Kids These Days: New York Fashion Week in the Age of Social Media

Last Sunday, the corner block occupied by the Park Avenue Armory on the Upper East Side of Manhattan was covered with people corralled in by a line of black, tinted-windowed SUVs parked on either side. It was a quarter past 9 p.m., and le grand retour of Rihanna’s Fenty x Puma show to New York Fashion Week, after two seasons in Paris, was about to go live beyond the historic building’s medieval brick façade. The people clamoring on the street were the rabid, mostly teenaged fans who came to crash the party.

“We were really trying to look for this place. I was DMing people like crazy because we didn’t know where it was,” said C.J. Gainer, a freshman drama student at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. He and his friend from high school Brittany Isaac just moved to the city from the suburb of Riverside, California, where they admittedly participated in some “crazy fan” outings, such as camping out at Comic-Con until two in the morning.

C.J. donned a sporty chic mix of trends: a mid-length tweed coat over a blue Champions hoodie, baggy white linen trousers, and black platform sneakers by Fenty x Puma, in support of his idol and the occasion. His partner in crime wore a bespoke Halloween orange two-piece hoodie and skirt outfit, which she crafted specifically for the event out of a single garment from Forever 21. They imagined dressing up would increase their chances of getting into the show.

In attempt to find the undisclosed, low-key location of Rihanna’s Spring 2018 show, C.J. scavenged Twitter and Instagram for hours. He posted an Instagram Story video of himself desperately asking the collective power of the internet to answer his plea. The video story gained traction, showing up as a top result in the #FentyxPuma search on the social media platform, which prompted others in his position to begin messaging him in mutual misery. Before he knew it, he arrived here, separated by mere meters and a wall from BadGalRiRi herself.

“Fashion’s become like social media. Fashion’s become the hype. There’s still attention to the actual clothes, but clothes without hype are just pieces of fabric,” added Cameron Jarrett, another young excited Rihanna fan draped in a crimson silk pajama set over a simple white t-shirt and various gold accoutrements in the form of rings and necklaces.

They described the personality of Rihanna’s line as “glamorous,” “edgy,” and “streetwear with a twist.” This latter descriptor points to a trend in New York’s fashion week, which once demanded three-piece suits for men, and is now dominated by Nylon-style streetwear fashionistas.

“It used to be more exclusive,” said Carlos Lacayo, an editorial manager for a PR firm in the industry. This was Lacayo’s seventh NYFW, and he was wearing an outfit he laconically stated was his “fourth option” for the day. The casual ensemble of a basic gray V-neck, cuffed ripped jeans, black Nike Roshe sneakers, and a combination wool and cashmere scarf with faux fur trim, for an accent, was not something he could have worn during the week just three or four years ago. “Before I would have to be decked out, my shoes would have to be shiny, I couldn’t wear sneakers, I couldn’t wear jeans. Now it’s kind of like, ‘eh, you know, wear what you want, express yourself.’”

He attributed the loosening up of the dress code to be part of a general shift in attitudes and interests at NYFW, alluding to “a divide of the younger generation.”

The predominant trend of streetwear has descended upon New York simultaneously with the democratization of access to hitherto exclusive cultural events, as NYFW once was, provided by social media. Lacayo cited Vogue’s Runway app, which gives unprecedented access to the shows, allowing people globally to stream them directly on their devices.

The increased accessibility to these shows has affected the landscape of NYFW’s designers as well as its audience. Several American fashion brands, including Proenza Schouler and Rodarte, have decamped to Paris, where exclusivity and reverence for high art in fashion still is at a “top-notch” level, as Lacayo’s colleague Nicole Clarke said. The exodus of some big-name designers seems to have geared New York towards a more inclusive approach to its fashion week, hosting more pop-up shops and dispersing shows throughout the city.

“That’s what’s really cool about this. This is all ready-to-wear. Everything you see here is going to be sold in stores,” cheerfully noted C.J. back on Park Avenue, as he watched the show’s live feed on Instagram outside the venue. When asked about his thoughts on high fashion, he replied that it “is great and is cool, but has a snooty quality to it” that reads to him as, “‘we’re just here to make art for you to look at and leave.’”

Rihanna’s brand seems to have concocted the perfect formula of streetwear fashion, accessibility, and celebrity to appeal to this social media generation. C.J. unequivocally believes that with the international pop star’s blessing on a brewing trend like motocross, “it’s going to blow up, like most definitely.”

As an industry professional, Lacayo can respect what she has done for fashion and the attention she brings to it. He recognizes her Herculean captivation of her youth following who think, “‘oh, if Rihanna’s wearing it, I want to wear it too!’ You know that whole idolization…” he trailed off. 

“There she is – QUEEN!” exclaimed C.J. as Rihanna glided out on the back of a motorcycle past the pink sand dunes on her runway, looking like a mythic superhero in a multi-hued green jumpsuit and sunglasses, and zoomed across his phone screen.

Once the Fenty fashion show had officially ended, the teenaged drama student and his friend from home joined a congregation of people that had formed on the side of the building along East 66th Street. While they waited behind a metal barricade with the rest of the crowd for the possibility of catching a glimpse of Rihanna leaving, a nearby paparazzo chuckled, “yeah, what about the clothes?”