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Looking for Loud Luxury
On Color, Chromophobia, and Colonialism

Just like taste, scent, and sound, color can provoke sensations and feelings; color has the power to awaken memories and nostalgia, to take you back to a specific moment and place. I absolutely love that about color, the deep significance it holds over us, the way dressing in certain hues can change our mood and affect our entire day.
Color is the unifying theme in my work as a designer, photographer, artist, and even as a cook. I’ve always been deeply inspired by color, saturation, and the pairing of different hues. I sometimes say that color runs in my blood.
I grew up in the Midwest in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and during my childhood, I would sometimes be allowed to travel to India in the summer to visit family. I distinctly remember how starkly different the use of color in style and fashion was there, and I remember feeling at home with my instinctive clothing and décor choices. The use of maximalism, the juxtaposition of colors, patterns, fabrics, details, textures, embroideries, and the vast variety of weaves and handmade processes in the custom-made garments are a huge part of what fueled my love for fashion and my interest in becoming a designer.

One of my early collections was about color itself, titled “Color is a Cure.” It was about the healing power of color. I believe that different colors hold deep meaning and power over us; there is a reason we are each attracted to certain shades and sometimes even repelled by others. What is more luxurious than the power of color and craftsmanship?
I never understood the appeal of “quiet luxury,” a trend that arose around 2020 and became very popular in 2023. But make no mistake, this idea of elevating a neutral, white and beige palette to a higher status is not new; it is connected to the ideals of white supremacy and colonialism. White and neutrals too are colors, and all colors can and should have their moments, but the dominance of a white aesthetic is classist and bores me.
The erasure of color, and the concept of quiet luxury, have everything to do with the false idea of the superiority of Western culture; the fear of color represents the fear of non-Western cultures. This fear of color has existed throughout time in art and fashion in the West. The idea of a neutral palette being more “elevated” is a distinctly colonial perspective, a mindset that still pervades the world of fashion and design today.
In his book Chromophobia, David Batchelor argues that “colour is bound up with the fate of Western culture,” and that “colour has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture. For the most part, this prejudice has remained unchecked and passed unnoticed… As with all prejudices its manifest form, its loathing, masks a fear: a fear of contamination and corruption by something that is unknown or appears unknowable. This loathing of colour, this fear of corruption through colour, needs a name: chromophobia.”
Batchelor also writes, “Chromophobia manifests itself in the many and varied attempts to purge colour from culture, to devalue colour, to diminish its significance, to deny its complexity.” Over the years of running my fashion brand, abacaxi, there were times when I was confronted with chromophobia, or fear of color, though I didn’t always realize what it was in real time. I’ve occasionally gotten feedback from store buyers that my brand was too colorful for them or listened to salespeople explaining that they didn’t know how to merchandise my line, saying that it was not yet ready or “elevated enough,” or watched them display it in the back of the store.
Truthfully, I’m much more interested in the kind of luxury that embraces the deep significance of color, and that considers cultural history and craft to be the height of elevated style and worthy of status. What is more luxurious than garments that hold history and healing energy within them?
I want an instinctive maximalism and loud luxury, rather than minimalism and quiet luxury. I’m seeking bold, saturated, unabashed color. If you feel called to bring more color and hand-crafted, naturally dyed luxury into your wardrobe, abacaxi and I are here for you.

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"title" : "Looking for Loud Luxury: On Color, Chromophobia, and Colonialism",
"author" : "Sheena Sood",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/looking-for-loud-luxury",
"date" : "2025-07-20 17:35:46 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/abacaxi_12_0111.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "Just like taste, scent, and sound, color can provoke sensations and feelings; color has the power to awaken memories and nostalgia, to take you back to a specific moment and place. I absolutely love that about color, the deep significance it holds over us, the way dressing in certain hues can change our mood and affect our entire day. Color is the unifying theme in my work as a designer, photographer, artist, and even as a cook. I’ve always been deeply inspired by color, saturation, and the pairing of different hues. I sometimes say that color runs in my blood. I grew up in the Midwest in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and during my childhood, I would sometimes be allowed to travel to India in the summer to visit family. I distinctly remember how starkly different the use of color in style and fashion was there, and I remember feeling at home with my instinctive clothing and décor choices. The use of maximalism, the juxtaposition of colors, patterns, fabrics, details, textures, embroideries, and the vast variety of weaves and handmade processes in the custom-made garments are a huge part of what fueled my love for fashion and my interest in becoming a designer. One of my early collections was about color itself, titled “Color is a Cure.” It was about the healing power of color. I believe that different colors hold deep meaning and power over us; there is a reason we are each attracted to certain shades and sometimes even repelled by others. What is more luxurious than the power of color and craftsmanship?I never understood the appeal of “quiet luxury,” a trend that arose around 2020 and became very popular in 2023. But make no mistake, this idea of elevating a neutral, white and beige palette to a higher status is not new; it is connected to the ideals of white supremacy and colonialism. White and neutrals too are colors, and all colors can and should have their moments, but the dominance of a white aesthetic is classist and bores me. The erasure of color, and the concept of quiet luxury, have everything to do with the false idea of the superiority of Western culture; the fear of color represents the fear of non-Western cultures. This fear of color has existed throughout time in art and fashion in the West. The idea of a neutral palette being more “elevated” is a distinctly colonial perspective, a mindset that still pervades the world of fashion and design today. In his book Chromophobia, David Batchelor argues that “colour is bound up with the fate of Western culture,” and that “colour has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture. For the most part, this prejudice has remained unchecked and passed unnoticed… As with all prejudices its manifest form, its loathing, masks a fear: a fear of contamination and corruption by something that is unknown or appears unknowable. This loathing of colour, this fear of corruption through colour, needs a name: chromophobia.”Batchelor also writes, “Chromophobia manifests itself in the many and varied attempts to purge colour from culture, to devalue colour, to diminish its significance, to deny its complexity.” Over the years of running my fashion brand, abacaxi, there were times when I was confronted with chromophobia, or fear of color, though I didn’t always realize what it was in real time. I’ve occasionally gotten feedback from store buyers that my brand was too colorful for them or listened to salespeople explaining that they didn’t know how to merchandise my line, saying that it was not yet ready or “elevated enough,” or watched them display it in the back of the store.Truthfully, I’m much more interested in the kind of luxury that embraces the deep significance of color, and that considers cultural history and craft to be the height of elevated style and worthy of status. What is more luxurious than garments that hold history and healing energy within them?I want an instinctive maximalism and loud luxury, rather than minimalism and quiet luxury. I’m seeking bold, saturated, unabashed color. If you feel called to bring more color and hand-crafted, naturally dyed luxury into your wardrobe, abacaxi and I are here for you."
}
,
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{
"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 %}"
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{
"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 "
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{
"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."
}
]
}