Balenciaga’s Paris show was held in a post-apocalyptic pit of mud where models stomped and stooped their way through a swamp, their decadent SS23 garments trailing behind them on the dirty floor. The JW Anderson catwalk saw models draped in purposefully crinkled dresses adorned with huge, novelty computer keys (ctrl+alt+delete, anyone?), walking the runway in clunky Crocs-cum-wellies. And to top it off, one of the most popular fashion week TikToks was from the Fecal Matter brand showcasing its heels (worn by a guest on the f’row) which are made to look like pointy human flesh.
Gross, perhaps — but gross is all the rage, don’t you know? The term “anti-fashion” once referred to styles and garments which run contrary to the dominant trends; to “ugly”, strange or ill-fitting clothes, worn in mismatched layers, as an expression of independence from, or indifference to, the dominant mode. It was a look synonymous with counterculture in the Sixties, punk in the Seventies and grunge in the Nineties — for decades, these DIY aesthetics shared that common purpose — to say “f**k you” to fashion. If this round of fashion weeks is anything to go by, though, anti-fashion has become, well, fashionable.
“This trend is [about] defiance,” says artist, designer and sneaker customiser Helen Kirkum. “Subverting fashion’s usual rules of form and silhouette to combine clothes, patterns and textures in a way that is not commonly accepted as beautiful.” Fashion industry trend forecaster Geraldine Wharry, who has been charting the rise of “ugly” fashion for a while, agrees: “Whatever we used to consider ugly — that has completely changed. There has been this rebellion against traditional beauty standards, and the binary way we look at beauty. Now it’s about fluidity — about women not wanting to be objectified.”
And indeed, when Rei Kawakubo sent her models down the Comme des Garçons runway last Saturday in giant, sculptural silhouettes, their figures obscured beneath volumes of carefully sculpted and pleated fabrics — the very last thing anyone in the crowd (which included the likes of Simone Rocha, Molly Goddard, Rick Owens and Francesco Risso) was thinking about was sex appeal. Comme des Garçons laid the groundwork for this trend long ago and continues to prove that outlandish anti-fashion is here to stay.
People started wearing huge, oversized clothes — now you can see that reflected everywhere on the runways
Fashion commentator and podcaster Jess Doolan argues that ugly fashion was just another Gen-Z subculture until the pandemic. “I feel like a big part in this ugly fashion movement has been Covid — we were locked inside for so long that we started to adopt looks that were comfier. People started wearing huge, oversized clothes — now you can see that reflected everywhere on the runways.” Jordan Bowen — creative director at JORDANLUCA, hailed as “the bright young brand to watch” at Milan men’s fashion week — agrees with Doolan: “The landscape of the industry has shifted since the pandemic and its creators are taking a holistic approach to design.”
Doolan says “high-end designers have always had their roots in ‘ugly’ fashion, because the best designers always try to push boundaries.” The difference now, though, is the sheer number of us coveting the look. “It’s an interesting interplay between the consumer and the designer — who’s influenced who?” asks Doolan.
Anti-fashion sentiments have been bubbling up through the TikToksphere for years. Doolan argues that the current anti-fashion movement came directly after a period of hyper-perfection, and Instagram homogeneity. “I think people just got bored of the typical mainstream; of influencers and the very specific types of clothing they were wearing.” And, indeed, TikTok now offers a rich seam of content dedicated to mocking the fashions and beauty trends of that long ago era: 2016. It’s an expression of rebellion from a generation who may not have been old enough to buy their own clothes in 2016.
Ill-fitting, androgynous or just plain unconventional looks became a way to show individuality on the one hand and a rebellion against the endless churn of trends on the other. It wasn’t $10,000 shoes (à la Fecal Matter’s Skin Shoes) that TikTokkers were showcasing — it was hand-me-downs and thrifted items.
The rise of apps like Depop meant those thrifted pieces were easier to get hold of. Finn Thomas is a seller on the platform. He says he’s often taken aback by his Depop store’s most popular items — objectively hideous pieces which sell at lightning speed. “I’ve definitely seen a rise in people wanting things like Nineties wraparound sunglasses — things my dad hates,” he laughs. Thomas’s most coveted items, though, are oversized military cargo pants from the US, circa-some point in the Nineties. Puffy, and cut so big that they swamp the wearer, they’re the height of anti-fashion and have even been sported by Bella Hadid. “There’s only me and one other guy that sells them, and once she wore a pair from his store both our accounts blew up,” Finn says. He says customers regularly size up the “already extremely baggy” trousers to an XXL. “It’s things that are ugly but also practical that tend to do best,” he explains.
Ugly fashion can be adopted by fashion houses but anti-fashion is more of a personal stamp on getting dressed
Arguably, as this has filtered onto the runways, it has lost some of its bite (after all, by the time Balenciaga is charging £1,350 for a ripped and grotesquely oversized hoodie, it hardly feels like a statement of rebellion). Here, though, Kirkum offers a useful distinction: “‘ugly’ fashion can be adopted by fashion houses [but] ‘Anti-fashion’ is more of a personal stamp on getting dressed. It is using clothes, often thrifted, as a statement against the way that the fashion world turns. For me anti-fashion has more of an ecological, personal and political point of view, whereas ugly fashion is a bit more of a surface level trend.”
Bowen agrees, saying that at its core “anti-fashion is a rejection of the unethical standards and mainstream conventions long associated with fast fashion and couture power houses.”
Ultimately, these are two strands of the same wider movement in which a new generation is pushing against the confines of “taste”.
Anti-fashion and “ugly” looks have been a breath of fresh air for the fashion world — what happens now that they’re mainstream is anyone’s guess.
Additional reporting by Maddy Mussen
