The Experience Economy Ate Fashion

And we’re all overfed.

The Experience Economy Ate Fashion
Mariana Baião Santos

Let’s talk about the experience economy. There was a time when fashion was about clothes. Then came collaborations, designers shaking hands across subcultures, aesthetics, and price points. Supreme x Louis Vuitton was a cultural event. Martine Rose x Nike bent streetwear into sculpture. Even Crocs x Literally Everyone had its moment.

But fashion has moved on. Not from spectacle, but deeper into it.

Today, fashion doesn’t just sell us clothes or even objects. It sells experiences, it’s all about the experience economy. And it’s embracing this with increasing urgency. From branded pop-ups in Alpine chalets to runway shows staged in abandoned swimming pools, every label wants to create a moment. Not a garment, not a look – a moment. One you’ll photograph, post, tag, and maybe even remember.

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Book Girl Summer by Miu Miu

We are now firmly in the era of experiential fashion. Clothes are often incidental, and what matters is how the whole thing feels, especially through the lens of a phone. This isn’t entirely new, but it has accelerated. The logic of the experience economy, the idea that consumers want transformation, not just transaction, has absorbed the fashion world completely.

At its best, this shift has produced real magic. Loewe’s flower-frozen gowns. Jacquemus in lavender fields. Schiaparelli’s surrealism on the red carpet. These are more than stunts; they are world-building. They invite awe.

experience economy
Burberry partners with a British countryside retreat

But when every brand tries to create a viral experience, the result is emotional inflation. The fashion calendar has become a carousel of installations, theatrical shows, influencer trips and softly branded dinner parties. All are designed to be unforgettable, and yet many blur into one visual language: neon lights, mist machines, branded napkins.

We’re not really consuming these experiences. We’re recording them. The point is to prove we were there, to document our proximity to the cultural engine. And of course, to get the shot.

The problem isn’t spectacle. Fashion has always embraced theatre. The issue is the pace and the pressure. When every campaign is an event and every label becomes a lifestyle, the audience is left with a kind of aesthetic exhaustion. It’s hard to feel moved when you’re constantly being stimulated. It’s hard to be surprised when surprise is expected.

And who is all this really for? Often, not the customers. Sometimes not even the clothes. Many of these moments are crafted for social media circulation, for buzz, for amplification, for algorithmic reach. The real-life experience becomes content. The lived moment is secondary.

experience economy

There is nothing wrong with making a brilliant idea visible. The best experiential fashion moments are generous. They stretch a concept across time and space and offer something to the viewer. But that takes intention. It takes restraint. Without those things, experience becomes empty theatre. And eventually, no one is clapping.

It’s not just audiences who are tired. Designers are too. Between collections, campaigns, collaborations and brand activations, there is little space left to think – let alone to dream.

Maybe fashion doesn’t need another moment. Maybe it needs a pause. A return to what matters. Because when you take away the drones, the set pieces and the spectacle, the idea should still hold.

And if it doesn’t, no experience in the world can save it.

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