There’s a lot happening in Paris right now. Roland-Garros dominated the media for a while. Just last week, the artist JR revealed his installation La Caverne du Pont Neuf, an optical illusion reminiscent of the works of Christo and Jeanne-Claude. And now, a heatwave is crawling through the historically charged streets, forcing people outside, jumping from the old bow-shaped bridges into the Seine. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Paris Fashion Week. Of course. The legendary, untouched epitome of the creative industry.
Since yesterday, the catwalks are ready to be catwalked, stylists are ready to style, writers to write, photographers to photograph, influencers to influence and celebrities to… celebrity. It’s a luxurious hustle and bustle of the rich and beautiful, of the passionate and the talented, of the business minds and the upcoming. And the world is so ready to watch from home. In the end, memes like Kylie Jenner in that lion-head Schiaparelli dress don’t create themselves.
Yet on the other hand, high-profile fashion events like Paris Fashion Week reliably come with the same question, every season, once again: in times of crisis, economically, humanly, politically, what value does fashion add, and is it right to focus that much on it?
In a way, it’s a bit like a theological question: it can never be fully solved, there can only be different opinions, theories and facts about it. But especially this year, it feels a bit different. Because the biggest change is actually taking place behind the runways. Or in front of them, even. I’m referring to the mobile phone screens. The newsfeeds. In the past few years, crisis and tragedy have occupied the media, day in, day out, whether on TV, in podcasts or on social media. And with every day in and every day out, more people seem to be putting an end to it. Not necessarily in an active way. More in an inactive one. Friends of mine who have consistently followed the news tell me nowadays that they can’t do it anymore. That they have to take a break. From all the bad headlines and horrifying images.
And while many of us are lucky enough to be able to just cut it out of our reality, it’s not an uncommon movement right now. Instead of keywords like Ukraine, the Middle East conflict, inflation or ICE, there is suddenly Timmy all over the internet. Timmy the whale who got stranded on the coast of the Baltic Sea, creating this public obsession over whether and how he can be saved, whose fault it is that he got stranded, and whether the government is somehow behind it all. Instead of staying up to date with what’s happening in the world, we dive into rabbit holes around the pink football shoes and playing techniques at the World Cup and celebrate as if it’s 2014 again, a time when life felt a bit easier. Instead of going to protests, we focus on trad wives, Dua Lipa‘s wedding, or the supernova of fashion: Paris Fashion Week.
2026 is a year of collective tiredness, or fatigue, to put it in a better way. Of exhaustion and overwhelm. It’s a social movement and a social atmosphere built around protecting one’s peace of mind. The urge to move on as if nothing ever happened. And for those who don’t believe me, the statistics speak for themselves.
The Reuters Digital News Report 2025 highlights a clear global rise in news avoidance. In Germany, the share of people who said they regularly stay away from the news increased from 24% in 2017 to around 37% in 2025. Similar developments can be seen elsewhere: the figure rose to 42% in the United States, 36% in France, and 40% in Australia, while Turkey recorded the highest level at 61%. The United Kingdom experienced one of the sharpest increases, with numbers climbing from around 24% to 46% over the same period. Almost double.
It’s worth mentioning that the reason for this is not only fatigue and escapism. Trust is also a factor. According to the Reuters Digital News Report from 2023, 38% of people between 28 and 34 years old said they rather not, or not at all, trust the news. Since then, it has risen to more than 40% according to the study from 2025.
It’s a lot of numbers. Confusing. I know. But what all these numbers prove is that if the world isn’t changing for the better, the attention does. So, in a way, for many, it’s a relief to read about Timmy instead of Gaza. And it’s precisely into this gap, this collective retreat, that Paris Fashion Week arrives with the 425.5 million dollar Media Impact Value Launchmetrics reported for the relevant season in 2024. Whether intentionally or not, it fills the space that the news used to occupy. That’s not necessarily meant as criticism. It’s an observation. And at the same time, it raises an uncomfortable thought: what does it mean when fashion has more reach than journalism?
So, while everyone’s watching the celebrities celebrity-ing, stylists styling and so on and so on, we have to ultimately think about what this entire movement means for the future. Because if everyone is just looking away, increasingly searching for emotional relief instead of problem-solving strategies, things can only get worse. Fewer and fewer people are fighting, showing up at protests, leaving more room for the rise of non-liberal and hostile mindsets. I don’t think escapism is bad, it clearly isn’t, everyone needs a break from time to time, but it’s essential to think about what happens when the break becomes the default. When checking out stops being a temporary coping mechanism and starts being the permanent setting.
Which brings us back to fashion, and what it could do with all that attention. The reach is there. The audience is there: many people are exhausted, and many are actively turning away from the news. Fashion has access to exactly those people. Of course, designers and creative directors should continue to focus on conceptual storytelling, poetic beauty, craftsmanship, and texture. But fashion also has an opportunity to be more than that. It has the power to engage with the issues shaping the world around us rather than remaining entirely detached from them. Because fashion, despite often being dismissed as superficial, has always been political.
The Berlin-based label GmbH demonstrated this with the speech its founders, Benjamin Huseby and Serhat Isik, gave to open their Fall/Winter 2024 collection: a call for peace in the Middle East and a statement against war and violence. Another example is the brand Matières Fécales, which presented its collection The One Percent earlier this year, exploring privilege, socio-economic differences, and deprivation. To cut it short, whether in Paris, London, New York, Milan, Berlin, or Copenhagen, fashion is engaging with what is happening beyond the runway. Collections feature bold statements printed on garments, tops made from cash, reinterpretations of camouflage and masculinity, and even protest signs appearing at the Royal Academy of Antwerp’s annual fashion show. And then there’s the longer history: Vivienne Westwood turning punk into a political movement in the ’70s, Katharine Hamnett walking into Downing Street in an oversized anti-nuclear slogan T-shirt in 1984. Fashion has always had the capacity to hold both beauty and urgency at once. It just doesn’t always choose to.
Maybe that’s what waking up from this collective tiredness actually looks like: not feeling guilty about watching the shows instead of reading the headlines. And finding ways for reality to make its way back into the spaces we already occupy. A show that makes you think. A collection that asks a question. A meme that suddenly feels like it’s about something bigger. Of course, the world doesn’t need fashion to save it. I don’t think it could. But fashion can remind people, gently, that there’s still a world beyond the front row worth paying attention to. So let’s keep an eye on the runways this season. Perhaps we’ll find something there that’s harder to ignore than the headlines.