Does Renting Clothes Instead of Buying Them Have a Real (Positive) Environmental Impact?

New research challenges the assumption that clothing rental services are inherently sustainable. 

By Joëlle Vanhamme, EDHEC Business School and Valerie Swaen, Université catholique de Louvain (UCLouvain)

Is renting clothes instead of buying them truly better for the planet? As the textile industry faces growing scrutiny for its environmental impact, clothing rental services promise consumers the opportunity to refresh their wardrobe frequently while lowering their carbon footprint. But is this solution as eco-friendly as it appears?

This is the question we sought to answer in our recent study. We chose to examine the hidden effects of consumer behaviour when using access-based services (ABS) instead of owning clothes.

Beware of the rebound effect

Our qualitative and quantitative studies highlight a surprising fact: far from always reducing the ecological footprint, clothing rentals can actually encourage increased consumption among certain types of consumers! The cause? The rebound effect, a phenomenon that occurs when the expected environmental gains are reduced, cancelled out or even reversed by compensatory behaviours on the part of consumers.

These issues are part of a wider debate on the limits of solutions perceived as ecological and on how consumers and businesses can react to avoid the pitfalls of overconsumption disguised under a different name.

ABS are built on a simple idea: instead of owning a good, the consumer benefits from it temporarily in exchange for the payment of a monetary contribution. Possession is no longer an imperative. This paradigm shift has been made possible by the rise of digital platforms in transport (Uber), leisure accommodation (Airbnb), household appliances and, more recently, fashion.

Popular flexibility

Clothing rentals, once reserved for special occasions such as weddings or galas, are now available for everyday wear. Platforms such as Le Closet and Coucou allow consumers to hire designer clothes for a few days or a few weeks, before returning them to rent new ones.

Consumers especially value the flexibility and variety these services provide. They can stay up-to-date with fashion trends without committing long-term, all while engaging in a consumption model presented as more sustainable. Textile production is among the most polluting industries, especially with the rise of fast fashion. In principle, subscribing to a clothing rental service should not only limit the quantity of clothes produced, but also extend their life by offering them to several successive users.

When the cure turns to poison

Through conducting interviews with 31 users of Franco-Belgian clothing rental platforms, we identified various rebound effects that challenge the idea that renting clothes is inherently more sustainable than buying them.

Rebound effects occur when efficiency gains or practices that are supposed to be sustainable, such as clothing rental, paradoxically lead to an increase in consumption.

The easy access – variety and low cost of rented clothes can encourage a more frequent use of the service, or even lead to buying clothes impulsively (some people even buy clothes they initially rented!) – can cancel out the expected environmental benefits of renting instead of buying (direct rebound effect).

On the other hand, someone who saves money by renting clothes may use those funds to buy other goods or services in other product categories (high-tech products, travel, household equipment, etc.), thereby increasing their total consumption and their ecological footprint.

Our quantitative study of 499 users allowed us to reach this conclusion, but it is crucial to understand that these effects are not homogeneous and vary according to consumer groups and their psychological motivations.

The rebound effect is not homogenous

Our study identifies two of the five groups analysed – representing about one-quarter of clothing rental service users – as particularly prone to experiencing negative rebound effects.

The “thrill and pleasure seekers” group (7%) is characterised by a strong search for stimulation and hedonistic motivations and is mainly made up of men. For them, renting clothes does not reduce their overall consumption, and on the contrary, it can increase it by stimulating their desire for novelty and diversity.

The group of “contextually apathetic spenders” (18%) displays paradoxical behaviour: although they are not particularly motivated by pleasure or stimulation, and reduce their consumption of clothes by renting, they increase their purchases in other product categories after renting clothes. They are also the least frugal, which reinforces their propensity for indirect rebound behaviour. They tend to be young urban men, often single and highly educated. These results highlight the need to address the diversity of consumer behaviour within the sharing and ABS economy, and to adapt strategies for each consumer group.

Other avenues for responsible fashion

Although ABS have the potential to promote more sustainable consumption habits, they can also encourage behaviours that negate these benefits – or worse, exacerbate environmental impacts. This research, therefore, challenges the assumption that clothing rental services are inherently sustainable.

What are the avenues for more responsible fashion? As ABS gain in popularity, it becomes crucial to understand how to maximise their ecological potential while minimising undesirable rebound effects. To achieve this, businesses and consumers alike may need to rethink their approach.

The implications for managers and policy-makers are clear: it is not enough to promote clothing hire as a sustainable solution. With around a quarter of users of clothing rental services likely to exhibit negative rebound behaviour, it is essential to identify these consumers and provide them with appropriate information and incentives to limit these effects.

Finding other incentives

Rental companies’ communication strategies need to be differentiated according to consumer segments. For people looking for stimulation and pleasure, hedonic incentives unrelated to the clothes rented, such as competitions, games, rewards or gifts, can be effective. For apathetic consumers, reminders of the negative consequences of their behaviour can make them think more carefully about their choices.

Companies should avoid solely emphasising the inherently hedonic aspects of clothing rentals, as this approach may inadvertently reinforce negative rebound effects. Instead, they should highlight the ecological benefits and promote value co-creation with consumers, addressing their needs while minimising environmental impact.

For example, clothing rental services could encourage the more responsible long-term rental of eco-designed products from brands that share the same ecological values. Instead of promoting the rapid rotation of items, they could encourage users to reduce the frequency of exchanges and limit the number of items that can be rented at the same time.

Efforts on all fronts

Companies could also raise consumer awareness about the environmental impact of their choices by sharing data, such as the carbon footprint of rented clothes or the number of additional uses a rented garment achieves compared to a purchased one.

Clothing rental companies should collaborate to share information and develop a deeper understanding of the environmental impacts of their practices. Through such cooperation, they can better target consumer segments and promote more responsible consumption behaviours.

At the same time, consumers play a crucial role in transforming fashion toward more thoughtful consumption. This shift begins with rethinking their relationship with fashion and adopting a minimalist approach that priorities quality over quantity.

Consumers can also choose “ethical” pieces – responsibly manufactured garments that combine style and durability. Before renting a garment, they might ask themselves, “Do I really need this?” Such mindfulness can help prevent impulse rentals and reduce environmental impact.

Achieving sustainability in clothing rental platforms requires a shared commitment from both businesses and consumers. Only through collaborative efforts can these apparel – based services deliver on their promise: reducing fashion’s carbon footprint while fulfilling consumer aspirations.

Joëlle Vanhamme, Professeur de marketing, EDHEC Business School and Valerie Swaen, Professeure ordinaire, Université catholique de Louvain (UCLouvain)

Gabrielle Chanel: The Untold Story of a Pioneering Self-Made Woman

Portrait of Gabrielle Chanel in Paris by George Hoyningen-Huene, 1935. Masthead picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

By Séverine Le Loarne-Lemaire, Grenoble École de Management (GEM)

When we think of Gabrielle Chanel, her iconic fashion empire comes to mind. Yet, few associate her with the groundbreaking role of a self-made woman  ~ a trailblazer who defied societal norms to build a global empire. Though her name is synonymous with luxury and innovation, her entrepreneurial spirit remains undervalued, particularly in her native France. 

Creating an entrepreneurial empire from scratch remains a rare feat for women, even today. Chanel is one of the few exceptions. While her brand enjoys global recognition, her pioneering business acumen is often overlooked. In a country such as France, where stories of entrepreneurship rarely enter mainstream discourse, her achievements have not been celebrated in the same way they might have been if she were American. Yet, even in the U.S., where the “self-made man” myth thrives, the concept of a “self-made woman” remains underdeveloped.

Entrepreneurship research often highlights that building a sustainable business requires capital, which tends to favour those with pre-existing wealth or social connections – privileges disproportionately held by men. Academic studies, such as those by Le Loarne-Lemaire (2014), demonstrate how educational access and networks, often inherited, play a critical role. Entrepreneurs are frequently the children of other entrepreneurs, perpetuating cycles of privilege.

The self-made woman archetype

In this context, Gabrielle Chanel stands out as an anomaly. The American myth of the self-made man, as described by researcher James Catano, portrays an industrious, typically white male immigrant who rises from obscurity to create an economic empire. This archetype has roots in 19th-century America, with figures such as Andrew Carnegie embodying the ideal.

Chanel’s story flips this gendered narrative on its head. Starting from humble beginnings, she turned her life into a carefully crafted legend. Orphaned and raised in a convent, she took those early struggles and spun them into a mix of fact and fiction that defined her image. She controlled every detail – even designing her own gravestone.

A path forged through independence

Unlike heirs who build on family wealth, Chanel started with nothing. Lacking formal training in couture, she relied on creativity and her vision of women. Her first shop was funded with the help of a lover, but she repaid him. Even her partnership with the Wertheimer brothers, who helped scale Chanel No. 5, was carefully negotiated to retain control over her brand.

Chanel’s wartime actions, including collaborations with the Nazi regime, remain a contentious part of her legacy. Yet, it’s worth noting that she was not alone among French business leaders in making morally questionable choices during World War II. The scrutiny she faces today often exceeds that directed at her contemporaries.

Gabrielle Chanel stands out as a true self-made woman – arguably one of the first in capitalist history. Her rival, Elsa Schiaparelli, can’t make the same claim. Schiaparelli was born into privilege, with significant social and economic capital, and married a count before launching her business. Even in the United States, where entrepreneurship flourished, contemporaries such as Helena Rubinstein don’t fully fit the self-made mould – Rubinstein built her empire with the help of her husband.

The closest contender to Chanel’s title might be Elizabeth Arden. A nurse from rural Canada, Arden moved to New York to carve out her fortune. She opened her first beauty shop with her own savings and expanded it into a global brand and franchise. While loans helped fuel her growth – likely facilitated by her marriage to a banker – her husband’s attempts to impose his friends and ideas on the business underscored their dynamic. Coco Chanel, ever fiercely independent, would never have tolerated such interference.

The big names

If Chanel represents the myth of the self-made woman, why isn’t she celebrated that way? Would her achievements have been more widely recognised if she had built her empire in the United States? The answer is far from clear.

Before exploring the American angle, let’s take a closer look at the French context. Despite globalisation of culture and economies, certain myths don’t cross borders easily. In France, there’s a noticeable disinterest in the stories of entrepreneurs. How many people can name the founders of Carrefour or Seb? L’Oréal’s founder is somewhat known, but mostly due to the scandals of his descendants. Family business sagas, such as those of the Mulliez clan, garner more attention. Yet, the glorification of entrepreneurs – especially those who start with nothing – is largely absent. Even initiatives such as French Tech Nation and efforts by BPI France haven’t sparked a cultural shift.

For women entrepreneurs, there have been attempts to create female “role models,” but the focus is often on contemporary figures. Instead of drawing on the successes of the past, the spotlight is placed on profiles still in development. While this approach boosts visibility for current entrepreneurs, does it inspire the next generation? Research suggests it might not.

Chanel, despite being the subject of countless biographies in France, is rarely held up as an example in entrepreneurship courses or programs aimed at fostering female leadership. In France, the myth of the female entrepreneur remains unfinished – and the idea of the self-made woman is even further behind.

The paradox of the self-made man

Would Chanel’s achievements have been more celebrated if she had operated in the United States? Perhaps not. The American myth of the “self-made man” struggles to adapt to gender and contemporary realities. As Catano notes, the archetype elevates individuals who challenge societal norms while paradoxically reinforcing a rigid, masculine ideal that excludes women.

In the 1950s, when Chanel’s empire was thriving, the prevailing image of women in America was the housewife – a stark contrast to Chanel’s commanding role as a businesswoman. Even during the “working girl” era of the 1970s and 1980s, Chanel’s success might have seemed too audacious. Her story challenges traditional gender roles in ways that remain uncomfortable even today.

Xerfi Canal.

A myth still to be written

Chanel might be the ultimate symbol of a “self-made woman,” but that narrative remains largely untold. In fact, the idea of the “self-made man” itself – the classic rags-to-riches archetype – feels increasingly out of step with the times.

Today’s cultural spotlight favours contemporary role models over historical figures, as evidenced by Forbes’s power rankings. Modern entrepreneurial icons often come with pedigrees tied to elite institutions – Mark Zuckerberg from Harvard, Larry Page from Stanford. Even Elon Musk, who claims to have worked his way through college, benefited from a head start in social and financial capital. These realities undermine the self-made narrative, particularly in today’s tech-driven economy. The focus has shifted from celebrating humble beginnings to examining the broader impact of these empires.

Chanel, however, made a profound impact through her work. Her designs helped liberate women from the constraints of corsets, offering practical yet elegant alternatives that redefined fashion. But while her influence was revolutionary, social engagement wasn’t a hallmark of her career. Chanel made bold, sometimes ruthless decisions, such as shutting down her business and laying off her entire workforce during World War II. To be fair, few of her contemporaries demonstrated significant societal commitments either.

Gabrielle Chanel, an inspiration

“Different times, different values”? If the myth of the “self-made man” is losing relevance – challenged for its “self-made” ideal and its inherently masculine framing – Chanel’s story remains a lesson in resilience and innovation, one that deserves attention in both France and the United States.

Her life unfolded during the transformative 1920s, a period of newfound freedoms for women, later stifled by war and authoritarian regimes. Chanel navigated dominated business spheres with skill, never allowing herself to be dismissed or pigeonholed. Her career highlights the importance of partnerships and the reality that few entrepreneurs achieve greatness alone.

Chanel’s journey also offers a guide to securing funding and maintaining autonomy – skills critical to any aspiring entrepreneur. In many ways, she predated post-feminism by embodying its principles. She redefined entrepreneurship as a space where collaboration with men didn’t compromise her control or vision. Chanel’s legacy not only reshaped fashion but also challenged entrenched social hierarchies, proving that women could thrive and innovate in the entrepreneurial world.

Séverine Le Loarne-Lemaire, Professor, Head of the FERE Research Chair (Female Entrepreneurship for a Renewed Economy) Habilitée à diriger des recherches en sciences de gestion, Grenoble École de Management (GEM)

Everyone Will Want to See Yayoi Kusama at the NGV: Those Who Don’t Will Spend a Lifetime Regretting It

Yayoi Kusama © YAYOI KUSAMA Photo by Yusuke Miyazaki Courtesy of Ota Fine Arts

By Sasha Grishin, Australian National University

Now aged 95, Yayoi Kusama for many decades has been considered one of the most influential contemporary artists. She works across a wide range of art forms, including sculpture and installations, painting, graphic arts, fashion, video art, performance and writing.

Kusama’s immersive infinity rooms have mesmerised audiences around the world. The National Gallery of Victoria’s blockbuster exhibition sets out to rewrite the history books in its unveiling of her most recent infinity mirror work, My Heart is Filled to the Brim with Sparkling Light, together with nearly 200 other pieces by the artist, many never previously shown in Australia.

The earliest works in the show date from the 1930s and the most recent were made in 2024.

Kusama’s art has the rare ability to transform a personal nightmare into a vision of paradise – one that has no boundaries and defies definition through a rational intellect.

She translates her pumpkins, polka dots, river stones and flowers into a boundless universe of sensory experiences. There is no boundary between the animate and inanimate. Everything has a voice and spirit.

‘Lost in thought’

Kusama grew up on a plant nursery and flower and vegetable seed-propagating farm in rural Japan. In her autobiography, she recalls a childhood memory:

From a very young age I used to carry my sketchbook down to the seed-harvesting grounds. I would sit among the bed of violets, lost in thought.

[…]

One day I suddenly looked up to find that each and every violet had its own individual, human-like facial expression, and to my astonishment they were talking to me. The voices grew in number and volume, until the sound of them hurt my ears. I had thought that only human beings could speak, so I was surprised that the violets were using words to communicate. They were all like little human faces looking at me. I was so terrified that my legs began shaking.

Portrait of Yayoi Kusama c. 1939. Image courtesy of the artist © YAYOI KUSAMA

Her life is punctuated with numerous hallucinations, bouts of self-doubt and depression and her desire to obliterate herself.

She reflected:

I fight pain, anxiety, and fear every day, and the only method I have found that relieved my illness is to keep creating art.

Since 1973 Kusama has lived voluntarily in a psychiatric hospital. On a daily basis, she travels to her studio to work on her art.

A profoundly moving exhibition

As with many of Kusama’s exhibitions, the show at the NGV is overwhelming. It occupies virtually the entire ground floor space of NGV International on St Kilda Road.

The immersive infinity rooms are a mind-bending experience. The recent one made in 2024, Infinity Mirrored Room – My Heart is Filled to the Brim with Sparkling Light, is mesmerising and having its international premiere here in Melbourne.

Visitors in the Yayoi Kusama exhibition at NGV International, Melbourne until April 21 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA Photo: Danielle Castano

The earlier piece, The Hope of the Polka Dots Buried in Infinity Will Eternally Cover the Universe (2019), with its six-metre-high black tentacular forms covered in yellow polka dots is a highlight of the show, also premiering in Australia at this exhibition.

Visitors in the Yayoi Kusama exhibition at NGV International, Melbourne until 21 April 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA Photo: Danielle Castan

What are we to make of Kusama’s oeuvre as assembled in this huge and profoundly moving exhibition? What I did not expect from this exhibition was the sense of a prolonged cry of pain with the artist consciously seeking self-obliteration through her art.

Having experienced a traumatic childhood and being forced by her mother to spy on the infidelities of her father, Kusama expressed a revulsion to sex and in the 1960s and 1970s produced numerous works covered with flabby penises, including Ceremony for Suicide (1975–76).

Installation view of the Ceremony for Suicide, 1975–76, as part of the Yayoi Kusama exhibition at NGV International, Melbourne until April 21 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA. Photo: Kate Shanasy

Also having experienced hallucinations from an early age, by remaking these hallucinations in her art she could maintain her sanity. Although this strategy did not always work and she attempted suicide on a number of occasions.

Kusama has marketed herself as an extrovert character in her red wig, a little like Andy Warhol in his platinum wig.

Installation view of Song of a Manhattan suicide addict, 2010, on display as part of Yayoi Kusama at NGV International, Melbourne until April 21 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA. Photo: Sean Fennessy

Kusama appears in this guise in her video performance piece in this show, Song of a Manhattan suicide addict (2010).

Behind the extrovert glitter that runs throughout the exhibition, there is the sound of a suppressed scream of pain and the desire to lose identity by melting into infinity through the multiplicity of images endlessly repeated.

The Spirit of the Pumpkins Descended to the Heavens (2017) is one of her most obsessive and memorable pieces, where through a small viewing window you catch a glimpse of yourself endlessly repeated until you are completely obliterated and lost in infinity.

Installation view of The Spirit of the Pumpkins Descended to the Heavens, 2017, on display as part of Yayoi Kusama at NGV International, Melbourne until April 21 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA. Photo: Sean Fennessy

In Dots Obsession (1996/2015), you do not peer in to a space but physically negotiate a space into which you are completely dissolved.

The idea is that we, or even our entire planet, is a mere dot lost within an infinity of dots.

Visitors in the Yayoi Kusama exhibition at NGV International, Melbourne until April 21 2025. © YAYOI KUSAMA Photo: Danielle Castano

With about ten immersive pieces in the NGV show with their kaleidoscopic infinity rooms and with very few people permitted to enter at any one moment, queues will be long and the clatter of the selfies deafening.

Yayoi Kusama is an exhibition that everyone will want to see; those who don’t will spend a lifetime regretting it.

Yayoi Kusama is at NGV International until April 21 2025.

Sasha Grishin, Adjunct Professor of Art History, Australian National University

Consommé with Truffle Quenelles: A History of What the Royals Ate for Christmas, from the Exotic to the Everyday

Opulent Still-Life with Silver gilt objects, Nautilus Shell, Porcelain, Pie, Fruit and Fish on a Draped Table by Carstian Luyckx, 1650, Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Cover picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

By Lisa J. Hackett, University of New England; Huw Nolan, University of New England, and Jo Coghlan, University of New England

As we prepare our Christmas fare ~ a hot roast with all the trimmings, a seafood smorgasbord or a beach-side barbecue ~ it is timely to think about what others have on their Christmas menus.

We’ve been questioning: do the British royals eat what we do? Mostly, they probably do today, but in the past not so much.

Medieval and Georgian Christmas fare

While the Victorian era is the one most associated with modern Christmas traditions, Christmas was celebrated by earlier monarchs too.

During the medieval period in England, Christmas was time for reflection rather than fun and the Catholic Church banned gift giving. But mince pies emerged in this period. The addition of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg to meat pies was meant to symbolise the gifts bestowed by the three wise men on Jesus. By the late Victorian period, the meat was replaced by dried fruit dressed in the traditional spice combination, which continues today.

Game pies were also popular in the era for Christmas, with goose and venison the preferred filling of royals.

Willem Claesz Heda (1594–1680), Banquet Piece with Mince Pie, 1635. National Gallery of Art

In 17th century England, Oliver Cromwell’s Puritanical government banned Christmas. In 1647, Christmas feasting, alcohol and singing was banned – but many continued Christmas traditions in secret. King Charles II, on his restoration, reinstated Christmas in 1660.

Under the Georgians, Christmas celebrations reached new heights with feasts typically lasting for 12 nights.

The 12th Night Cake, a fruit cake with frosting and sugar paste embellishments, likely stemmed from the tradition of both Christmas and wedding cake.

A typical Georgian-era royal Christmas feast consisted of cheeses, soups, turkey, goose, duck, and mince pies. George I’s love of the Christmas plum pudding earned himself the nickname “Pudding King”.

Celebrating 12th Night was later banned by Queen Victoria in 1860 due to its association with paganism.

Queen Victoria’s 1894 Christmas dinner

In 1894, Queen Victoria hosted Christmas at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight. Dinner started at 9pm, the menu written in French.

The tradition of composing menus in French for royal occasions has its origins in the Norman Conquest of the 11th century, which established French as the official language of the English court. This practice continues by the royal family today, particularly for formal dinners and state occasions.

On the menu in 1894 was a calf’s head consommé garnished with truffle quenelles, cockscombs and mushrooms, followed by carrot soup flavoured with celery and ham, then salmon steaks dressed with hollandaise sauce.

Thomas Webster (1800–1886), The Christmas Pudding; from The Art Journal, November 1868. © The Trustees of the British Museum, CC BY-NC-SA

Next served were crumbed fried fillets of sole and moulds of puréed pheasant meat, macaroni with tomato sauce, cheese, ham, pickled tongue, mushrooms, and truffles.

Also served were roast beef with Yorkshire puddings and roast turkey served with braised chestnuts, glazed pearl onions, mushrooms, bacon and chipolata sausage, and a chine (backbone) of pork. Asparagus spears dressed in a white sauce accompanied the meat.

Mince pies, plum puddings and jellied orange flavoured custards served with cream were served for dessert.

As was the custom in historical royal courts, a sideboard of assorted meats was also available. The sideboard included a baron of beef (sirloins joined at the backbone) and a wild boar’s head, a gift from the Emperor of Germany Wilhelm II, the eldest of Victoria’s 42 grandchildren.

James Stephanoff (1786–1874), The Kitchen at Windsor Castle, 1819. Wikimedia Commons

The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland Lord Cadogan gave a gift of a woodcock pie, accompanied by a game pie, brawn (a terrine made of pork or veal) and a terrine of foie gras.

The meal was served with 12 bottles of wine – a gift from the Emperor of Austria, from his personal vineyards.

Dinner concluded with Stilton cheese and plates of fruit, in case anyone was still hungry.

The meal was prepared at Windsor Castle and then transported by royal yacht to Osborne, arriving on Christmas Eve. The menu for Victoria’s New Year’s Day meal likely featured remnants from the Christmas lunch – something we can relate to, if not the eating of cockscombs or calf’s head consommé.

Modern royal Christmas menus

Today’s royal family have a more familiar Christmas menu.

On Queen Elizabeth II’s 2014 dinner menu was roast turkey with sage and chestnut stuffing, Brussels sprouts, buttered carrots, roast parsnips and potatoes. Iced gingerbread with oranges in syrup was served for dessert.

Under King Charles III in 2023, the family ate a typical roast turkey lunch, followed by afternoon tea of cake, scones, mince pies, sandwiches and Christmas fruit cake with royal icing and marzipan.

The modern royals eat a much more familiar Christmas meal. Claudio Schwarz/Unsplash, FAL

The final meal of today’s Christmas is the evening buffet, more elaborate than Christmas lunch. It includes Stilton cheese and decorated York ham. It is also the only time the head chef will go into the dining room to carve the meat. One thing missing from the table today is foie gras: on becoming king, Charles banned foie gras at all royal residences.

Despite the menu, which may seem more common to us, the royal family do have some unusual habits. On Christmas day, the royal men and women have breakfast separately. The royal men are served a full English breakfast. The royal women are served fruit, toast and coffee in their rooms. Royal children eat in the nursery with their nannies, which they will continue to do each year until they are considered “old enough to conduct themselves properly at the dining table”.

Lisa J. Hackett, Lecturer, Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, University of New England; Huw Nolan, Animal Welfare Scientist and Pop Culture Researcher, University of New England, and Jo Coghlan, Associate Professor, Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, University of New England

Beyond Couture Exhibition: Explore the Poetic and Futuristic World of Yuima Nakazato During the Last Weeks of the Show at the Museum of Lace and Fashion

Yuima Nakazato's Liminal collection for Sping/Summer 2022, at the Beyond Couture show in France. Photograph (above) by Bradly Dunn Klerks. Masthead picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

In the historic French port city of Calais, the Museum of Lace and Fashion is host to an enthralling exhibition, Beyond Couture, dedicated to the avant-garde Japanese fashion designer Yuima Nakazato. As the show enters its final weeks, visitors are offered a rare opportunity to immerse themselves in the groundbreaking world of a couturier who is reshaping the boundaries of fashion with his visionary blend of tradition, technology, and sustainability, writes Jeanne-Marie Cilento. Exhibition photography by Bradly Dunn Klerks

Yuima Nakazato talks to the press

at his exhibition in Calais, France

NEXT MONTH, the Museum of Lace and Fashion bids farewell to the exhibition celebrating the artistry of Yuima Nakazato. Beyond Couture showcases his groundbreaking collections from 2016 to 2024. 

The show is more than a retrospective, rather an exploration of how the designer bridges the past, present, and future through his poetic and technologically innovative approach to fashion.

In a meticulously curated space that blends futurism with history, visitors encounter fifty of Nakazato’s most evocative garments, accompanied by sketches, technical drawings, fabric samples, and multimedia installations that unravel his creative process. 

More than just an exhibition, the show explores how Nakazato is reshaping the foundations of couture to meet the demands of a changing world.

Curated in collaboration with the designer, the show sheds light on the key elements that define his work. One highlight is Nakazato’s use of lace, a nod to the museum’s own legacy as a bastion of craftsmanship. In his hands, this traditional material is transformed, layered into designs that feel at once delicate and robust, ephemeral and enduring. His experimental textiles, offer tangible proof of how cutting-edge technologies can honour age-old craftsmanship. 

Nakazato’s work not only attests to his aesthetic innovation but also philosophical transformation. His work challenges the fashion industry to rethink its priorities, advocating for a model that values sustainability, emotional resonance, and inclusivity. In his vision, couture is not an exclusive club but a space for collective exploration: a laboratory where the old and the new, the personal and the universal, converge. 

More than just an exhibition, the show evinces how Nakazato is reshaping the foundations of couture to meet the demands of a changing world.

Nakazato's ground-breaking designs 

for the Cosmos collection, 

Spring/Summer 2020 

The designer's approach is as much about connection as it is about innovation. He views clothing not merely as fabric and form but as a vessel of emotional resonance. “Each garment,” Nakazato has said, “should create a unique bond with its wearer.” 

This belief underpins his bespoke approach to couture, where each piece tells a personal story, resonating with both its creator and the individual it adorns. 

Yet, while his creations evoke the ethereal elegance synonymous with couture, they also embody a deeper purpose ~ an urgent call for a sustainable future. 

As the fashion industry faces increasing scrutiny for its environmental impact, Nakazato has become a pioneer in exploring new ways of creating sustainable couture. By integrating materials like upcycled textiles and industrial waste into his designs, he challenges the notion of luxury, proving that beauty and responsibility can coexist. 

One of his most revolutionary ventures lies in the development of new textiles and processes. Collaborating with scientists and engineers, Nakazato has harnessed technologies such as 3D printing and biofabrication to create textiles from fermented bacteria. These innovations not only reduce waste but also explore the potential for garments to be crafted without reliance on traditional resources. 

As the fashion industry faces increasing scrutiny for its environmental impact, the Japanese designer is a leader in developing new ways of creating sustainable couture

The sinuous drapery and fluted

pleating of a piece from the 

Blue collection, Autumn/Winter 

2022-2023

Nature often serves as Nakazato’s muse, inspiring collections that echo the grandeur and fragility of the natural world. From the haunting melodies of whales to the fiery drama of volcanic lava, his designs are steeped in his respect for the planet. 

This connection is entwined with his Japanese heritage, where the aesthetics of simplicity and the philosophy of interconnectedness permeate his work. The result is a poetic marriage of natural elements and futuristic forms: a vision of couture that feels both connected to the past and yet ahead of its time. 

Nakazato’s career trajectory has been as enterprising as his designs. A graduate of the prestigious Antwerp Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Belgium, he quickly established himself as a force to be reckoned with. His final collection introduced intricate origami techniques into wearable art and he earned the academy’s coveted Innovation Award in 2008.

This early recognition set the tone for a career characterized by ingenuity, experimentation, and a commitment to redefining haute couture. Nakazato’s invitation to showcase at Paris Haute Couture Week in 2016, an honour granted by the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode, allowed him to join the ranks of celebrated and established couturiers in Paris. He also became only the second Japanese designer, after the legendary Hanae Mori, to participate on the official schedule of Paris Haute Couture. 

Through a combination of ancient Japanese techniques and cutting-edge technology, Nakazato crafts garments that embody sustainability, emotional connection, and the sublime beauty of nature. His creations are not meant to be only clothing but transformative experiences.

In this space where art, science, and philosophy meet, Nakazato invites us all to imagine a new era of fashion: a future beyond couture

 

A glimmering, three-dimensional

design from the Unkown collection,

Autumn-Winter 2016-2017

Nakazato’s artistic reach extends to the performing arts. His collaborations include designing costumes for ballet, stage productions, and opera. One of his most anticipated projects was the costume design for Idoménée, that premiered in early 2024, at Le Grand Théâtre de Genève. 

Here, Nakazato’s theatrical sensibilities converge with his technical prowess, bringing his signature blend of imagination and precision to a new audience. 

 

Yuima Nakazato represents the future of fashion: where experimentation fuels ingenuity, and where garments are more than wearable clothes but bridges 

to deeper human and environmental connections. 

As the curtain closes on Beyond Couture, it leaves behind not only a testament to Nakazato’s work but also a challenge to the industry to follow in his pioneering footsteps. 

In this space where art, science, and philosophy meet, Nakazato invites us all to imagine a new era of fashion: a future beyond couture.

 

The Beyond Couture exhibition at the Museum of Lace and Fashion in Calais runs until January 5th 2025. Open daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., except Tuesdays and major holidays, with tickets priced at €7and €4 for concessions. For more details, visit www.cite-dentelle.fr. 

For Chanel, in Search of a New Creative Breath of Fresh Air, Will Matthieu Blazy be the Man for the Job?

French Belgian designer Matthieu Blazy departed Bottega Veneta and has been appointed to take the helm at Chanel. Cover picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

The announcement that the fashion world has been waiting for: Matthieu Blazy will succeed Virginie Viard at Chanel. For the famous Parisian maison, the stakes are high, the French Belgian designer must reinvent without scaring away longtime clients and prove his ability to reimagine the Chanel style, as Karl Lagerfeld did in his time. By Delphine Dion, ESSEC

Karl Lagerfeld and Virginie Viard,

pictured together in 2000,

FOR MONTHS, the house of Chanel, one of the greatest icons of luxury, has been at a crossroads. When Karl Lagerfeld passed away in 2019, Virginie Viard, his long-time right-hand woman, succeeded him. She announced her departure in June 2024 and this change marks a decisive turning point for Chanel. The expectations for the new creative director are high: Matthieu Blazy will have to be able to open a new chapter in the history of Chanel, by redefining the aesthetics of the house while respecting its heritage.

The challenge is all the more difficult to take up since Karl Lagerfeld led the artistic creation of Chanel for more than three decades. This means that the man known for his ponytail and his sense of formula left his mark, while respecting the aesthetic codes defined by Coco Chanel. He left a deep mark on the history of fashion. His unique vision, his creativity and his personality made the house shine throughout the world. His impact was such that it was difficult to imagine the future of Chanel without Karl Lagerfeld.

Brand Dynasties

To understand all the issues involved in a successful succession to artistic direction, it is important to remember that a fashion house functions like a dynasty. Like a monarchy where successive sovereigns embody power in their own way, artistic directors succeed one another at the head of a fashion brand to embody and reinterpret its heritage. Since the death of Christian Dior in 1957, six artistic directors have succeeded one another at the head of the house, each embodying in their own way make the spirit of the house: Yves Saint-Laurent, Marc Bohan, Gianfranco Ferre, John Galliano, Raf Simons and Maria Grazia Chiuri.

When an artistic director joins a house, he immerses himself in the heritage of the house: the personality and history of the founder, the iconic pieces of the house, the symbols of the brand, the places associated with the brand, etc. He chooses the elements of the heritage that he will highlight and reinterpret in his own way. He can also bring out elements of the heritage that are less well known or more peripheral in order to renew the heritage.

Thus, Karl Lagerfeld structured Chanel's heritage around materials (tweed, gold chain, quilted leather), colors (black and white), symbols (camellia, double C), etc. And, for more than 25 years, he has continued to reinterpret this heritage. He has also enriched this heritage by introducing new codes such as the lion, in homage to Coco Chanel's astrological sign, which has become an icon of the jewellery collection.

Dynastic Transitions

Dynastic transitions are difficult times for brands. The departure of an artistic director can be fatal. Lanvin never recovered from the departure of Alber Elbaz, who was called the darling of fashion at the time. Artistic directors came and went, but none managed to pick up the torch and create the enthusiasm that Alber Elbaz had generated. Similarly, since Alessandro Michele left Gucci, sales have collapsed.

The arrival of a new artistic director can also create a new dynamic within a house by injecting new creativity. This is the case, for example, of Heidi Slimane when he joined Saint Laurent and later Celine. Each time, his work resulted in a new creative breath of fresh air and a significant increase in turnover. Enough to satisfy customers, the specialist press and... shareholders. This means that choosing a successor is a very delicate operation with major strategic issues.

The Danger of Mummification

Some artistic directors remain very close to the brand's heritage. This strategy allows the brand to be rooted in its heritage. Thus, drawing on the house's heritage, Virginie Viard has taken up certain iconic codes from Coco Chanel and Karl Lagerfeld, including tweed, two-tone ballerinas, mauves and floral muslins.

However, this strategy can cause a phenomenon of brand mummification: collections end up lacking creativity, becoming similar and tiring the public. This is what we have seen at Chanel in recent years. Virginie Viard's departure marks the end of a cycle and the need to redefine the creative vision of the house.

There is also a risk of remaining too focused on the past and missing out on new market trends. The fashion market has evolved, particularly with the rise of athleisure – i.e. the mix between sportswear and everyday clothing, sustainable fashion, discreet luxury and the arrival of new designers.

The Risk of a Revolt

Other artistic directors tend to distance themselves from the brand's heritage. This can breathe new life into the brand but can also destabilise the dynasty by moving too far away from the house's heritage. There is a risk of rebellion. For example, when arriving at Yves Saint- Laurent, Heidi Slimane renamed the brand, removing the first name "Yves", creating a protest movement among the brand's aficionados on social networks.

He moved away from the brand's heritage to propose a very personal aesthetic that broke with the history of the house. He followed the same strategy at Céline, boosting sales at both houses by creating an aesthetic that was very far removed from the brand's heritage. This could greatly complicate the task for his successor, who will struggle to ensure aesthetic continuity. These successive style breaks can produce confusion in the market and dilute the brand's identity and heritage.

The success of the artistic director also depends on how cultural intermediaries (journalists, influencers and celebrities) judge a new artistic director. To achieve this, the houses seek to have the new appointee approved by cultural intermediaries by celebrating his talent and creativity and by deciphering his creations.

 A Crucial Turning Point for Chanel

Returning to Chanel, the iconic house was at a crossroads where it had to reinvent itself, while moving forward with great caution. While respect for its heritage and values remains paramount, a bold choice like Matthieu Blazy is necessary for Chanel to maintain its place among the great fashion houses. This turning point, while delicate, represents a unique opportunity for Chanel to write a new chapter in its dynasty, faithful to its past while opening itself to the challenges of the future.

The choice of Matthieu Blazy as the next artistic director is a key moment not only for Chanel, but for the entire fashion industry, which will watch this transition process with particular interest. The fashion world is eagerly awaiting to see how he takes the reins of one of the most prestigious houses and how he will embody the Chanel spirit.

How The Cure Went Back to their Gothic Roots for their New Number One Album

The magnificent Goth heyday of The Cure in the Eighties. Photograph: Trinity Mirror/Mirrorpix/Alamy

By Neil Cocks, University of Reading

At Shrewsbury train station, there is a poster advertising The Cure’s new album, Songs of a Lost World. The confident, monochrome minimalism of the art is at odds with the rambling Victorian brickwork, yet there is a kind of sympathy there also.

At ten on a November morning, the station isn’t the most joyful of locations and so is a suitable home for a record praised for its wintery desolation. The poster helps here.

The cover art features a sculpture called Bagatelle from 1975 by the Slovenian artist Janez Pirna, which the cover’s designer chose because he pictured it “floating in space, almost as a distant relic from a forgotten time”. It also includes a new custom font, called Cureation, which is distressed and austere, and references the font used originally by the band. Like the station, these choices call upon a previous age – a lost world.

Songs of a Lost World is The Cure’s first album in 16 years. Reaching number one in the UK and now the US, some might argue it casts a pall of darkness over the pop charts; others might say it glitters a little in their reflected light. This has always been the way with The Cure.

On one side of their catalogue, we have what is known as the “unholy trinity” of early albums Seventeen Seconds, Faith and Pornography: alienated, austere, thematically dark. On the other, the shambling psychedelia of The Top and Kiss Me, the latter also featuring the blissed-out pop that helped this quintessentially English band find success in America.

In his recent book Goth: A History, the band’s former drummer Lol Tolhurst charts the genre from its 18th-century literary beginnings to its modern musical incarnation. In it, he describes how The Cure’s sound sits within this history through its unexpected influences, which range from record producer Phil Spector’s “wall of sound”, the production technique behind pop hits for The Ronettes and The Supremes, to the poetry of TS Eliot.

While Tolhurst locates the band’s sound within the gothic, frontman Robert Smith has consistently rejected the label. The difficulty in framing the band and this new album as gothic is that, like The Cure, the gothic has always been made up of contradictions.

Although nostalgic for medievalism, the gothic employs imagery that was called on by the theorist Karl Marx when discussing the alienating effects of modernity, from the “spectre … haunting Europe” in The Communist Manifesto to the “vampire life” of capital in Das Kapital.

Developed in part as a reactionary response to the revolution in France in 1789, it can be politically radical. Patriarchal, yet polymorphously perverse, pared down and baroque, glamorous and gauche, the gothic is an aesthetic devised of opposing forces.

Songs of a Lost World could be seen as a return to the darkness of The Cure’s early material. Take the lead single Alone. The lyrics turn, thematically, on death and isolation. The music has the intensity and sense of glacial doom that speaks to the fatalism and claustrophobia common to novels such as Frankenstein and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, as much as classics from the “unholy trinity” including 100 Years and A Forest.

Sinking by The Cure.

The song most clearly echoed in Alone, however, is Sinking, from The Cure’s shuffling, electronic masterpiece, The Head on the Door (1985). Both songs are lengthy and stately. They let the listener wait for most of their length before introducing Smith’s brief and despairing vocals. Despite the pared-down instrumentation of both tracks, the sound created has a density that calls upon the “wall of sound” production technique that defined The Cure’s most psychedelic and joyful recordings.

But this pulling between brightness and darkness, “the unholy trinity” and the pop excess of the other half of their catalogue, represents the band’s gothic heart. This is what makes Songs of a Lost World goth and the Cure goth too, whether Smith likes it or not.

Neil Cocks, Associate Professor in the Department of English Literature, University of Reading