Already a few months since the initial coronavirus outbreak, it seems that the world has unwittingly come to accept the act of social distancing as a way to alleviate the anxiety that this mysterious illness has wrought upon our world, encouraging isolation for our own self-protection and security.
With this virus comes the reappearance of the surgical mask—a highly publicized remnant from the 2003 SARS epidemic— and an accessory which has since gone on to become a visual emblem of global panic and safety, forcing people to stay away from each other in order to mitigate the increasing pandemic.
A few weeks prior to London’s official lockdown, I experienced a unique situation while stepping out of my flat to purchase groceries in preparation for our impending quarantine. In lieu of a surgical mask (which I’ve since acquired due to persistent text messages from my mother), I proceeded to wrap my neck and face in a black cashmere scarf—borrowed from a friend—arming myself with an emotional assurance that such a thin piece of material would protect me from the virus. Traversing the streets to my local Waitrose, I felt the opposite effect. Ironically, in an effort to conceal myself from the outside elements, I felt as if I had become a walking posterchild for the virus itself, giving into the media hype that has (rightfully) terrorized us all to the point where we jump out of our seats or squirm when we hear or witness someone cough or sneeze.
Fashion has always been forward-thinking, anticipating what the future landscape will look like beyond the present. In this period of social distancing, it’s interesting to look back to fashion seasons past and their use of masks, inherently exuding a general sense of armor, distance, and covering up. Masks have graced the runways of the likes of Area, Erdem, Giambattista Valli, Maison Margiela, Marine Serre, Richard Quinn, and Valentino, usually combined with larger-than-life, maximalist silhouettes.
Backstage at Erdem FW18. (Photo: theimpression.com)
According to recent news coverage of the Coronavirus, there is ironically little evidence to suggest that surgical masks are able to protect the wearer from the virus. Rather, some psychotherapists note that masks are merely a way of maintaining one’s mental health rather than physical wellbeing, providing a safeguard to alleviate our fear of the unknown, general anxiety, as well as our struggles with the illusion of control. We are also more prone to wear such accessories due to our inclinations to give into herd mentality (which is probably the reason as to why we may’ve seen so many copycat luxury designer masks via Instagram or Tik Tok).
Perhaps this way of thinking contributes to fashion’s intrinsic value and worth, formed through our unique attachments to specific items of clothing that satisfy our human need to either create distance or draw others in. Thinking back to my friend’s borrowed scarf—although it has little functional value—somehow, when wrapped around my face, it felt like my own personal Coronavirus safety blanket.
In this seemingly never-ending physical distancing period, we’re all thinking of who we want to be, and what we want to wear, once Coronavirus is over. When the majority of us in the world have zero clue of what tomorrow will bring (or for how long we will continue to live in this a secluded existence), it seems that we search for clothing—a mask, for example—which can bring, at least, some illusion of control over our present fears as well as the crazed ambiguity which seems to describe our foreseeable futures. Sometimes we all need distance—if not for health reasons—simply for perspective, and energetic preservation. Once it’s all over, this new awareness around the overlap between clothing’s physical and psychological functions can be useful when wanting to take step back from others. Even if just for a day.
In the world of post-pandemic dressing, one word has taken social media by storm: cheugy (pronounced: chew-gee). In the worlds of fashion and lifestyle, cheugy describes a look, a thing or a person that’s considered out of date.