{ "article": { "title" : "Fashion (still) has a Fascism Problem: From Mussolini to Musk, the fashion industry’s troubling alliance with power persists.", "author" : "Louis Pisano", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/fashion-still-has-a-fascism-problem", "date" : "2025-05-06 09:57:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Kim-Kardashians-Perfect-Magazine-shoot.jpg", "excerpt" : "Magazine’s latest cover featuring Kim Kardashian alongside various Tesla wares. Kim on a Cybertruck, Kim in the embrace of a Tesla Optimus robot, hyper-polished, eerily soulless images of two massive brands… seemingly devoid of deeper meaning… except it wasn’t. It felt like a perfect distillation of a troubling ideology: the fusion of fashion, technology, and authoritarian aesthetics, all in service of power.", "content" : "Magazine’s latest cover featuring Kim Kardashian alongside various Tesla wares. Kim on a Cybertruck, Kim in the embrace of a Tesla Optimus robot, hyper-polished, eerily soulless images of two massive brands… seemingly devoid of deeper meaning… except it wasn’t. It felt like a perfect distillation of a troubling ideology: the fusion of fashion, technology, and authoritarian aesthetics, all in service of power.So, I criticized the shoot; it went viral. Some people got it. Others didn’t, insisting it was “just a magazine,” that fashion “isn’t political.” But fashion has always been political, and more importantly, it has always had a little bit of a Nazi problem. This isn’t just about the Perfect Magazine cover, Elon Musk, or Kim Kardashian; it’s about how fashion has historically aligned itself with authoritarianism, and how we’re watching it unfold again today.Fashion’s entanglement with fascism isn’t just a one off chapter in history, it’s foundational to how the industry operates. Nazi Germany understood that power isn’t just about military force but about aesthetics and uniformity. Hitler’s regime meticulously crafted an image of strength and modernity, hiring designers to create some of the most ( unfortunately ) visually striking propaganda of the 20th century. The clean lines, brutal efficiency, and cold futurism of Nazi visual culture became a blueprint for authoritarian aesthetics in the modern age when the war ended.The industry itself was complicit. Hugo Boss manufactured SS uniforms using forced labor from concentration camps. Coco Chanel, now lauded as a feminist icon, was a Nazi informant and anti-Semitic opportunist who used the war to try and steal her company back from its Jewish co-owners. Christian Dior’s postwar success was built in the ruins of Jewish couturiers who were either exiled or erased.Hugo Boss Designed Nazi UniformsCoco Chanel was a Nazi informantBut it wasn’t just Germany. In 1930s Italy, Benito Mussolini’s government exerted control over the fashion industry, establishing the Ente Nazionale della Moda (ENM) in 1935 to coordinate fashion production and promote a distinct Italian style. A tool of nationalist propaganda, the ENM ensured that Italian fashion aligned with fascist ideals. The organization also aimed to eliminate foreign influence (especially French fashion), elevate Italian designers, and reinforce a vision of Italy as a self-sufficient, culturally superior state.Benito MussoliniMussolini understood fashion’s role in shaping national identity. The Italian government dictated styles that embodied the fascist ideal, structured, powerful, yet unmistakably Italian. Women were expected to dress modestly, reflecting their domestic role in Mussolini’s rigid societal order, while men’s fashion leaned into militaristic tailoring, reinforcing ideals of strength and discipline. Fashion magazines under fascist control encouraged women to embrace an elegant but restrained femininity, one that placed the state above personal expression.Even luxury brands played along. Salvatore Ferragamo, for example, outfitted the feet of everyone from Hitler’s wife, Eva Braun, who came to his shop flanked by Nazi guards, and Benito Mussolini.Eva BraunThese are not just footnotes, they are foundational to how fashion rebuilt itself in the 20th century.Back to modern day and fashion’s flirtation with authoritarianism hasn’t vanished, it’s just evolved. Elon Musk has turned X (formerly Twitter) into a breeding ground for far-right extremism and amplifies white nationalist rhetoric under the guise of “free speech.” He treats governance like a personal game, systematically dismantling institutions, gutting regulatory oversight, and positioning himself as the ultimate arbiter of truth.Tesla’s branding borrows from fascist futurism: sleek, cold, obsessed with efficiency at all costs. The Perfect cover is an extension of this, fashion as a sterile, dehumanized dystopia where power is the only currency. The visual language of Musk’s empire, militaristic minimalism and brutalism repackaged as luxury, is absolutely not new. It’s a direct descendant of the aesthetics that defined fascist regimes.The Perfect cover wasn’t just a poorly thought out fashion moment, it was very much a signal of where the industry’s elite allegiances are shifting. The same industry that once dressed SS officers is now platforming tech billionaires who want to dismantle democracy and replace it with corporate autocracies.And let’s talk about who’s making these decisions. Perfect Magazine is run by Katie Grand, a white woman who has spent decades curating fashion’s biggest moments and styling some of the most influential shoots that shaped public perception. And now, she’s using that power to platform a billionaire who is gutting democracy, stripping labor rights, and amplifying the far right. There’s something eerily familiar about a white woman aligning herself with fascist-adjacent forces. We like to tell ourselves that fascism is a hyper-masculine ideology, that it’s all angry men in uniforms shouting into microphones. But history tells a different story. Women have always played a crucial role in legitimizing and normalizing authoritarian regimes and fashion has been one of their sharpest tools.During the Nazi era, women’s magazines helped push fascist beauty ideals, encouraging women to embody “Aryan femininity” while also supporting the regime in domestic and social roles. The wives of high ranking Nazi officials threw extravagant parties in couture while their husbands orchestrated genocide. Even in fascist Italy, designers like Elsa Schiaparelli played with military aesthetics, blending them elegantly into high fashion.And now, we have Katie Grand curating a new kind of fascist aesthetic with a cover that frames an authoritarian billionaire like Elon Musk as the future. Just like women in the past championed beauty under fascism, Grand is dressing up modern authoritarianism and making it look desirable.Musk isn’t the only one using fashion as a tool for authoritarian branding. His buddy Donald Trump understands the powers of aesthetics. MAGA culture thrives on uniformity and branding, from the red hats to the oversized suits that became a blueprint for power dressing in certain right-wing circles. Trump’s aesthetics, big, loud, excessive, and room dominating are the visual antithesis of Musk’s sterile futurism, but they serve the same purpose: reinforcing hierarchy, separating the elite from the undesirable.The mainstream fashion industry, of course, pretends to stay neutral. But as we’ve seen recently brands are clamoring to dress him and his family. Brioni still tailors his suits. Dior dresses his wife and daughter. The industry loves to perform progressivism, but when it comes to actual power, it’s never been interested in taking a long term stand.Every time fashion’s political ties are pointed out, the response is the same: “Fashion isn’t political.” But it always has been. As the world slides back toward authoritarianism, fashion is once again complicit. We condemn its past alliances with oppressive regimes, yet the present echoes the same patterns.By aligning with figures like Musk and Trump, fashion isn’t just overlooking the issue, it’s making an active decision to side with power built on exploitation and division for their bottom line and if we don’t call it out now, we’ll end up wearing the chains it’s silently designing." } , "relatedposts": [ { "title" : "Black Liberation Views on Palestine", "author" : "EIP Editors", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/black-liberation-on-palestine", "date" : "2025-10-17 09:01:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/mandela-keffiyeh.jpg", "excerpt" : "", "content" : "In understanding global politics, it is important to look at Black liberation struggles as one important source of moral perspective. So, when looking at Palestine, we look to Black leaders to see how they perceived the Palestinian struggle in relation to theirs, from the 1960’s to today.Why must we understand where the injustice lies? Because, as Desmond Tutu famously said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”{% for person in site.data.quotes-black-liberation-palestine %}{{ person.name }}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}" } , { "title" : "First Anniversary Celebration of EIP", "author" : "EIP Editors", "category" : "events", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/1st-anniversary-of-eip", "date" : "2025-10-14 18:01:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/WSA_EIP_Launch_Cover.jpg", "excerpt" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent Publishing", "content" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent PublishingJoin Everything is Political on November 21st for the launch of our End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine.This members-only evening will feature a benefit dinner, cocktails, and live performances in celebration of a year of independent media, critical voices, and collective resistance.The EventNovember 21, 2025, 7-11pmLower Manhattan, New YorkLaunching our End-of-Year Special Edition MagazineSpecial appearances and performancesFood & Drink includedTickets are extremely limited, reserve yours now!Become an annual print member: get x back issues of EIP, receive the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine, and come to the Anniversary Celebration.$470Already a member? Sign in to get your special offer. Buy Ticket $150 Just $50 ! and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine Buy ticket $150 and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine " } , { "title" : "Miu Miu Transforms the Apron From Trad Wife to Boss Lady: The sexiest thing in Paris was a work garment", "author" : "Khaoula Ghanem", "category" : "", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/miu-miu-transforms-the-apron-from-trad-wife-to-boss-lady", "date" : "2025-10-14 13:05:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_MiuMiu_Apron.jpg", "excerpt" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.", "content" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.From the opening look—German actress Sandra Hüller in a utilitarian deep-blue apron layered over a barn jacket and neat blue shirting—the thesis was loud: the “cover” becomes the thing itself. As silhouettes marched on, aprons multiplied and mutated—industrial drill cotton with front pockets, raw canvas, taffeta and cloqué silk, lace-edged versions that flirted with lingerie, even black leather and crystal-studded incarnations that reframed function as ornament. What the apron traditionally shields (clothes, bodies, “the good dress”) was inverted; the protection became the prized surface. Prada herself spelled it out: “The apron is my favorite piece of clothing… it symbolizes women, from factories through to serving to the home.”Miu Miu Spring 2026 Ready-to-Wear. SuppliedThis inversion matters historically. The apron’s earliest fashion-adjacent life was industrial. It served as a barrier against grease, heat, stain. It was a token of paid and unpaid care. Miu Miu tapped that lineage directly (canvas, work belts, D-ring hardware), then sliced it against domestic codes (florals, ruffles, crochet), and finally pushed into nightlife with bejeweled and leather bibs. The garment’s migration across materials made its social migrations visible. It is a kitchen apron, yes, but also one for labs, hospitals, and factories; the set and styling insisted on that plurality.What makes the apron such a loaded emblem is not just what it covers, but what it reveals about who has always been working. Before industrialization formalized labor into factory shifts and wages, women were already performing invisible labour, the kind that doesn’t exist on payrolls but sits at the foundation of every functioning society. They were cooking, cleaning, raising children, nursing the ill. These tasks were foundational to every economy and yet absent from every ledger. Even when women entered the industrial workforce, from textile plants to wartime assembly lines, their domestic responsibilities did not disappear, they doubled. In that context, the apron here is a quiet manifesto for the strength that goes unrecorded, unthanked, and yet keeps civilization running.The algorithmic rise of the “tradwife,” the influencer economy that packages domesticity as soft power, is the contemporary cultural shadow here. Miu Miu’s apron refuses that rehearsal. In fact, it’s intentionally awkward—oversized, undone, worn over bikinis or with sturdy shoes—so the viewer can’t flatten it into Pinterest-ready nostalgia. Critics noted the collection as a reclamation, a rebuttal to the flattening forces of the feed: the apron as a uniform for endurance rather than submission. The show notes framed it simply as “a consideration of the work of women,” a reminder that the invisible economies of effort—paid, unpaid, emotional—still structure daily life.If that sounds unusually explicit for a luxury runway, consider the designer. Prada trained as a mime at Milan’s Piccolo Teatro, earned a PhD in political science, joined the Italian Communist Party, and was active in the women’s rights movement in 1970s Milan. Those facts are not trivia; they are the grammar of her clothes. Decades of “ugly chic” were, essentially, a slow campaign against easy consumption and default beauty. In 2026, the apron becomes the newest dialect. An emblem drawn from leftist feminist history, recoded into a product that still has to sell. That tension—belief versus business—is the Miuccia paradox, and it’s precisely why these aprons read as statements, not trends.The runway narrative traced a journey from function to fetish. Early looks were squarely utilitarian—thick cottons, pocketed bibs—before migrating toward fragility and sparkle. Lace aprons laid transparently over swimmers; crystal-studded aprons slipped across cocktail territory; leather apron-dresses stiffened posture into armor. The sequencing proposed the same silhouette can encode labor, intimacy, and spectacle depending on fabrication. If most brands smuggle “workwear” in as set dressing, Miu Miu forced it onto the body as the central garment and an unmissable reminder that the feminine is often asked to be both shield and display at once.It’s instructive to read this collection against the house’s last mega-viral object: the micro-mini of Spring 2022, a pleated, raw-hem wafer that colonized timelines and magazine covers. That skirt’s thesis was exposure—hip bones and hemlines as post-lockdown spectacle, Y2K nostalgia framed as liberation-lite. The apron, ironically, covers. Where the micro-mini trafficked in the optics of freedom (and the speed of virality), the apron asks about the conditions that make freedom possible: who launders, who cooks, who cares? To move from “look at me” to “who is working here?” is a pivot from optics to ethics, without abandoning desire. (The aprons are, after all, deeply covetable.) In a platform economy that still rewards the shortest hemline with the biggest click-through, this is a sophisticated counter-program.Yet the designer is not romanticizing toil. There’s wit in the ruffles and perversity in the crystals; neither negate labor, they metabolize it. The most striking image is the apron treated as couture-adjacent. Traditionally, an apron protects the precious thing beneath; here, the apron is the precious thing. You could call that hypocrisy—luxurizing the uniform of workers. Or, strategy, insisting that the symbols of care and effort deserve visibility and investment.Of course, none of this exists in a vacuum. The “tradwife” script thrives because it is aesthetically legible and commercially scalable. It packages gender ideology as moodboard. Miu Miu counters with garments whose legibility flickers. The collection’s best looks ask viewers to reconcile tenderness with toughness, convenience with care, which is exactly the mental choreography demanded of women in every context from office to home to online.If you wanted a season-defining “It” item, you’ll still find it. The apron is poised to proliferate across fast-fashion and luxury alike. But the deeper success is structural: Miu Miu re-centered labor as an aesthetic category. That’s rarer than a viral skirt. It’s a reminder that clothes don’t merely decorate life, they describe and negotiate it. In making the apron the subject rather than the prop, Prada turned a garment of service into a platform for agency. It’s precisely the kind of cultural recursion you’d expect from a designer shaped by feminist politics, who never stopped treating fashion as an instrument of thought as much as style.The last image to hold onto is deceptively simple: a woman in an apron, neither fetishized nor infantilized, striding, hands free. Not a costume for nostalgia, not a meme for the feed, but a working uniform reframed, respected, and suddenly, undeniably beautiful. That is Miu Miu’s provocation for Spring 2026: the work behind the work, made visible at last." } ] }