From the mannequins of the 1950s to the supermodels of the 1990s: fashion constantly reinvented its icons. Today their names are Shudu, Imma, and Lil Miquela – avatars instead of humans.
The Discipline of Elegance
In the 1950s, models were still called mannequins. They were the silent bearers of bourgeois elegance, discipline, and restraint. There was no cult of stardom, no excesses – fashion was defined by decency, not individuality. The women lent only their bodies to the clothes, to present them perfectly. It was an aesthetic of order: the focus was on the dress, not the woman wearing it. Whoever appeared in front of the camera was interchangeable – what mattered was flawless staging.
The Birth of Icons
The 1980s and 1990s brought a great upheaval: Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell, and Linda Evangelista – in short: the supermodels – became brands in their own right. They graced magazine covers, walked for luxury labels, and shaped an entire decade. Photographers like Peter Lindbergh or Steven Meisel turned them into icons that were bigger than the fashion they wore. Their names became global symbols, and their faces were as well known as the logos of the great fashion houses, which seemed like extras by comparison.
The Illusion of the Authentic
But after the peak came disillusionment. Campaigns like those by Dove promised “real beauty”: models with flaws, wrinkles, and imperfect proportions. For a moment, it seemed as if authenticity could conquer the market. But the magic didn’t last long. The audience applauded the slogans but ultimately still bought perfection. Honest skin sold worse than the dream. Thus, authenticity became a pose: calculated, staged, and in the end just as interchangeable as what it sought to overcome.
From Stars to Simulations
As the fashion icons of the past faded, they were replaced by Hollywood’s illusion. Nicole Kidman became the face of Chanel, and Brad Pitt the testimonial for Chanel No. 5. The boundaries between acting, advertising, and fashion blurred more and more. But that too was only an interlude. The new “supermodels” are no longer Tatjana Patitz or Markus Schenkenberg, but Lil Miquela, Shudu, or Imma. They are avatars, digitally created – flawless but soulless. The glamour of the past is increasingly turning into calculated code.
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