For her Autumn Winter 2019 ready-to-wear show, ‘Radiation,’ French designer Marine Serre sent models down a subterranean runway on the outskirts of Paris. Reminiscent of cyberpunk fictions of the 1980s, the neon-hued post-apocalyptic collection juxtaposed full body spandex suits and pollution-deterring facemasks with faux fur and colourful tartan outfits. A wacky culmination of sci-fi wear and excessive tailoring made all the more fantastic by the dark, bunker-like setting it was shown in.

‘It’s a positive message that there is something after [the apocalypse],’ Marine Serre mused in an interview before the show. ‘We should stop being such pessimists.’¹

Never mind global pandemics, refugee crises, and melting ice caps. According to Serre, when the apocalypse occurs we’ll need protection from the elements, but we won’t have to forgo luxury altogether. There will still be fashion after the nuclear dust settles.

In an era when inequality is on the rise and climate collapse seems all but inevitable, the fashion industry is rife with luxury brands, like Stella McCartney, preaching the power of ethical production. But along with the promise of sweatshop-free labour and vegan leather shoes, there’s another trend emerging. It’s an alternative type of virtue signalling that enables brands to appeal to consumers’ existential anxieties without changing their production practices. I call it doomsday marketing.

Today’s most savvy cultural producers know that we’ve begun to feel helpless in the face of climate catastrophe, rising fascism and, more recently, global pandemics, and are capitalising on that vulnerability. Along with post-apocalyptic garb and water-soaked catwalks there has been a rise in prepper-focused startups (Judy), nihilistic memes, and pop albums (Lana Del Rey’s Norman Fucking Rockwell) that play with our collective sense of impending doom. All of these things represent a new kind of fetishisation for end days, a feeling of safety in knowing that although there is little hope for the future, we can consume things that will make us feel better when the earth begins to implode. But along with Yeezy-branded hazmat hoods and tactical vests at Louis Vuitton, come new questions of what we are dressing for, and who, if anyone, will benefit from buying into the apocalypse.

For their Spring Summer 2020 campaign, Balenciaga collaborated with artist Will Benedict to create an eerie, post-apocalyptic news reel showcasing the label’s latest clothes.² In it, AI-like news anchors in exaggerated suit jackets silently mouth the nightly news while eerily calm depictions of traffic-free streets and mysterious sinkholes flash behind them. A planetary eclipse showcases the brand’s most recent iteration of matrix-esque blackout sunglasses, while more cheerfully patterned dresses are displayed on pedestrians crossing a road. In this post-apocalyptic near-future, everyone is either dressed as a corporate overlord (in heavy suiting and earrings with credit card motifs), or as wealthy plebeian consumers mesmerised by obvious capitalist symbols, like handbags in the shape of Hello Kitty.

Balenciaga uses nostalgic silhouettes to demonstrate how we can dress for a future that may not exist, but it also plays to our current anxieties surrounding surveillance and climate change. Along with headlines that promise youth voter turnout and self-driving cars, there is an underlying feeling of cynicism — an understanding that even if we build a techno-utopia, we won’t regain our privacy. It may be too late to control the fate of the planet but we can still wear glamorous, Eighties-inspired clothes.

Of course fashion campaigns have tried to tackle societal issues in the past, with more or less successful results. In the 1990s Diesel released a series of ads that critiqued inequality, segregation, and gun violence. And in 2010, Karl Lagerfeld addressed the looming climate crisis with a Chanel ready-to-wear Autumn Winter runway show that featured a giant hand-carved iceberg sculpture and models adorned with an excess of neutrally-coloured furs.

Today’s apocalyptic-inspired brands have seemed to forgo the criticism waged on their forebears — perhaps because of their popularity in the art world³ or a rise in what meme-makers call ‘doomer culture,’ a desire to acquiesce to, or accelerate global collapse. This trend has been visible in pop star Grimes’ marketing for her latest record, Miss Anthropocene, a play on words to conceptualise humanity’s impact on the globe, and the potential benefit of our own, self-inflicted extinction.

To promote the album Grimes collaborated with artist Ryder Ripps on a series of billboards that read ‘CLIMATE CHANGE IS GOOD,’ and conceptualised WarNymph, a child-like digital avatar in her image, with her brother Mac Boucher. To accompany a recent interview in The Fader, a hairless WarNymph was portrayed by 3D artist Dylan Kowalksi in a series of Balenciaga gowns from the brand’s Spring Summer 2020 ready-to-wear collection. The dresses, a futuristic take on the house’s most notorious silhouettes, included bounce-y ballroom gowns in politician red and Facebook blue. Perfect formal wear for an evil alien overlord, at least when Grimes’ avatar was wearing them.

All this is to demonstrate the irony rife in the post-apocalyptic styles created by today’s most popular designers. The clothes may be a tongue-in-cheek critique of those who wield the most power in society, but when designers like Serre are selling gilet jaunes (made to mimic the vests worn by French protesters in 2019) for over $1000, and Balenciaga dresses are being worn by an avatar (who represents the girlfriend of billionaire Tesla founder Elon Musk), dressing for the end of the world becomes an inside-joke, afforded only by the rich.

This fact becomes all the more obvious when we’re confronted by a real crisis. It’s easy to call Serre’s brightly coloured collections optimistic when facing a near-future, existential threat, but when millions are confronted with facemask shortages during a global pandemic, expensive, high fashion protective gear no longer looks cute. Today we have pop stars like Billie Eilish wearing Gucci monogram facemasks and models like Naomi Campbell posing in hazmat suits while the rest of us are left DIYing bras into protective wear.

Like ads for bulletproof backpacks and panic orange ‘go bags’ the commodification of terror is always disturbing, even when the result seems practical. Yet we cannot blame regular consumers for their desire to achieve the preparedness of the elite. Though we may not be able to afford panic rooms and off-grid bunkers, or even a two-week supply of food, a slime green gift-with-purchase mask along with Billie Eilish’s latest album may make us feel one step closer to emulating those who can. It’s the reason why people are stocking up on toilet paper during a pandemic that affects our lungs. In end-times we will buy anything to make us feel prepared for the inevitable, but only the rich will survive.

Taylore Scarabelli is a New York-based writer whose work focuses on fashion, feminism and technology. She is fond of Ed Hardy and fist-size hoops.

1. L Prigent, ‘Survive the Apocalypse With Marine Serre!’ YouTube, retrieved on 12-03-2020 from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fa6PazhI6_0 ↩

2. Balenciaga, ‘Balenciaga Summer 20 Campaign,’ YouTube, retrieved on 12-03-2020 from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHSeIK6tmfg ↩

3. R Tashjian, ‘How Balenciaga Became the Art World’s Favorite Brand,’ GQ, retrieved on 12-03-2020 from https://www.gq.com/story/balenciaga-art-world ↩

RECENTLY, IT HAS BEEN brought to our attention the absolute necessity of survival kits for spur-of-the-moment disasters, as was the case with our S.F. (Shaken Fairy) friends.¹

So listen up drag queens!!

Here’s the list of essentials that should be kept in the trunk of your Monte Carlo at all times. If you don’t have a Monte Carlo, you could always use the lockers at your nearest bus station. Remember: without these essentials you could lose that emotional stability that drag queens are famous for.

To be prepared, you MUST have the following:

1. One complete set of matching floral vinyl luggage (monogrammed, of course, to avoid nasty drag queen mix-ups) complete with make-up kit and mirror.
2. Twelve economy size cans of Aqua Net or White Rain hairspray and a book of matches from Chasen’s.² Not only will the hairspray keep your big drag queen hair safe from falling debris, but it will also double as a lethal weapon when teamed with a lit match, and you may very well need to fend off kinky, horny husbands who can’t find their wives in the rubble. And best of all, the ashes from a burnt match work wonders as a glamorous and alluring eye shadow. Of course, the Chasen’s matchbook cover lets them know you’re a drag queen with class!
3. One Estée Lauder reddest red lipstick and one Yardley frosted snowflake lipstick. The combination possibilities are endless! The red can be also used for blush and the white to highlight the eyes and shade the bridge of your nose. These two items together take up very little room in your make-up kit, leaving plenty of room for your excess rhinestone jewelry.
4. A good base.
5. Liquid eyeliner and a syringe. (To make you feel beautiful from within.)
6. Rhinestone eyelashes that say ‘I do,’ just in case this happens on a Saturday night.
7. One can of FDS³ that says ‘I’ve done.’ (Better make that two cans).
8. Reserve one entire suitcase for toity tissue which you’ll use to give you those giant tits that drag queens are famous for. This will also come in handy if you should have to make stinky in a bush.
9. Four jumbo packs of Dentyne – don’t forget to chew at least three times a day!
10. Binaca⁴ in spray form, in case you pick up a truck driver (which you will).
11. No-nonsense queen-size panty hose (runproof).
12. Opera-length gloves (fuck doing your nails – that could be a disaster in itself when on shakey ground).
13. One glittery evening bag for night.
14. One black patent evening bag for day.
15. One feather headdress with office-to-evening appeal.
16. Twenty to twenty-five pair of sensible spike heels… no open-toe sandals!! Don’t worry too much about being able to walk through the debris, remember those big, butch cops and firemen are there to assist you.
17. One large bottle of appetite suppressants (you already knew that).
18. Anything else you’ll need, I guess you’ll have to steal.

As far as exactly what outfits you’ll be needing (skintight mini-skirts, peddle pushers, gowns, etc.) you’ll just have to decide for yourself – I’m sure you’ve already assembled dozens of stunning ensembles. Keep in mind that TV cameras will be constantly rolling and you’ll want to look dazzling at any cost.

This will be a time of need for others, so don’t just think of yourself. Suppose some shaken and disillusioned hunky college boy on acid should mistake you for a nurse. Be prepared… carry a thermometer in case he should suddenly drop his pants for you to take his temperature. Be prepared!

Sin Bros. was a Los Angeles-based gay culture zine published in the early 1990s. The following piece was originally published in Sin Bros. #3, in 1990. A digitized copy of the zine is accessible via the Queer Zine Archive Project.

1. In October 1989, the San Francisco Bay Area suffered a 6.9-magnitude earthquake. ↩

2. Chasen’s was a restaurant in West Los Angeles open from 1936 to 1995, famous for a celebrity clientele including Frank Sinatra, Cary Grant, and Elizabeth Taylor. See: http://www.lamag.com/citythinkblog/vintage-los-angeles-the-hidden-remains-of-chasens-restaurant/ ↩

3. Feminine Deodorant Spray ↩

4. An aerosol breath freshener ↩