The Devil Wears TikTok · Kate Crawley

The Devil Wears TikTok:

Are we cancelling couture?

Written by Kate Crawley · Artwork by Sophie Hoet

At the turn of the twentieth century, trending fashion was a novelty for the elite: however, this was about to change when, in 1943, the first ever New York Fashion Week was held. Although initially an event for the wealthy to buy the latest Parisian styles during the Second World War, Fashion Week prevailed, earning prestige as the centre of the fashion world. Today, Fashion Week is a bi-annual event in New York, London, Milan, and Paris, unveiling designers’ latest collections on the runway. On the catwalk we see, or rather the media informs us of, the groundbreaking capabilities of clothing; even those who would consider themselves disconnected from this world of couture might have seen Coperni’s spray-on dress on Bella Hadid in Paris this year.

Those who are very much immersed in these runways are high street fashion retailers. They watch, hawklike, ready to implement the latest trends in their coming lines. With the arrival of fashion week, emerging trends became accessible to the average consumer. The industry is inherently hierarchical as couture sets trends to trickle down the ranks, eventually reaching the everyday consumer. As Meryl Streep tells an oblivious Anne Hathaway in the 2006 blockbuster The Devil Wears Prada: “It’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry, when in fact, it was selected for you by the people in this room from a pile of ‘stuff’.” As trends fall into the hands of the masses, the runway promptly remodels itself.

In 2005, Topshop disrupted this hierarchy. Staging a show at London Fashion Week, the high street retailer infiltrated the world of high fashion, elbowing their way into that room. The exclusivity of the couture runway was shaken. However, whilst demonstrating the industry to be penetrable, Topshop’s catwalk reinforced Fashion Week as the pinnacle of the industry; ‘real fashion’ remained on the runway. year, divided into spring/summer and autumn/ winter, no longer cut it, as high street retailers produced more and more sub-seasonal lines; with the more lines they dropped, the quicker clothing became dated. The prolific rise of TikTok has exacerbated this trend beyond belief. As the most downloaded app of all time, it is difficult to underestimate the impact of the social media platform. TikTok has revolutionised social media through its revolutionary algorithm and advanced app design, forcing its user to engage with every single post. TikToks weasel their way onto other major platforms in an unreciprocated manner; you rarely see tweets on TikTok for instance. Whilst we roll our eyes at Instagram reels or YouTube shorts, it is impossible to miss how great a threat TikTok poses to these pre-established giants.

It is no secret that since the nineties consumerism ballooned. We wanted faster fashion. The bi-seasonal

The app is so addictive in its ability to continually offer new content to the user, or at least content that feels new. Trends typically cycle through the app in a matter of days. Whilst on the runway styles are set years in advance, fashion appears and is forgotten within a week on TikTok. Hence, high street retailers find themselves at a crossroads: to watch the runways or to frantically follow what’s trending online.

Retailer Zara has made their bed. With the process from the design stage to the shop floor taking ten to fifteen days, the company has broken from the world of high fashion to keep up instead with the relentless pace of the internet.The impacts, particularly in places where these garments are produced in dire working conditions and later received as landfill, are environmentally and socially catastrophic. How, however, does this shift in the structure of the trend cycle alter who is setting those trends?

TikTok is free to any user with a smartphone. Whilst not suggesting that TikTok trends have the same artistic ingenuity of the runway, the app demonstrates another form of creativity. Most content on its platform is created for free for an anonymous audience. With an algorithm that enables anyone to go viral, anyone can start a trend. If TikTok is controlling high street retailers, the voice of the consumer, or the TikTok user perhaps, suddenly becomes instrumental in the formation of trends. No longer does fashion emerge solely on the runway.

The rise and prevailing popularity of the mullet, for instance, could demonstrate the consumer’s increasing rebellion against ‘what’s in Vogue.’ Similarly, the popularity of second-hand shopping on the app instigates a new form of consumerism; the desire for non-replicable clothing, the desire to be different through a recognised and ‘trendy’ medium, breaks away from the authoritative voices of high fashion. The consumer still wants ‘on-trend’ clothing, however, the influence of TikTok in setting those trends disrupts the traditional authority of the high fashion industry.

As an app, TikTok promotes both the fastest fast fashion ever seen and sustainable consumerism. It is revolutionary in the potential it offers anyone to start a trend. Where Topshop pushed their way into ‘the room,’ TikTok negates the need for that room altogether.