The fuel of the 1980s? Power. It came in many forms: a healthy stock portfolio, a fit physique, a shattered glass ceiling. The decade stomped ahead to the beat of the NYSE bell, the music of MTV, and the click-clacks of keyboards on personal computers. And 1980s fashion was just as novel—Lycra clung to bodies revealing curves like never before and the power suit was born.
A particularly evocative editorial from Vogue’s October 1985 issue summed up the moment perfectly. Photographed by Helmut Newton, the spread, entitled “Power Dressing,” featured women hovering above men—who were filling their gas tanks, cleaning their pools, and trimming their hedges. The accompanying text was as follows: “A different way of looking at fashion—as entertainment, as fantasy, as a provocative element. And men looking differently at women. Women at men. The women dressing to be noticed…and gain the upper hand. Men can fuel fantasy. But women set the direction…and the tone. You get the sense that things are changing.”
Women’s Trends of the 1980s
By the 1980s, the previous decades’ pliable polyester suits were quickly replaced with more structured, angular versions that sent a message— women wanted power, and they were dressing the part. The work done by the 1970s Women’s Liberation Movement (notably the Equal Credit Opportunity Act of 1974) had leveled the playing field, especially when it came to finances. The economy was booming and women wanted in.
Responding to the times, designers like Claude Montana, Emanuel Ungaro, Theirry Mugler, Jean Paul Gaultier, and Yves Saint Laurent crafted suits and skirt suits that wore like armor—shoulders were exaggerated and padded, double-breasted silhouettes made a figure loom larger than it was, and peplums made the wearer even more imposing. That isn’t to say the look was androgynous; beadwork, fabrication, and bold colors differentiated the look from traditional men’s suits. Power suits didn’t whisper femininity, they roared it.
A term that no one can properly attribute, yuppie—an acronym standing for “young urban professional” or “young upwardly-mobile professional”— was notably used in a 1980 article in Chicago magazine. The label was divisive almost immediately; some resonated with the moniker, while others saw it as a marker of pretentiousness and bland taste. And at its worst, the yuppie signified thoughtless gentrification in the name of capitalism.
By the end of the decade, Vogue made its stance clear in an article in 1989: “The horrifying little yuppie suit (which, with its copycat male pinstripes and flop-doodle little-girl bow tie, did more for making women look stuffy and drab than, as intended, male and "powerful”) is now, thank the gods of Seventh Avenue, on the endangered species list.”
Nonetheless (and whether fashion liked it or not), the look had a chokehold on the 1980s. 1984’s tongue-in-cheek The Yuppie Handbook outlined it all—for women, Ralph Lauren skirt suits, a pussy-bow blouse, a Coach bag, and running shoes instead of pumps. For men, a pinstriped three-piece suit, a Rolex, a Burberry trench, and a squash racquet. Essentially, a combination of “timeless” closet staples.
Another take on the Yuppie look (and one more celebrated by Vogue) was crafted by Ralph Lauren, who took the collegiate-Americana look to the next level by mining quintessentially American fashions from the Southwest and fusing them with the traditions of the English gentry. If the yuppie look lacked imagination, the preppy Ralph Lauren look was fueled by fantasy—and polo shirts.
“Hotter than hot. Narrower than narrow. More body-conscious than any body could be. Designer Azzedine Alaïa, the newest name on the fashion horizon…has already captured the imagination of French fashion watchers. And now, he’s wooing Americans…with clothes that underscore the natural beauty, the natural drama of the body,” wrote in Vogue’s December 1982 issue.
Alaïa, who was dubbed the King of Cling with his Lycra-infused body sculpting dresses, was heavily inspired by athleticwear; his pieces featured ribbed crew-necks and cuffs and racerbacks sleeves. The look was hot-hot and Alaïa wasn’t the only designer capitalizing on the body-con. Donna Karan, who launched her own label in 1984 after making a name for herself designing for Anne Klein, was also wrapping women in cling-wrap-like dresses. Meanwhile, Norma Kamali was also borrowing from gymwear; her Sweats collection in 1981 fashioned French terry into gathered midi skirts, elegant raglan-sleeved sweater dresses, and capes. Over in Italy, the body was being celebrated by Gianni Versace, who was just getting started with his fashion vision.
With a booming economy and new wealth creation in the Middle East, couture had a new wind in the 1980s. Saint Laurent was still holding court at his label, Karl Lagerfeld was appointed to revive the house of Chanel in 1983, and newcomers to the couture scene ensured couture continued to dominant the machinations of the fashion system—Christian Lacroix (his tutu-inspired skirts for fall-winter 1988 were much-talked-about), Emanuel Ungaro, and Gianfranco Ferré.
Lagerfeld’s impact on Chanel was immediate—it took all but one season. Vogue’s June 1983 issue writes, “Suddenly, everyone is talking about Chanel. One of the reasons—Karl Lagerfeld, now the designer for Chanel Couture.”
Commingling with the decade’s power suits and body-con dresses was a whole new genre of fashion emanating out of London. Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren reinvented themselves from Punk to New Romantic. Their highly-lauded 1981 “Pirate” collection, which was a flamboyant, unisex collection that riffed on the 19th-century dandy, set the tone; it featured blousy, ruffled shirting in squiggly prints and tricorn hats.
The collection seemed to kick-start a look (a melding of Punk’s bricolage styling and Glam Rock effeminacy) that was embraced by London’s club kids with open arms—think Boy George and the theatrical Leigh Bowery.
A few years later, in 1984 came John Galliano’s fashion-history-making senior thesis collection for Central Saint Martins, dubbed “Les Incroyables,” which was inspired by the fashion of revolutionary France. With a cockade-inspired color palette and a layering of waistcoats over blouses over light-colored breeches, the collection captured a moment in time and catapulted Galliano onto the global fashion stage.
Other designers pushing out the New Romantics look were Rifat Ozbek, Martin Kidman, and Stephen Jones.
The 1980s saw the continued celebration of Issey Miyake, Comme des Garçons’ Rei Kawakubo, and Yohji Yamamoto. Each designer had a unique point of view but shared a methodology that flipped fashion on its head. Concept was key, technology was employed, and convention went out the window.
Though Miyake launched his line in 1970, Comme de Garçons was founded in 1969, and Yohji Yamamoto in 1972, by the 1980s, this crop of designers had conquered Paris.
Standout moments include Issey Miyake’s red plastic bustier, the finale of his fall 1980-81 collection; Jean-Michel Basquiat walking the Comme des Garçons Homme Plus spring 1987 show in a tunic-length double-breasted jacket; and Yohji Yamamoto’s red-tulle bustle coat for fall-winter 1986-87.
The idea was to provoke thought—not sex, and Vogue had its thoughts in September’s 1983 issue.
“This year’s clothes from Japan and their offspring—often dark, intentionally droopy, oversized— inevitably inspire conversation. Some of it is rabidly for, some heatedly against. People are saying, at various times: Japanese clothes are a fluke, an influence, an evolution; a new way of looking at layering, deep coloring, natural fabrics, big shapes. But are they affecting what we ll be wearing?...[they] are going to ease into the mainstream, and we won’t even recognize them. Then evolve—as all clothes do—into memory.”
A fitness craze took over in the 1980s. A range of Vogue headlines from the decades spoke to the public’s curiosity and fascination with health: 1982’s “Exercise: How to Start,” 1988’s “Should Pregnant Women Exercise?,” 1985’s “How Female Execs Exercise,” and 1988’s “No Sweat Exercise?”
Meanwhile, clothing labels were pumping out clothing made for working out (Lycra body suits were worn over leggings in punchy colors and were accessorized with leg warmers and sweatbands) and celebrities started cashing in with workout videos. Released in 1982, Jane Fonda’s workout video became one of the best-selling VHS tapes of all time.
Vivienne Westwood, Comme des Garçons’ Rei Kawakubo, Yohji Yamamoto, Donna Karan, John Galliano, Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Claude Montana, Emanuel Ungaro, Thierry Mugler, Christian Lacroix, Jean Paul Gaultier, Emanuel Ungaro, Geoffrey Beene, Ralph Lauren, Bill Blass, Stephen Burrows, Oscar de la Renta, Anne Klein, Sonia Rykiel, Missoni, Chloé, Kenzo, Issey Miyake, Giorgio Armani, Valentino, Betsey Johnson, Mary McFadden, Marc Bohan for Christian Dior, Zandra Rhodes, Bob Mackie, Perry Ellis, Giorgia Armani, Patrick Kelly
Men’s Trends of the 1980s
Though decadent for women, 1980s fashion for men was far more sober. The disco swagger of the 1970s was quickly phased out as fashion fell for classic tailoring. Giorgio Armani’s wardrobe for Richard Gere in 1980’s American Gigolo had men clamoring to de-flare their pants and shrink their once oversize collars. The look was sleek. For these men, fashion was dictated not by Seventh Avenue but Wall Street.
But men could dabble in a variety of trends, which often mirrored female fashion (or vice versa). Men’s power suiting was typically pinstriped and double-breasted with wide lapels and ties. They could embrace yuppie-prep in khaki pants and collegiate knitwear.
The 1980s saw the rise of hip-hop; the genre not only burst onto the scene, it redefined it. Hip-hop wasn’t just a musical style, it was a movement with its own look—Harlem’s Dapper Dan was outfitting LL Cool J, The Fat Boys, Jam Master Jay and Big Daddy Kane, and more. Kangol bucket caps, gold chains, acid-wash jeans, and jogging suits (Run DMC was partial to Adidas tracksuits) became hallmarks of the hip-hop style that would evolve and influence fashion as the decade progressed.
In the Culture
In 1981, Lady Diana Spencer married Prince Charles in an extravagant wedding dress with leg-of-mutton sleeves designed by David and Elizabeth Emanuel. The dress defined wedding dress styles for the next decade, but beyond that, Princess Diana’s style—every look, every sartorial choice, even the arrangement of the hair on her head—was highly noted and copied. That same year, MTV arrived on the scene and music was consumed in a whole new way.
Madonna became a music icon and a fashion icon with her thrifted eclecticism in the 1985 film Desperately Seeking Susan. Meanwhile, teen culture boomed with just-for-them flicks like The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink.
Vogue World: Paris will pair select sports—cycling, gymnastics, tennis, taekwondo, fencing, and break dancing, among others-with French fashion from every decade since 1924. The show will showcase French designers, current and past, as well as houses that historically present their collections in Paris.
For front row tickets, email paris@vogueworld.com
