directly is whether Miranda’s authority is transferable, it is, without intending to, asking whether the sovereign exception is personal or structural. The answer, from Agamben and from the fashion industry’s actual contractual practice, is that it is always structural. The exception precedes the individual who inhabits it.

Fiduciary Silence and the Ethics of Creative Exploitation

There is a doctrine in corporate law, applied with considerable flexibility and occasional incoherence, called the duty of loyalty. It holds that those in positions of authority over others bear not merely contractual obligations but something approaching a fiduciary obligation: an affirmative duty whose breach cannot be contracted away. Fashion law has, with some notable exceptions in the context of designer non-competes and trade secret litigation, largely failed to interrogate whether the creative directorate relationship gives rise to anything resembling fiduciary character.

This failure is consequential. The relationship between Miranda Priestly and her assistants, as both films construct it, is not simply an employment relationship in the conventional sense. It is a relationship in which the employer exerts authority not merely over the labour performed but over the professional identity of the person performing it. Andrea Sachs is not merely being asked to complete tasks; she is being asked to reconstitute herself, her aesthetic sensibility, her social relations, her relationship to her own time, as instruments of Miranda’s institutional project. The law has a name for relationships of this character when they arise in other contexts. In the mentor-protégé structures of medicine, law, and finance, courts have occasionally been willing to find that the power differential and the scope of influence create obligations that exceed the contractual. Fashion has, with impressive consistency, avoided this analysis entirely.

The doctrinal reason is not difficult to locate: the persistent characterisation of fashion work as aspiration rather than labour. The cultural discourse surrounding the industry, which the franchise both critiques and reproduces, frames proximity to creative power as a privilege whose costs are naturally borne by the one who seeks it. This framing does not emerge from nowhere. It is constructed and maintained through specific rhetorical practices, through the language of opportunity and access and mentorship that has historically inoculated fashion employment relationships against the fiduciary analysis that their actual structure might otherwise invite.

The Exception as Legal Technology

What Schmitt understood, and what the fashion industry intuited without requiring the theoretical apparatus, is that the exception is not the failure of the norm. It is the norm’s most powerful tool. The creative director who operates outside ordinary accountability does not thereby undermine the legal system that governs the industry. She confirms it by demonstrating that the system is capacious enough to contain and to legitimate the concentration of authority that her position represents.

The legal technology through which this is achieved is neither simple nor unsophisticated. It operates across at least three registers simultaneously. In contract law, the personal service nature of creative employment is deployed to restrict worker mobility through non-competes while simultaneously denying workers the relational protections that the personal nature of the engagement might otherwise generate. In IP law, the work-for-hire framework captures creative output upward while moral rights frameworks, where they exist, vest in the employing entity rather than the individual author. In employment law, the at-will character of most fashion employment, combined with the industry’s structural dependence on informal networks of recommendation and reputation, creates a disciplinary apparatus that operates largely outside the formal adjudicative machinery that employment law nominally provides.

The cumulative effect is a workforce that is, in the technical legal sense, extensively protected and, in any practical sense, largely without recourse. Miranda Priestly operates within this system not because she transcends it but because the system was designed, through decades of contractual practice, legislative lobbying, and judicial deference, to produce exactly the kind of authority she exercises. The Devil Wears Prada 2’s particular contribution to this analysis is its suggestion that this authority survives even its nominal holder, that the exception has become so institutionalised as to be self-reproducing. That is not a fashion story. That is a constitutional one.

Towards a Jurisprudence of the Atelier

Fashion law, as an academic discipline with genuine ambitions, must eventually confront the question it has been too polite, or perhaps too implicated, to pose directly: whether the legal frameworks governing creative industries are describing a power structure or producing one. The franchise, for all its considerable pleasures, does the discipline the service of making this question impossible to avoid.

The creative directorate is not a natural phenomenon that law has struggled to categorise. It is a legal construction, assembled from specific doctrinal choices across multiple bodies of law, maintained through the active participation of transactional lawyers, IP practitioners, and employment counsel who have, collectively, built the juridical infrastructure that makes Miranda Priestly possible. The question of whether that infrastructure is defensible, whether the exceptional authority it generates is proportionate to any legitimate interest the law might recognise, is one that the discipline has the analytical tools to address and, thus far, a conspicuous reluctance to deploy.

The devil, it turns out, does not merely wear Prada. She wears, with considerably more structural consequence, the architecture of her own legal impunity. And it fits her perfectly.

That’s all.

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The event was staged as an immersive performance at the intersection of fashion, theatre, and art — a reflection of Bila’s 17-year theatrical career. In this space, garments become characters, and the runway transforms into a living stage.

The Show 

The evening opened with a live orchestral performance featuring excerpts from Modelle by Hans Zender. Actress Larisa Rusnak (Ivan Franko National Academic Drama Theatre) appeared in a short theatrical scene, blurring the line between performer and spectator.

The audience then witnessed a retrospective of MY THEATRE’s past collections, tracing the evolution of the brand. A highlight of the evening was a musical performance by Onuka, whose soundscape amplified the immersive atmosphere of the show.

As always, craftsmanship remained central to the brand: hand-crafted buttons, intricate embroidery, silk, velvet, brocade, and wool — each look representing dozens of hours of artisanal labor. The evening culminated with the unveiling of the new Collection №6.

About The Collection 

Collection №6 continues the core philosophy of MY THEATRE: conscious garment creation emphasizing craftsmanship, texture, and emotional depth.

The collection draws inspiration from the opera The Tales of Hoffmann, for which Dariia Bila previously designed stage costumes. Exploring love, illusion, and the inner world of a woman, the opera became the conceptual foundation of the collection.

The palette begins with shades of grey — initially unsettling, but ultimately forming the backdrop from which a new heroine emerges. At the heart of Collection №6 lies a sense of anticipation: the delicate moment between doubt and certainty, searching and equilibrium. The MY THEATRE heroine listens to herself, allowing transformation through the process rather than rushing toward it.

Dariia Bila— Comments

“This show is about emotion and the search for identity. It is a retrospective of MY THEATRE — a journey through collections, performances, doubts, and joys that have shaped the brand. Every detail matters, echoing the most subtle human emotions. The finale presents a new collection dedicated to hope — because even in the darkest night, dawn always comes.“

Instagram: @mytheatre.by.dariiabila

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Fashion likes to pretend that curation is instinct. A feeling. A collage. Something ineffable and therefore untouchable. In 2026, that fantasy is collapsing.

The industry has spent the last decade refining its ability to reference without naming, to borrow without acknowledging, to aestheticise without accountability. Moodboards became denser. References became more precise. The language of “vibes” and “energy” did the heavy lifting that contracts and consent conveniently avoided.

What is shifting now is not the creativity of fashion, but the tolerance around its methods. The law has not suddenly become more aggressive. Culture has become more precise. Consumers have become fluent in reading subtext. And once meaning becomes legible, it becomes examinable.

Curation is no longer a soft act. It is a traceable one.

The End of Aesthetic Amnesia

Aesthetic amnesia is fashion’s most reliable survival tactic. Borrow the look. Forget the origin. Archive the silhouette. Erase the context. Repeat.

In 2026, that cycle feels increasingly indefensible.

Brands have grown exceptionally skilled at mining cultural memory. Subcultures. Regional dress. Personal wardrobes. Private histories. What they remain poor at is responsibility. The legal frameworks that govern fashion still treat inspiration as weightless unless it crosses into blatant replication. Culture, however, does not work on that threshold.

When a collection leans heavily on recognisable grief aesthetics, underground communities, class-coded dress or hyper-specific femininities, the question is no longer whether copying occurred. The question is whether harm was done. And fashion law has no language for that yet.

This is the gap that matters.

Because consumers already understand when something feels extracted. They may not articulate it in legal terms, but the instinct is there. The law is late to this conversation, but it is being dragged in by evidence it cannot ignore. Screenshots. Side-by-side comparisons. Digital timelines. The paper trail of taste.

Amnesia fails when memory is searchable.

The Muse Without Consent Is Ageing Badly

Fashion’s favourite figure is the unnamed muse. She is everywhere and nowhere. She is never contracted, never credited, never compensated. She exists as a reference, not as a person.

For years, this was romanticised. Inspiration was framed as reverence. Homage. A wink to culture. But something has shifted in how that figure is perceived. The muse without consent now reads less like poetry and more like appropriation by omission.

Legally, she remains difficult to protect. Personality rights still rely heavily on identification. Names. Faces. Likeness. But fashion has evolved beyond that. It now trades in essence. In recognisability without attribution. In specificity that stops just short of naming.

The consumer fills in the gap instantly. They know who is being referenced. They know what life, what community, what story is being stylised. The brand may deny intent, but denial rings hollow when recognition is widespread.

In 2026, this tension sharpens. The law has not caught up, but pressure builds around doctrines like passing off, false association and misrepresentation. Not because the muse is famous, but because the reference is legible.

Fashion is learning that anonymity is not the same as consent.

Consumer Perception Is Becoming Evidence

Fashion law has traditionally privileged intent. What did the designer mean? What did the brand intend? What was the internal process?

That hierarchy is being quietly disrupted.

In a culture where meaning is co-created, interpretation matters. If a significant segment of consumers perceives a collection as referencing a specific person, identity or cultural moment, that perception begins to carry weight. Not emotionally. Legally.

Courts have always engaged with consumer perception in trademark and advertising disputes. What is new is its relevance to fashion narratives. Campaigns are no longer neutral visuals. They are stories. Stories make claims. Claims can be misleading.

When a brand leans into social positioning, political undertones or cultural symbolism, it invites scrutiny. Not admiration alone. Scrutiny. And that scrutiny increasingly asks whether consumers were led to believe something that was never true.

This is where fashion’s love for ambiguity starts to look like strategy rather than art.

Plausible Deniability Is Losing Its Charm

For decades, fashion relied on a simple defence. It is just fashion. It is just inspiration. It is subjective.

That defence worked when the industry was opaque. It struggles now because everything is documented. Moodboards leak. Creative directors explain themselves online. Influences are traced in real time.

Plausible deniability depends on distance. Distance between reference and result. Distance between source and sale. Distance between narrative and reality.

That distance has collapsed.

In 2026, brands that still rely on ambiguity as insulation will find it less effective. Not because the law has hardened, but because the audience has sharpened. And where audiences lead, regulators eventually follow.

Fashion does not need stricter laws yet. It needs fewer excuses.

Narrative Is No Longer Weightless

Storytelling has become fashion’s most valuable asset. Brands sell myth as much as material. Heritage. Rebellion. Soft power. Feminism. Craft. Belonging.

The problem is that narratives, once repeated often enough, begin to look like promises.

Consumer protection law has always cared about misrepresentation. Fashion simply assumed it was exempt because it trafficked in fantasy. That assumption is eroding.

When a brand positions itself as ethical, inclusive, culturally grounded or socially aware, it creates expectations. When those expectations are not met, disappointment turns into distrust. Distrust is reputational. Sometimes it becomes legal.

2026 is not the year fashion stops telling stories. It is the year it learns to stand by them.

Taste Is Power and Power Is Accountable

Fashion has long avoided confronting taste as power. Taste was framed as subjective, elite, harmless. But taste determines visibility. It decides whose bodies are desirable, whose cultures are valuable, whose histories are marketable.

That is power.

And power without accountability is unstable.

As fashion becomes more global, more referential and more psychologically fluent, it cannot pretend that taste is neutral. Curating desire shapes markets. Markets shape behaviour. Behaviour has consequences.

Fashion law must begin to acknowledge this chain. Not to police creativity, but to recognise impact.

What 2026 Quietly Demands

This is not a call for censorship. It is a call for clarity.

The industry does not need fewer references. It needs better ones. It does not need less inspiration. It needs more responsibility.

2026 asks fashion to be precise about what it borrows, honest about what it sells and aware of who pays the price when beauty is extracted without care.

Curation is no longer just an aesthetic exercise. It is a legal, cultural and ethical act.

And pretending otherwise is the most outdated trend of all.

The post Call Me by Your Reference: On Aesthetic Amnesia, Unnamed Muses And The Cost Of Curation In 2026 appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

Rather than existing as a frozen subculture, goth clothing has proven remarkably adaptable. It absorbs change without losing its identity, which explains why designers, stylists, and everyday wearers continue to draw from it, often without explicitly labeling their references as “goth”.

A Style Built on Structure, Not Trends

One of the reasons goth clothing continues to influence modern fashion is its foundation. Unlike trend-driven aesthetics that rely on novelty, goth is built around structure. Long lines, sharp tailoring, heavy fabrics, and deliberate silhouettes form a visual language that remains effective regardless of the era.

Modern collections regularly revisit these elements. Dark monochrome palettes, elongated coats, fitted tops, and strong footwear appear season after season, sometimes stripped of overt symbolism, sometimes embraced more fully. The influence is subtle, but consistent. Goth clothing offers designers a vocabulary that feels serious, controlled, and timeless.

The Enduring Appeal of Black

Black plays a central role in goth clothing, but its influence goes far beyond color preference. In goth fashion, black is used to emphasize form, texture, and contrast rather than decoration. This approach has naturally found its way into contemporary fashion, where restraint and clarity are increasingly valued.

Modern minimalism, for example, often borrows from goth’s understanding of black as a foundation rather than a statement. The result is clothing that feels grounded, versatile, and intentional. Even outside explicitly goth contexts, this influence is evident in the way black continues to dominate runways and wardrobes alike.

Materials That Carry Weight

Another reason goth clothing resonates in modern fashion lies in its relationship with materials. Leather, lace, velvet, heavy cottons, and structured synthetics are chosen not for trend appeal, but for their ability to hold shape and convey presence.

Contemporary fashion frequently returns to these materials when seeking depth or seriousness. Whether softened or reinterpreted, they bring a tactile quality that contrasts with lighter, more disposable fabrics. Goth clothing’s emphasis on material weight aligns naturally with current discussions around longevity and quality.

A Focus on Silhouette Over Decoration

Goth clothing has always prioritized silhouette over surface-level detail. Clean lines, defined waists, elongated shapes, and controlled proportions create impact without relying on excess embellishment.

This principle has become increasingly relevant in modern fashion, where the overall shape of a garment often matters more than prints or logos. Designers influenced by goth aesthetics tend to focus on how clothing frames the body, moves, and occupies space. The result is fashion that feels intentional and enduring rather than ornamental.

From Subculture to Reference Point

While goth clothing originated within a distinct cultural context, its influence today extends far beyond subcultural boundaries. It has become a reference point rather than a fixed identity. Stylists may draw from goth silhouettes without adopting its full aesthetic, and wearers may integrate individual elements into otherwise neutral wardrobes.

This flexibility explains why goth clothing continues to feel relevant. It doesn’t demand total commitment. Instead, it offers components that can be adapted, layered, and reinterpreted. Specialized platforms focused on goth fashion, such as Killstar, Dollskill or Goth Apparel, reflect this evolution by presenting the style as a cohesive wardrobe rather than a costume or statement.

A Counterbalance to Fast Fashion

In a fashion landscape dominated by speed and constant renewal, goth clothing offers a counterbalance. Its emphasis on repetition, durability, and visual consistency stands in contrast to fast fashion cycles.

This doesn’t mean goth clothing rejects change. Rather, it integrates it slowly. Pieces are worn repeatedly, adapted over time, and valued for their staying power. This approach aligns with a growing desire for wardrobes built around continuity rather than constant replacement.

Why the Influence Endures

Goth clothing continues to influence modern fashion because it addresses something fundamental. It provides structure in an environment that often feels visually saturated. It offers seriousness without rigidity, and expression without excess.

Its influence is not always obvious, but it is deeply embedded in how contemporary fashion approaches color, silhouette, and material. Goth clothing doesn’t dominate trends, it underpins them.

Conclusion

The lasting influence of goth clothing is not accidental. It persists because it was never designed to follow fashion cycles. Built on structure, materiality, and consistency, it offers a framework that remains relevant regardless of shifting trends.

As modern fashion continues to balance expression with restraint, goth clothing remains a quiet but powerful reference. Not as a revival, but as a foundation that continues to shape how fashion looks, feels, and endures.

The post Why Goth Clothing Continues to Influence Modern Fashion appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

Today, Football stands as one of the more influential games. From stopping civil wars to dropping Coca-Cola’s share price and dominating the Paris Fashion Week, football and footballers have displayed their global influence time after time. Recently, it is the off-field fashion game that’s been stealing the show, with football clubs delivering wardrobe wins that outshine runway staples.

Enter the blockbuster partnership between Tommy Hilfiger and Liverpool FC: a first-of-its-kind global collab that outfits the men’s and women’s squads in curated American classics, from matchday arrivals to campaigns. Announced in January 2026, this multi-year deal (rumoured to span two decades) positions Tommy as the club’s official apparel partner, dressing stars like the captain Virgil van Dijk, Dominik Szoboszlai, Gemma Bonner and Leanne Kiernan in head-to-toe looks blending timeless denim, ‘New York’ dress-casual essentials, accessories and even footwear.​

Nike Tech x Chelsea: The Collab That Set the Bar Sky-High

It is not the first time clothing brands team up with football clubs, Dior, Moncler, Balenciaga, Louis Vuitton, these are just some of the big names who have produced some of the most iconic pieces in football fashion.

More recently, Nike’s Tech Pack x Chelsea FC released the Tech Boreas Tracksuit, transforming matchday arrivals into a fashion runway show. The asymmetrical zips slicing through structured hoods, premium fleece in sleek black-silver palettes. It wasn’t mere merch; it was innovation combining sport, streetwear and high design. The Tech Fleece aesthetic spoke to a generation raised on athleisure, where comfort and style play in the same midfield. It felt current, confident, and unmistakably elite.

The collaboration also raised expectations across the league. Suddenly, fans didn’t just want kits — they wanted lifestyle drops that could hold their own against top-tier streetwear brands.

Liverpool-Tommy channels that energy but pivots to polished prep. Ditch the drab suits; envision tailored blazers kissed with subtle red accents, crisp polos echoing the club’s preppy heritage. Subtle Liver Bird embroidery nods to Bill Shankly’s revolutionary ’60s era, when Liverpool rose from Second Division obscurity to conquer Europe. It’s trivia for the fashion crowd: ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, that spine-tingling hymn adopted in 1963 from Carousel, now woven into wardrobe lore.​

Why Tommy-Liverpool Partnership Work?

These partnerships are not just branding exercises. They are built on a shared deliberate cultural alignment. Football offers more than just viewers; it has worldwide fanbases forged through nights of European glory, collective heartbreaks and an unbreakable sense of togetherness. They do not simply say “You Never Walk Alone”, they live it. From Heysel’s defiance to Hillsborough’s unity, football loyalty is earned the hard way — and fashion knows better than to treat that lightly.

What Tommy Hilfiger does is find a way to incorporate itself without disregarding the cultural weight that the club carries. It creates a rare balance between the two. Hilfiger’s design language — rooted in relaxed Americana and clean tailoring — translates football identity into wearable aspiration. The appeal lies in accessibility: blending premium fabrics like structured wool and breathable cottons at approachable prices, democratising The Kop-end polish for everyday supporters rather than elite exclusivity. This is fashion that doesn’t alienate the fanbase; it invites them in.

This partnership is not simply for commercial gain. While the others chase innovation through technology and plans for the future. This collaboration celebrates history and heritage. It revives the past: classic silhouettes, minimal yet effective detailing and visual cues tied to defining eras and personalities. This return to retro is not nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake; it reflects a deeper desire for supporters to reconnect with the stories that shaped their clubs.

Elevating Anfield’s Aura: Squad Style Meets Supporter Dreams

On the pitch, it’s tactical genius; off it, sartorial supremacy. Slot’s Champions arrive looking invincible – Szoboszlai’s composure on the ball mirrored in the silhouettes, Bonner’s grit in empowered tailoring. Fans adore it; social scrolls brim with hype over the upgrade from generic garb. Sure, purists grumble about price tags, but tiered ranges ensure accessibility – think entry polos for the casual, full suits for the diehard.

This is football fashion that does not shout. Clean tailoring, structured outerwear, knitwear, and subtle colour palettes dominate the visual language. The message is clear: footballers do not need to be extravagant to be stylish. Confidence, discipline, and presence are enough.

For supporters, this is how they face everyday life with Anfield’s intensity. It bridges the gap between professional and personal, allowing for versatility that moves effortlessly from matchday to Monday morning.

This elevates Liverpool beyond its rivals. While Manchester City flexes Puma athleisure, Arsenal courts Castore minimalism, the Reds claim preppy prestige. It’s a nod to global appeal: Asia’s Kop Kids, America’s touring faithful, all craving that blend of heritage and hype.

The Bigger Picture: Football Fashion’s Endless Pitch

Football’s style surge signals deeper shifts. Post-pandemic, fans crave identity beyond jerseys – enter lifestyle drops that live in wardrobes year-round. What we’re seeing now is a permanent shift in how style, identity, and fandom intersect. Tommy-Liverpool could spawn pop-ups at Anfield, co-branded events echoing Chelsea’s Nike unveilings. Imagine Salah in a hybrid kit-suit, or women’s stars fronting capsule campaigns.

Non-fan or fanatic, this partnership dazzles. It’s football proving once more: the game’s biggest wins happen in style. Tommy Hilfiger and Liverpool FC aren’t just dressing a team; they’re redefining sport’s sartorial legacy, one sharp lapel at a time. Here’s to more collabs that make us all look like winners.

The post Tommy Hilfiger x Liverpool FC: Football’s Sharpest Style Moment Yet appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

The Hierarchy of Art: Why Fashion Has Always Been Underestimated

Fashion has long struggled for acknowledgement and recognition within the established art canon. For centuries, the painter’s brush, the sculptor’s chisel, and the musician’s score reigned supreme, while fashion was dismissed as a fleeting commodity, a superficial subset, a mere accessory to life rather than a form of intellectual or aesthetic expression. Art history’s fixation on permanence and “high” culture pushed fashion to the margins, seen as craft rather than art, industry rather than inspiration.

But this dismissal ignores fundamental truths: fashion is inherently artistic. It involves composition, colour, textures, innovation, and storytelling. Designing a garment or even styling a look is akin to painting with fabric and form, sculpting identity and cultural narrative. When we consider iconic pieces like the structural genius of Charles James’ ballgowns, the surreal visionary collaborations of Elsa Schiaparelli and Salvador Dalí, or the boundary-pushing designs of Rei Kawakubo, we see undeniable artistry that transcends utility and function.

Costume Art: More Than a Theme; It’s a Challenge to Artistic Prejudice

The 2026 Met Gala’s Costume Art theme is a bold, timely challenge to the art world’s longstanding prejudices. Even though the dress code for the 2026 Gala has not been announced yet, the theme urges us to look beyond fashion’s surface–past the transient trends and consumer cycles–and recognise the artistry baked into every stitch, fold, and flourish. This theme aims to elevate fashion from “clothes” to a vital art form, emphasising that the way we adorn our bodies is a creative act just as profound as painting or sculpture. It’s beautiful, it’s raw, and it’s enticing.

Curator-in-Chief Andrew Bolton captured this essence when he said, “I wanted to focus on the centrality of the dressed body within the museum, connecting artistic representations of the body with fashion as an embodied art form.” His words remind us that clothing is not just an accessory to our bodies but a direct expression and extension of identity, culture, and art itself. It turns the body into a canvas, and at the Met, this idea will be celebrated through an exhibition opening come spring 2026, featuring pieces that exemplify the deep relationship between the human form and the garments that define it.

This exhibition will showcase how clothing transforms the body into an artwork, whether through sculptural couture, wearable sculptures, or fashion that challenges normative ideas of beauty and identity. It will explore the ways in which garments can embody cultural history, political messages, and social narratives, capturing the complex dialogue between art, fashion, and human experience. Fashion has always had ties to society; fashion changes as the economy, society, and politics change. The 2025 and 2026 themes uphold this, as well as the recent changes in style and trends. 

Fashion’s Dialogue with Society: The Artifice and Authenticity of Identity

In today’s hyperconnected world, discussions about cultural appropriation, identity politics, and representation have catapulted fashion to the forefront of societal and online discourse. The red carpet is no longer merely a parade of beauty; it is a powerful stage for political statements, reclamation of culture, and the contestation of norms.

The Met Gala, year after year, becomes a microcosm of these debates. Consider 2024’s Black Dandyism theme, which elevated expressions of Black identity and style to an art form, challenging racist cultural erasures. The theme’s Superfine: Tailoring Black Style showcased how tailored silhouettes became acts of resistance, elegance, and history.

Costume Art continues this trajectory by highlighting fashion’s capacity to carry memory, myth, and meaning. It celebrates how designers channel the surrealist brush of Elsa Schiaparelli or the sculptural mastery of Charles James, or reinterpret historical and contemporary sociopolitical themes through fabric and form. The exhibition aims to deepen our understanding of the “indivisible connection between our bodies and the clothes we wear,” as Bolton emphasises. Clothes, in this context, are not mere covers but are expressions of our lived experience, embracing ageing, gender, cultural identity, and societal values.

The Body as Living Canvas: Where Costume Meets Embodiment

Andrew Bolton’s vision: “the centrality of the dressed body within the museum connecting artistic representations of the body with fashion as an embodied art form” underscores that clothing is not just ornamentation but is an ongoing dialogue with our physical and emotional selves. The exhibition will challenge the tendency to abstract or glorify the body, instead celebrating its diversity and vulnerability. It champions garments that reflect age, gender, body types, and cultural backgrounds, emphasising that fashion’s true artistry lies in its capacity to mirror human reality.

This focus on embodiment also shifts the conversation around beauty, which is a core and paramount theme of artistic expression. With displays that include ageing and pregnant bodies, as well as diverse physiques, the exhibit will openly challenge traditional standards of beauty, advocating a broader, more inclusive definition of aesthetic excellence.

Lessons from the Red Carpet: When Fashion Transforms into Performance

The Met Gala’s red carpet is fashion’s grand theatre. It’s where we witness designers and celebrities collaborate to produce living artworks that narrate complex ideas. Some looks pay explicit homage to art movements like Surrealism or Pop Art; others convey political and personal statements and narratives through colour, shape, and symbolism.

Recall Rihanna’s Guo Pei gown at the 2015 China: Through the Looking Glass Gala, a majestic yellow masterpiece embroidered with floral motifs and weighing over 50 pounds, exemplifying craftsmanship and cultural storytelling. Or Lady Gaga’s 2019 Camp performance, a theatrical sequence where she shed layers of outrageous outfits: each a statement on identity, artifice, and creation.

These moments fortify that fashion (like art) is performative, provocative, and deeply expressive. The Costume Art theme will challenge designers and celebrities to push beyond fashion, as fashion, urging them to craft visual narratives rooted in history, mythology, and societal issues.

Fashion and the Digital Age: Online Debate and Society’s Engagement

Amidst this, the ongoing social media discourse is vital. Conversations about cultural appropriation, authenticity, and the politics of representation animate platforms like Twitter and TikTok. Each viral look sparks debate about what constitutes art and what crosses the line into cultural insensitivity.

Fashion’s digital democratisation allows marginalised voices to critique and reshape the narrative, challenging the privileging of “high art” standards. The Costume Art theme acts as a rallying cry for that discussion: celebrating diverse stories, artistic innovation, and the vital significance of clothing as cultural expression.

Toward a Broader Art History

The enduring struggle is: Why is fashion still considered separate from traditional art? This question echoes in galleries, museums, and classrooms alike. As the costume collections grow in prominence, it’s clear that the art world might hopefully expand its definition to include fashion as a dynamic, living art form that evolves with society.

The Costume Art exhibition at the Met will do more than showcase beautiful clothes; it will challenge us to see fashion as a vital, expressive, and transformative artistic language. Its influence extends beyond aesthetics, shaping cultural dialogue, identity formation, and societal change.

Closing Reflection: What the Future Holds

The 2026 Met Gala, with its Costume Art theme, is set to be more than a spectacular dress-up and, hopefully, a statement about the power of fashion to reflect its stance in society. As I watch the preparations unfold, I see it as a moment of breakthrough: fashion finally stepping into the art world’s heart, embracing its role as a conduit of cultural memory, artistic expression, and individual identity.

More than glamour, this will be an act of cultural reclamation and an affirmation that clothing is art, and that the artistry of fashion deserves recognition, reflection, and respect. This is the year fashion meets art in a profound way, and I believe this dialogue, sparked by the Costume Art theme, will resonate far beyond the red carpet.

The post Costume Art: The 2026 Met Gala and Fashion’s Unseen Mastery appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

But as the glitter settled, one thing became clear: you just can’t please everyone.​

The Show as a Mirror: Glamour, Grievances, and Growing Pains

Online reactions are a masterclass in contradiction. Last year, some fans mourned the loss of the old bombshell blowout hair and maximalist fantasy wings, yearning for the “impossible” glamour of past Angels. And then they cheered for this year’s comeback looks and relatable moments while simultaneously slamming them for “cheapening” the show’s reputation.

Want more sparkle? You’ll get a complaint about excess.

Miss the sparkle? The new wings are called lazy, and the fantasy bra isn’t expensive enough.

And the cast, oh the cast — which, remarkably, now includes athletes (Angel Reese), influencers (Gabriela Moura, Quenlin Blackwell), Olympic gold-medalists (Suni Lee), and legacy supermodels (Adriana Lima, Gigi Hadid, Anok Yai) — is an ongoing battleground. Last year, critics bemoaned influencers for taking space from “real” models; this year, some praise their presence while others doubled down, arguing that VS models should represent “unattainable” standards, a fantasy worth striving (and suffering) for.​

Music, Moments, and More: You Really Can’t Win

Music choices aren’t immune to this cycle. Madison Beer was lauded for fitting the historic VS aesthetic, but netizens wanted Tate McRae or Sabrina Carpenter for “perfect” pop vibes. Some fans were excited for TWICE’s crossover performance, but harsh criticism followed, particularly of the group’s live vocals.

It’s a pattern: last year, a group was slammed, this year they’re praised, next year the cycle repeats.​ Who knows what will happen?

Frustratingly, even wholesome moments fuel the discourse, like the tradition of Dylan Sprouse supporting his partner Barbara Sprouse from the front row, generating both awws and eye-rolls about “performative support”. Emma Beddington was right, advice pollution is a real thing.

The Real Issue: Societal Discontent and Shifting Standards

At its core, the fashion show’s controversy isn’t just about the models or the music. It’s about society’s ever-shifting yardsticks and the digital age’s appetite for debate. The runway becomes a lightning rod for bigger tensions: beauty standards, inclusivity, authenticity, and the fantasy that someone somewhere can finally “get it right.”

When VS focused on a single type of body, tall, ultra-thin, and white, there was rightful outrage about exclusion. Now, with more racial diversity and incremental size representation, some argue it’s not enough, while others claim the brand has lost its aspirational identity. The same crowd that called for change demands tradition; those who loved the old models want more from the new. It’s not just fashion; it’s a reflection of our societal ambivalence about progress.

The Takeaway: Pleasing Everyone is a Mirage

Digital culture amplifies these contradictions. Social feeds and comment sections cycle between nostalgia for the “glory days” and applause for disruption, backlash against inclusivity and campaigns for relatability, praise and vitriol often aimed at the same moment. Each change sparks both celebration and crisis.

Victoria’s Secret, like many cultural institutions, is stuck in a feedback loop: evolve and face backlash, stay stagnant and risk irrelevance. The real answer isn’t about lace, wings, or who walks the runway. It’s about the impossibility of meeting the needs of every audience, and the potential beauty in embracing imperfection, open-ended progress, and representation that’s almost always “not enough yet.”​

The 2025 fashion show isn’t a verdict on Victoria’s Secret alone; it’s an ongoing conversation about what society wants, expects, and demands. For now, it seems pleasing everyone is beyond anyone’s reach, but maybe the dialogue itself is the point.

The post Who Gets to Be Pleased? Victoria’s Secret, Society, and the Impossible Quest for Consensus appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.