Private Views: Why Are Fashion Exhibitions So Uninspiring

More than a decade ago, John Galliano was suspended as creative director of Christian Dior after going on an antisemitic tirade while drunk in a Paris café. He told a neighbouring table of women, who were not Jewish, that he “loved Hitler” and that their ancestors would have been gassed. As further allegations surfaced against the fashion designer, he checked into rehab in mid-2011 and publicly apologised for his “personal failure”. Although the story was widely reported at the time, social media was still a nascent force; the controversy somehow felt less amplified than the news of the Met’s cancellation of a planned exhibition devoted to him.

Just three years after being fired from Dior, Galliano rejoined the industry as creative director of Maison Margiela. His first collection was warmly received by critics such as Suzy Menkes. Later, the 2017 exhibition Christian Dior: Designer of Dreams at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs included a special section on Galliano that, some felt, glossed over the circumstances of his departure from the fashion house.

During a visit to the Costume Institute’s exhibition Costume Art at the Met, which pairs clothes with Greco-Roman sculptures and Old Master paintings, I explained the Galliano story to an uninterested friend as we looked at a gown he designed for Margiela’s autumn/winter 2020–21 collection. Rather than weigh in, he said he wanted to see other parts of the museum. We tried to turn around but had to wade through the show to get out.

Whether Galliano’s ‘genius’ can be separated from his conduct is subjective. How the great thinkers at the Met signed off on an exhibition devoted to him is another question. But both questions are beside the point if fashion exhibitions are often underwhelming and feel awkward in museums that don’t necessarily lend themselves to that kind of viewing experience.

On the final day of New York Fashion Week, en route to the Storm King Art Center for Collina Strada’s spring/summer 2027 runway show, I asked the market editor of a fashion magazine what she thought about the Met’s Galliano backlash. She answered: “Um, I don’t know. What do you think?” Her focus was on “finding themes and trends”, or figuring out what was sellable. Arguably, Galliano has always been sellable.

Collina Strada’s spring/summer 2027 runway show. Photo: Karla Tomanelli

Strada’s show was beautifully executed and fit seamlessly into the landscape at Storm King. It was generally high-spirited, with guests taking selfies and exclaiming “Exactly!” and “Period!” It took place on a lawn facing Alexander Liberman’s Adonai (1970–71) and Tal Streeter’s Endless Column (1968). The art and fashion worlds overlapped, but this felt like the antithesis of a Costume Institute exhibition. The clothes were animated on bodies, bringing movement and dynamism. It didn’t seem to matter that the art served as a backdrop to the spectacle. One influencer, who had forgotten her jacket, said she wished the show had been held indoors because she “could not give a shit about the art, girl!” Carly Rae Jepsen performed live.

After the show, we were shuttled to a reception celebrating Strada’s collaboration with the Swedish furniture designer Layered and the kombucha brand Synergy, which had released a limited-edition drink with a Strada-designed label. The drink contained a mix of apple, turmeric, carrot and spices. The event also featured a collaboration between Strada and Evenmouth, which sells toothpaste and probiotic dental drops used by the models before the show. This was unapologetic consumerism, with no attempt to disguise it.

Sitting on the Collina Strada x Layered rug with another writer, we wondered if there had ever been runway shows at the Rothko Chapel. Later, a publicist suggested that Dia Beacon would be a great venue for a runway show. But who could possibly be worthy of such an institution? And what would the marketing look like?

On the way back to Manhattan, a young influencer and I also talked about who would be deemed ‘safe’ enough to curate the Costume Institute’s next exhibition. Maybe one day the Costume Institute should have a show dedicated to variations on the “curator tent”, he quipped, referring to those sexless dresses, usually in linen, navy and earth tones, that “seem to inspire confidence in the art viewer”. Still, the question of who deserves to be canonised, it seems, is much less pressing than what actually makes clothes interesting once they are mounted on display.