We’re roughly one month away from the end of a decade, wrapping up the oddly sounding “10s”, and entering the new "20s”. And while it’s trite to say ‘wow, what a decade it’s been’, wow - what a decade it’s been. But truly, the rate of technological innovation these past ten years changed fashion from the inside out. In 2010, old-guard fashion editors were the gatekeepers of the industry, only to be overtaken by the first generation of fashion bloggers, and then a number of scrappy publications and upstarts that followed. In 2010, fashion was young, thin, and white. Now, upholding diversity is a key value. In 2010, the fashion hierarchy was intact, and abuse was rampant. Now, while abuse in the fashion industry has not been eradicated, in a post #MeToo world, survivors have platforms to tell their stories and avenues for strength in community. In 2010, sustainable fashion was reserved for hemp tees at your local health store. Now, sustainability is a core ethos of an increasing number of mainstream brands.
Coincidentally, I began my fashion career in 2010. Back then, it never occurred to me to combine fashion with psychology. I just wanted to be in the industry. But through the decade, I was frustrated by shallow, repetitive, generalized content, and was wondering why no one was exploring why we wear what we wear. I didn’t have much encouragement. A street style photographer I’d sometimes have a coffee with during fashion week advised me that no one cares about the psychology of fashion. Fashion is just fun, he said. Frivolous. Except it’s not. It’s a trillion dollar industry because the ability of clothes to transform, align, and inspire us. While the fashion psychology field is in its infancy, I hope that in 2020 and beyond, we take the conversation around why clothes matter further. And there’s no better way to start than a recap of the most influential brands, designers, and aesthetic shifts of the last 10 years. (And of course, why.)
Phoebe Philo’s Céline
The collections under Phoebe Philo (2008-2017) at French luxury house Céline spawned nothing short of a movement. The antithetical debut collection of her successor Hedi Slimane sparked an outrage.
WHY: The definition of femininity and sense of womanhood greatly evolved in the ‘10s, and Philo’s designs embodied that evolution in sartorial form. Forget bandage dresses – we can now be a cooler and nonchalantly pretty.
Tough Luxe at Valentino and Alexander McQueen
Nothing defined the decade quite like Valentino Rockstuds, which launched in 2010 and sparked the celebrity-status of its creators, newly appointed directors Pierpaolo Piccioli and Maria Grazia Chiuri. A darkly romantic vibe was also prevalent at Alexander McQueen (whose eponymous founder passed away, also in 2010, but his successor Sarah Burton carried on his direction with spiky belts and four-finger skull clutches worn with lace and tulle.
WHY: This change around what it means to be feminine, and an exploration on the part of many women to deal with the rich contrasts in their personalities, was reflected in the mixing of opposing aesthetics.
Riccardo Tisci’s Givenchy
From shark-lock boots to Rottweiler motif sweaters, Riccardo Tisci’s had many hits during the 10s with his street-tinged avant-garde couture.
WHY: In line with the aforementioned cultural shifts, Tisci also knew how to bring just the right level of fierceness to eveningwear, and also was able to tap into nostalgia and meaningful references for millennials, I.E. Bambi.
Athleisure & Luxury Sportswear
Athleisure, and its cousin Streetwear, were everywhere. From the status of Supreme the normalization of leggings as pants, casual was king.
WHY: We’ve become obsessed with health, fitness, and wellness. (Try to go back to pre-2010 and find a ginger shot.) Naturally, anything alluding to ‘I work out’ conveys status, while being comfortable, youthful and a little bit gangsta gives you street-cred. Everyone likes a hint of notoriety.
Hipster & Normcore
We’re grouping hipster and normcore sensibilities together because there are many overlaps, and because they tend to share the same epicentres, such as Brooklyn, Portland, Helsinki, and Hackney. Flannel, skinny jeans, then mom and dad jeans, old suede boots, big glasses and hats of any kind were key.
WHY: In regards to the mom and dad jeans, the trend came about because the millennial generation began to delay becoming actual moms and dads. We’re having children later and later in life, and this trend is a lot easier to wear ironically if you’re not an actual parent. Hipster fashion has always been about being anti-mainstream.
Latin Romanticism
The 10s really allowed Latin America to share its many artistic gifts with the world. One of those gifts was Colombian designer Johanna Ortiz, whose decadently exuberant collections never miss a beat.
WHY: The feminist political mood in the West, and the lack of romance in a Tinder world, didn’t leave us with much room for sentiment. Ruffles, tiers, and off-the-shoulder details managed to deliver it while allowing us to maintain a don’t-mess-with-me air.
1990s Revival
Crop tops, slip dresses, biker shorts and panels of highlighter hues have also been a key trend towards the later end of the decade. Especially on the leaders of Instagram.
WHY: Millennials and older Gen-Zers are a highly nostalgic cohort, being able to remember life before the digital takeover. Nineties pieces remind us of the wholesomeness and simpler ways of that time.
Irony & Subversion
Vetements, led by Demna Gvasalia, was a masterclass in exploring the meaning behind consumption, culture and identity in this new digital landscape. We could finally subvert the superficial values of our parents. Sock boots with lighters as heels? Not your mother’s Stuart Weitzmans.
WHY: Third-culture kids like Gvasalia, who immigrated to other countries (he left war-torn Georgia for Germany as a kid, and is now based in Switzerland) saw consumption and luxury through a unique lens growing up, and as adults felt the need to turn its meaning on its head. It resonated with people, who started to take fashion less seriously, and were looking for a way to be flippant.
Bigger Dresses
We’re still in the thick of the oversize dress trend (long may it live) led by emerging brands such as Cecilie Bahnsen, Batsheva, and Molly Goddard.
WHY: One key factor is body anxiety. In the age of Instagram and fitness obsession, it’s not enough to have a good body, you seemingly need a very good body. Many of us have adopted a collective body dysmorphia, feeling not up to par, and wanting to feel smaller. Unlike a tighter dress which reveals every curve, a delightfully oversize dress achieves this by letting us hide, and therefore letting us be.
Smaller Bags
While Jacquemus has been doling out the crazy-little bags of late, there has been a trend towards smaller in general this decade at large. While in the noughties, it was perfectly fine to carry an overfull tote bag brimming with stuff, bags have begun to act as adornments more than ever, and functionality is ignored.
WHY: We’re living in the attention economy. People like Kylie Jenner have demonstrated this to the tune of over a $1 billion. Mini bags – anything out of the ordinary – exist to capture attention on Instagram.
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.