The Fashion Clause

Tag: blog

  • Recession Core

    Recession Core

    How Polka Dots affect the economy.

    The Clean Girl Aesthetic. Neutral colors. Business casual. Quiet Luxury. Skinny Scarves. All of these, and many more, have recently joined the latest TikTok trend: recession indicators. 

    The term “recession core” has gone viral on TikTok, with influencers wondering if polka dots and skinny scarves are indicators of an upcoming financial crisis. (Skinny scarves were popular during the 2008 recession, and their recent uptake in popularity is creating questions about relations between the two.) 

    There are lots of theories about how the economy drives fashion. Some theories say that shorter skirt hemlines symbolize times of stability, like flapper dresses in the “Roaring Twenties”, while longer skirts grow popular in times of distress, like in the Great Depression. Fashion supposedly grows less flamboyant when money is tight. 

    Bright colors, flashy logos, and risky silhouettes are swapped for button-downs, blazers, and neutral colors. Big logos can even seem gaudy when so many people are struggling to make ends meet.

    One of the most popular examples of this is called The Lipstick Theory. The idea behind this is that people prioritize small luxuries. In times of crises, big money expenses are unimaginable. Why would anyone drop thousands on a bag when they are struggling to put food on the table? People would rather gift themselves smaller items – like lipstick. It’s an affordable luxury.

    These patterns have been observed countless times. The most recent was in the 2008 recession, when fashion was the epitome of business casual. Clothing was functional for both the office and the club. Blazers, ties, and button-down shirts were commonly layered on top of jeans and mini skirts.  

    Nearly two decades later, in March, 2025, Stella McCartney released a new collection along the same lines. She called it From laptop to lapdance. The title itself is an eery repetition of the early two thousands. It was a series of blazers and low cut suits. If they hadn’t known, someone could’ve assumed this collection was from 2008.

     After 2008, fashion experienced a surge of maximalism, peaking right before Covid. Clothes were overwhelmingly bright and colorful, and the goal was to stack as much jewelry as possible. Then came the Clean Girl Aesthetic. Fashion became minimalistic and quiet. Slick back buns, neutral colors, and multi-use shoes were all the rage on social media. 

    There was a shift in mindset where people were trying to hide their effort. Instead of experimenting with style, colors, and shapes to stand out, everyone was trying to look like the ultimate clean girl – or in other words, trying to look the same. 

    This sameness is reaching new heights, fueled through social media. The products influencers are paid to push are suddenly selling out everywhere. Basic outfits from celebrities like Hailey Bieber and Kendell Jenner, as well as celebrities from the early two 2000s, like Kate Moss, are now the epitome of cool. There was a recent outcry when people were racing to find the perfect Jendell Jenner tank top – a basic white top from H&M. There are aisles in makeup stores set aside for the TikTok famous products. Why? Because everyone wants to be like the influencers, and as a result, everyone is in a race to become the same. 

    More dangerously, the trend of following influencers has contributed to the rise of “SkinnyTok.” Before COVID, there was a rise in inclusivity, with more plus-size bodies shown in the media than ever before. Recently, potentially due to the “perfect” bodies seen online, there is once again an unhealthy emphasis on being thin. This echoes trends from 2008, and it’s frightening to think society may be regressing. However, because this time the pressure comes from actual people in the form of influencers—instead of big brands—the impact is more deeply embedded in the minds of consumers. The rise of “SkinnyTok” and minimalism reflect how society is is pushing values tied to self-restraint and conformity through fashion.

    Fashion is a form of art, and like all art, it reflects our reality. The fashion within the recession core might be doing just that. Whether it’s a genuine response to economic uncertainty or just another internet trend, the rise of minimalism and subtlety reveal the underlying anxiety within society. In times of uncertainty, blending in can feel more comfortable. However, this could lead to a decline in personal identity and diversity. 

  • Runway Revolution: Charro Roots and Corset Suits

    Runway Revolution: Charro Roots and Corset Suits

    New York Fashion Week. The streets are bustling with extravagant outfits and eager designers. Down in the Public Hotel, an exclusive show is just beginning. The audience is seated directly on either side of the runway, enraptured as model after model struts down the stage, wearing the distinctive pieces of Patricio Campillo. His designs are built off of one particular Charro suit, handed down from his grandfather, then to his father, and finally to Campillo himself. He has transformed it; the pants have turned into elegant, flowy skirts, and the blazer into long, draping cloaks. His aim in this suit, along with much of his collection, is to preserve his Mexican culture, while incorporating his own progressive style, and giving a voice to queer design.

    Campillo grew up around the Charro culture of traditional Mexican horsemen.. He was riding horses by age three, and got his first Charro suit at five. Decades later, Campillo felt that Charro culture was being left behind and wanted to keep the beauty of the artisanal tradition and craftsmanship alive.

    While Campillo pays tribute to his heritage, he acknowledges the flaws within the strict traditions of the Charro culture, mainly the homophobia. Growing up as a queer boy, he never felt completely comfortable with expressing himself. As a designer, he wanted not just to amplify the Charro culture, but redefine it – displaying  the beauty of his heritage while also battling its homophobia. This led him to his suits – designs that challenge traditional gender norms and clothing rules. By adding feminine touches to the masculine garments of his heritage, like using corsets to accentuate silhouettes, or changing trousers to skirts, Campillo is redefining traditional menswear – blurring the lines of traditional clothing, and creating something new and fluid.  

    The effect is almost surreal. And in fact, Campillo drew inspiration from Remedio Varos, a Spanish Mexican surrealist painter who uses dreamlike images to convey complex emotional states. Campillo was drawn to her supernatural aesthetics, particularly the way she dresses the witches and wizards in her paintings, which inspired the layered textures and fluid silhouettes in his dreamlike version of the charro suit. 

    Before Campillo started designing, he began a career in politics, but he hated it. He had always loved fashion, and the world he found in magazines like Love Magazine, Purple, i-D, Self Service, and Garage  His boss eventually fired him, perhaps because he didn’t want to pay Campillo  to read magazines all day. This was the kick the designer needed to follow his dreams. He went into journalism and moved to Paris where he became an assistant to Tiffany Godoy, the editor of The Reality Show Magazine. There Campillo  got the opportunity to go to re-sees. He’d spend hours examining the designs, which is how he learned about clothing and realized he wanted to be a designer.
    Although Campillo never underwent any formal training, he moved back to Mexico and created his own brand in 2017. 

    By 2024, he was a semifinalist for the LVMH Prize and later that year he got the chance to have a show at his first ever New York Fashion Week. 

    One year later, Campillo has emerged as a designer who sees fashion as more than just clothes; he sees it as a form of communication. His goal has always been to break away from the traditional rules, blending personal identity with political expression, using bold T-shirts, powerful statements, and culturally-rooted designs to speak out. “Inclusivity is one of the most important tools to allow tradition to remain relevant,” Campillo said. 

    When the last model steps off the runway at his second ever show, Campillo appears, jogging into the spotlight. Emblazoned on his shirt are the words “Golfo de Mexico”. The phrase, an allusion to Trump’s threats to rename the gulf, was an example of what Campillo is always doing in his work—how his clothing is at once an expression of his Mexican heritage and a form of political protest. He is a perfect example of how fashion and politics meet, not quietly, but in loud, unapologetic ways that demand to be seen and heard.