What happens when a major fashion magazine's puff piece on the wife of a dictator is made embarrassing by current events? Simple: pull the article and pretend it never happened. The article is quite embarrassing, and even the author "said it was “horrifying” to have been near the Assads". Why did the article appear in Vogue, then? It's easy to say that the fashion world is disconnected from reality, but there is more to it than that. The Atlantic hints at the real problem: The fashion world is elitist, but there is something else: its entire preoccupation is aesthetic, and no political movement has been more preoccupied with elitist aesthetics than fascism. It's made obvious every time a John Galliano opens his mouth about Hitler, but if fashion now appears so grotesque, it is because fascism is no longer the radical new option for the future as it used to be portrayed, but the epitome of decadence. In the absence of self-confessed fascist leaders, the fashion world is drawn to the expression of raw power, of which Syria is but one example.
Interesting theory, but what actual fashion is inspired by Syria, or other examples of "raw power"? It seems a bit trite to say that since some fashion icons had fascist sympathies (as did many types of people), and since one fashion magazine had an article about a dictator's wife, therefore all of fashion must be a celebration of raw power. And there is a ton of inspiration for fashion (like any art) so it seems silly and totalizing to say it must all be about and inspired by the same thing. So I don't buy it without more of an argument.
I know that any explanation I might give won't be entirely satisfactory, because I'm not accusing the fashion world of being explicitly fascist, and any anecdotal evidence I might bring up (like Coco Chanel, or how about Hugo Boss?). (I will also mention that I associate the higher end of automobile racing to fascism, and I'm not alone, without needing to point at anecdotal evidence like "Max Mosley, son of Oswald".) I think this New York Times article gets as close as it is possible to being convincing: In a way, the ridiculous aspect of fashion goes back to the old story of the emperor's new clothes, where what postponed the exposure of the hoax was fear of repression, and the lesson was there: the only people who can benefit from fashion at its most ridiculous are people who not only have a need to be seen to be above their betters but, paradoxically, can do so with all impunity. A democratically elected politician's wife could not wear that; it would appear decadent. The middle class, if it could afford it in the first place, also would not dare wear the more outlandish stuff, precisely because appearances matter. In other words, you're left with the proverbial 1% and the people who represent the pinnacle of impunity: the dictator. So you get Imelda Marcos' shoe collection and Asma al-Assad' loving profile. In her case, it's not only because of her position, but of her looks; if she had been a dead ringer for Eleanor Roosevelt, I think Vogue would have passed.
What 'postponed the exposure of the hoax' in The Emperor's New Clothes wasn't a fear of repression. The weavers told the Emperor that the material was invisible to anyone who was stupid; no one wanted to appear to be stupid so everyone pretended that they could see the clothes, including the Emperor. I don't recall the Emperor as written by Anderson having any other vices, though it's possible that he was given a brutal streak in later versions of the tale. The story was written as a criticism of vanity and, I suppose, cravenness, not as a political treatise or a discourse on the fashion industry's love-affair with military imagography and controversy. The military aesthetic arguably reached its nadir when Hugo Boss was asked to design outfits uniforms for the SS; hence, shallow morons in the fashion industry (and, it has to be said, further afield) dallying with fascist imagery.
As an aside, I don't find the fact that Coco Chanel and Hugo Boss had Nazi sympathies useful as a critique of fashion more generally. There were people in every art and industry that had Nazi sympathies, but I don't think this contaminates those arts or industries as essentially fascist. Ezra Pound doesn't make poetry essentially fascist, Rudolf von Laban does not make dance essentially fascist, and so on. I don't really find that convincing at all. Part of what is missing is a description of what the fascist ideals of physical appearance actually were, and whether these are the same as high fashion standards. I don't know, but I don't think they are the same. The Nazi physical standard was for men to be large, rugged, and outdoors-y - essentially suited for war. I don't think this is the same aesthetic that prevails in men's fashion. The main standard for women was to be fertile and raise children, again a standard that seems pretty different from that of the runway model. But many of the organizations and people you and the NYT have labelled fascist do make clothes that appeal to the middle class: Hugo Boss, Chanel, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein. These are not clothes that would look ridiculous on the average person. They are very upscale versions of fairly traditional designs. Nor are they utterly out of reach of all but the most upper class. For example, Hugo Boss suit costs around $800 which is expensive but not prohibitively so, if that's what you're into. It doesn't require a six-figure salary, and it is certainly not limited to the 1%. I think this gets closer to the heart of it. Vogue is a magazine about wealth, glamour, and beauty. Asam al-Assad is rich, glamorous, and beautiful. That's really all there is to it, in my opinion.
