It was all about “resistance” this season. New York Fashion Week showcased black models on their runways, fashion editors bustled around the city with t-shirt slogans and buttons proudly displaying their political point of view, and some designers “threw shade” at the current presidential administration. “‘I need to get my hands on a Black Lives Matter T-shirt,’” Senior Fashion Writer, Marjon Carlos said. 

“‘I need to get my hands on a Black Lives Matter T-shirt,’” Senior Fashion Writer, Marjon Carlos told Vogue.com. ‘‘I don’t normally believe that a button or tote can be the catalyst of change that we need to see in our world today–consuming product doesn’t often lead to social justice, ya know?–but the stakes are far too high these days’” she noted. 

This is true. The stakes are high, but they have been high for black people in this country for a long time.

Fashion, historically, has always reflected the times, but reducing black movements to mere trends while people are losing their lives is insufferable. 

Of course, black people have long driven fashion trends in America, much as they’ve been at the helm of other cultural forces dating back to the early days of slavery.

Who you think crafted the first American ready-to-wear collection? Negro goods, fashioned from cheap and poorly made garments that slaves remixed and styled as pieces from leftover fabric, became a staple for women early on.

In 1913, although forced to the back of the line, black women marched in The Women’s Suffrage Parade wearing sashes of resistance in their Sunday’s best with fur. Flash forward to the 1970’s, the birth of the black power movement where the afro became a prominent style fixture, causing the popularity of urban trends soared in the 1990’s and early 2000s. Not to mention how the influence of hip hop impacted American style on a broader scale in mainstream culture.

In the era of #BlackLivesMatter, the concept of blackness itself emerged into the fashion mainstream. 

Luxury brands like Gucci, and even beauty brands like NARS, embraced themes inspired by black movements. It was especially clear that symbols of blackness were going mainstream when creative director, Zac Posen featured model Maria Borges rocking a short afro in his Pre-Fall 2016 lookbook for Brooks Brothers — a brand often synonymous with the white conservative elite. Posen also proclaimed #BlackModelsMatter the following year when he notably splashed the hashtag on a handbag featured on his Instagram page.

Spreads like “All Black Everything” by stylist Shiona Turini and artist Kehinde Wiley in Nylon magazine began to sprout in mainstream editorial outlets and black designers like Kerby Jean-Raymond of Pyer Moss, who acknowledged the notorious last words of the late Eric Garner's as well as echoing Black Lives Matter activist MarShawn McCarrel's “My demons won today I’m sorry” on the runway with activist DeRay McKesson in attendance. 

Historically, fashion’s embrace of blackness has been fickle at best. Like trends, sentiments toward black culture are often temporary and fleeting. Details borrowed from black culture are deemed fascinating or noteworthy by the fashion elite but then are often appropriated and sharecropped for press and profit.

How many times does Auntie Bethann have to call out the need for black models? Are there plans to increase the little over 1% of black designers currently deemed “worthy of acknowledgement by the industry?” How long will we allow “fashion’s racial divide” to excavate and overlook black talent? When will we finally solve fashion’s “race problem?” Isn’t it reprehensible for a fashion brand to sell a look inspired by you, to you, yet refuse to hire and support people who look like you? 

"They love black culture but the don’t love black people." Fashion director and writer Dario Calmese underscored in his conversation some weeks ago at Black Fashion Symposium hosted by The Museum at FIT. The symposium was an extension to the December launch of the Black Fashion Designers exhibition to further discuss representation and diversity in fashion industry. 

Celebrity stylist June Ambrose bravely asserted, "We’re no longer whispering…We’ve found our voice as women, and women of color especially.” She continued, “I proclaim this: I am not gonna be a worrier. I’m gonna be a warrior. And we’re gonna bring about change… To say that it is possible. We are possible.” 

When the audience questioned iconic designer and Harlem based legend, Dapper Dan about the Louis Vuitton and Supreme collaboration using his namesake and about how various luxury brands constantly borrows his vision from his style book, he responded: “I never felt that I would be embraced outside of my community…and I wasn’t lookin’ for that…fashion to me is more of a voice from the culture that I come from.” Dan would later add, “I never felt like I have to be like them. I would just kick their door down and be like me.” 

Organizations like the Black Retail Action Group, Harlem's Fashion Row and Bethann's secret Diversity Coalition, continue to make inroads for black talent in the fashion industry. Fashion elites who proudly proclaim to uphold the values of diversity, yet instead present a glorified version of tokenism in place of inclusion must be called out.

It's a fine line, but a prominent one. How long will we strive for acceptance? 

In the notorious words of Nelson Mandela: "We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?" The talent has always been there. It's time to accept our "awesomeness" and work cross functionally in the industry together.