Throughout high school, I had an entire Pinterest board dedicated to my favorite red carpet looks. I grew up watching awards shows and Met Gala coverage even before I knew what the actual purpose of the events were, because there was a much more important topic at hand– what will everyone be wearing?
Recently, though, I’ve noticed a growing pattern. It feels like nowadays, when I open up articles or socials to read up on what everyone’s wearing, it’s never just what they are wearing – it’s who wore it first. Kim Kardashian is wearing (and destroying) Marilyn Monroe’s dress. Madison Beer is wearing Beyoncé’s. If not directly recycled, then the fits are clearly “inspired.” This look is “inspired” by [insert golden-age icon here]. It “pays tribute to” [insert late-90s pop artist name]. It’s always the same words, over and over: inspired, vintage, homage, tribute, nostalgia. Marilyn Monroe. Priscilla Presley. Britney Spears. Audrey Hepburn.
Today, art is obsessed with nostalgia. It’s the TikTok term “reheating nachos,” if you will (which I never will, again). Every movie is a remake. Every show is being renewed, some even mere years after their final episodes aired. And, now? Every dress has been worn before.
When we think about celebrities whose styles took off, or red carpet moments that we will never forget, the general rule is that there was something distinct. For personal style to become notable, it has to be different. You can be the best dressed celebrity in the world, sure, but what are you known for? Audrey Hepburn was chic and classy, while Marilyn Monroe was sexy and playful. Lady Gaga became everyone’s favorite topic of conversation throughout the 2010s for being avant-garde, and pushing boundaries beyond what anyone expected. If it doesn’t have a reason to be interesting, well then, we’re not remembering it.
The thing is, a hack has been discovered– instead of creating something new, something wow, something we will remember for years to come the way we remember Lady Gaga’s meat dress or Rihanna’s any-red-carpet-look, we can just replicate a familiar moment and hope to elicit the same results.
Taste is subjective, and some risks do not pay off for everybody. That’s part of the game. Yet, when replicating earlier successes, these once-risks have already been approved. I feel that the risk is therefore mitigated, and you have the added asset of nostalgia on your side. You create the short-term benefit of lots of conversation. But something can only be so cool, so interesting, when we’ve already seen it before.
In the age of fast fashion and ridiculous amounts of clothing waste, I also really quickly have to mention that this argument exists somewhat in the microcosm of red carpets. In the context of everyday wear, I encourage people to buy and produce less, focusing on what will last and be sustainable for repeated use. The thing that makes red carpets so special is that it’s not about how much of something can be made and how quickly. Instead, hours and days are invested into creating a wearable piece of art that is, hopefully, uniquely tailored to the wearer and the statement they wish to make. Many looks then are displayed in museums or collections, reminding us of the beauty and magic that designers as artists are capable of. They are printed in books that explain the legacy and significance within the context of our world at that moment. So yes, this argument is far different from justifying another black going out top from SHEIN that is going to end up in a landfill.
I also think that it is important to note that, in changing times, certain forms of “homage” can be insensitive, or even border on offensive. Sabrina Carpenter is an artist who loves a good fashion reference, previously paying tribute to fashion icons such as Fran Drescher. However, Carpenter has recently drawn controversy for a photoshoot that looked suspiciously reminiscent – pretty directly reminiscent, if you ask me – of a scene in the controversial 1997 film adaptation of Lolita. Carpenter has also, in recent years, recreated a look worn by French actress Brigette Bardot, who during her lifetime was convicted five times by the French government for inciting racist hatred – all which came before Carpenter’s recreation of the look in 2021. There’s a lot of inspiration that can be drawn from the past, but the context of the figures and periods from which the good came should also be put in perspective if deciding whether to reference.
I do feel differently about this topic when there is clear reasoning and inspiration. A tribute is just that, a dedication to something impactful that came before. It’s a show of respect, especially in the arts, where nearly everything is somewhat a build off of what came before. It makes more sense to reference a historical piece at the Met Gala, for example, where the themes revolve around the history, and the different eras, of fashion.
But, to me, it feels like the lines are becoming blurred between the resurgence of eras and complete mimicry. There are many works or looks I love dearly, but I don’t necessarily want more of that very thing. I want something new that makes me feel the same way again. I just feel like we’re in an age of being afraid– afraid to try things that are new, things that are truly out there and push boundaries. We’re afraid of taking the same kind of risks that resulted in the things you’re worshipping today. I feel that we’re choosing the safer benefits of a reference people will know and love over the uncertainty of something new. This fear limits creativity and suppresses new messages and movements from being communicated through taking new risks.
So yes, we can always love and remember pieces of pop culture’s past. But I just want to remind everyone that we can make new things, too. There have been some great fashion moments in the last decade or so, don’t get me wrong– but I want more. I want iconic, not just cute, and I don’t want us backsliding into safer territories just because Twitter (X, I guess) might not like what you have to say. There’s only so many semi-sheer white dresses I can keep tolerating– if it wouldn’t be recognizable as a Halloween costume, then keep going.
I think when you care enough about an art form, whether it be fashion, or extending to film, television, and beyond, you want it to grow. You want to challenge it. Innovation and boundary-pushing are the foundation of the arts, so really, under no circumstances should I be bored. We say we want to honor the work of those artists that came before, but what better way is there to honor that craftsmanship than with a new labor of love? Wouldn’t you want to make them proud, or make them say wow, instead of making their own work over and over and over again? References can be cute, but wouldn’t it be cooler to be the one they all want to reference?
Because, in conclusion, I just really, really don’t want to be bored anymore.