Power! Identity! Beading! Lessons from ‘Next in Fashion’
Popular Netflix reality TV show is a treasure trove of quirky characters
It turns out that I had to get sick and lie in isolation for a while, because fate had something important in store: I had to watch all 10 episodes of Netflix’s reality TV fashion design competition, “Next in Fashion,” in one day. It simply had to be done. Because this was a show where people say things like, “A wrestling singlet is one of the most universal activewear pieces that you can create,” and “It’s super fresh. I love a cape.”
This kind of breathtaking conviction in the fanciful is a rare gift in a world such as ours.
But really, the true magic of “Next in Fashion” is its skill in demonstrating how nationality — that fraught identification currently caught between globalization and populism — can play such a powerful role in organizing and characterizing a microcosm of 18 hopeful creatives.
To wit: surely there was no other contestant who worked as feverishly as Charles from Hamilton, Ont.!
One of the show’s hosts literally notes how Charles “beavers away!” His earnest, exhausting diligence is thrown into high relief by his partner Angelo-from-Italy, who often seems to speak in snippets of haiku: “Sky is not only for the bird.”
And: “To be Italian in fashion is like, to be wow.”
Here’s a typical exchange:
Angelo (distractedly, in a thick Italian accent): “That one can be nice …. Ah! Here —”
Charles (agitated): “Angelo — focus. OK — stop. You have to focus. Look at me.”
Angelo (undeterred): “Or for example … the black, blacker-”
Charles: “Angelo! You need to listen to me. Because you’re doing what you want to do, and we need to work as a team.”
YES! Peace, order and good governance! But for all his earnest, self-avowed diligence, he’s let down by his belief that effort, skill and relentless time-management will be enough. His aversion to risk is his tragic flaw: “I’m always afraid of pushing it too far ... ”
Playing it safe, while thoroughly Canadian, is no way to the top. Charles is the perennial underrecognized underdog: of the 18 contestants, he’s the only one without his own fashion label. Oh, Charles. Oh, Canada!
And then there’s Daniel, the unfailingly charming, handsome chap whose Britishness is evidenced in outfits inspired by classics of British culture; rowers! Jockeys! Private school boys! Yes, it reeks of class privilege and nostalgia for the Days of Empire, but he’s just so damn lovely that you can’t help but hang on his every word and admire his undeniable skills. That’s Britain for you.
As the only team of two American men, Ashton and Marco faithfully bear out the long-standing U.S. mythology of a masculinity of brotherhood. Despite being gay, multicultural and into bondage-inspired streetwear and unmentionables, Ashton and Marco fulfil the archetype of the unfailingly loyal, hardcore dude who says things like, “I’ll always have your back, bro.”
But for all the ways “Next in Fashion” reveals the pervasiveness of national identities, it also challenges stereotypes, perhaps most powerfully with its two Asian contestants, Angel from China and Ming Ju from South Korea. These women, despite appearing demure and cute, are, frankly, powerhouses: edgy, skilled, and bold, they are consistently brilliant. And funny.
Ming Ju: “Angel … how’s going?”
Angel: “So right now … I’m going to cut four ribbons.”
Ming Ju: “OK … good luck.”
Ming Ju could easily be mistaken for a frump who never grew out of Hello Kitty, but she’s actually a rock star. So really, the show offers us a glimpse into the pervasiveness of identity politics — for better and worse — and the thrill of really discovering the unique brilliance of the individual, which is something we need to see a lot more of if we’re serious about valuing equality and diversity.
One quibble: in the streetwear episode, two Black American men are on the judging panel about to dismiss two Black American women, one of whom is a successful pioneer of women’s streetwear. One of them simply can’t tell these women — who’ve created something in a style that, by its definition, is about not being understood or originated by the dominant culture — that he doesn’t like their outfits. It’s so acutely uncomfortable for him to find himself, as a Black man, on the “right” side of a power dynamic where dominant culture appropriates countercultural creations that he walks out.
The panel, unable to make a decision, leaves. The next day, it’s announced that no one is being sent home. So rather than really dig into this incredibly valuable moment of friction at the crux of identity politics (race, gender, nationality) and power dynamics — it’s simply declared a misfire, as if it were a problem that can’t be solved.
It’s a disappointing message to be sent by a show that’s supposed to be about the future and the power of creativity. Latham Hunter is a writer and professor of cultural studies and communications; her work has been published in journals, anthologies, magazines and print news for 25 years. Her novel, “Pieces of Work,” is available on Amazon.ca, and she blogs at The Kids’ Book Curator.