Why Models Don’t Smile: The Great Fashion Smile Conspiracy

Why did luxury banish the smile from the runway? We uncover the psychological strategy of exclusivity and argue for the return of authentic, human-centered functional fashion design.

The Great Fashion Smile Conspiracy: Why Models Look Miserable

I was scrolling through Instagram the other day and stopped at this vintage Dior photo from the ‘50s. The model was actually smiling—like, genuinely happy to be wearing this gorgeous dress. Photos from that era often showed models’ joyful expressions, a different approach to presenting fashion. It made me pause because… when was the last time I saw that?

Experts have said that historically models were told to smile to make the clothing feel more approachable and to make the clothes seem more accessible to everyday people. This led me down a rabbit hole into the history of emotional fashion and the question: When did fashion models become so serious-looking and why did the smile disappear from the runway?

A Happy History: When Fashion Used to Encourage the Smile

I went down this rabbit hole of old fashion footage and it’s amazing how different things were. Models in the ‘40s and ‘50s looked like they were having fun. They’d chat with clients, make eye contact, actually seem to enjoy the clothes they were presenting. The visual culture of the time shaped how fashion was experienced, with a focus on the models’ expressions and how they presented the garments.

Christian Dior said fashion should make you “dream and smile”. Imagine that philosophy today. A designer telling models to look happy? Crazy.

Back then fashion shows were intimate. You could touch the fabric, talk to the model presenting the clothes. It felt human.

The Rise of Heroin Chic: When Misery Became the Mood

If you’ve ever wondered why the world of high fashion suddenly stopped smiling and started staring into space, look no further than the 1990s and the rise of heroin chic. This was the era when fashion models stopped smiling and started looking like they’d just walked out of a moody indie film. The heroin chic trend—think pale skin, sunken eyes and a neutral expression that screamed “I’m too cool to care”—took over fashion shows, magazines and runways everywhere.Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons and other avant-garde designers led the charge, and the smiling model became a fashion “no no”. In came a new breed of runway model who looked detached and mysterious. Suddenly the focus wasn’t on the joy of wearing beautiful clothes but on projecting an otherworldly sense of cool. Models like Kate Moss became icons of this look, walking the runways with an expression as neutral as it was unforgettable.

This wasn’t just about looks—it was a statement. The fashion industry was saying: fashion is serious business and if you want to be part of this world you’d better leave your smile at the door. Designers and magazines doubled down on this trend and heroin chic became the gold standard for high fashion. The idea was to create a sense of exclusivity and control with models embodying a kind of untouchable, almost fragile beauty.

Not everyone was on board. Critics argued that glorifying misery and emotional detachment sent the wrong message especially to young women looking up to these models. But the trend stuck and its influence can still be seen in the way some designers approach fashion shows and campaigns today. Even as the industry moves towards more diverse and expressive representations the legacy of heroin chic lingers—reminding us just how much power fashion has to shape our sense of self and the world around us.

As the industry evolves it’s interesting to see how designers reinterpret these trends sometimes blending the cool detachment of heroin chic with a renewed focus on personality and authentic expression. The story of heroin chic is a perfect example of how fashion isn’t just about clothes—it’s about the stories we tell, the moods we create and the culture we build, one runway at a time.

The Art Trap: When Exclusivity Replaced Enjoyment

Then the ‘60s happened and suddenly fashion wanted to be Art with a capital A. Yves Saint Laurent, Pierre Cardin—they started treating clothes like gallery pieces. This was rooted in a specific concept: the model’s serious and aloof expression was meant to embody a new, intellectual approach to fashion presentation. Which is brilliant but somewhere along the way we decided that art can’t be joyful?I don’t get it. Some of the most powerful art makes you feel good. Why did fashion choose cold over warm? The way models present themselves truly matters as it shapes the perception of the clothes and the brand’s identity.

Alexander McQueen’s shows were pure theatre—using emotion to serve a powerful narrative—many brands today have adopted the blank aesthetic of avant-garde trends without that deeper storytelling purpose. Essentially the shift from joyful to serious expressions reflects a broader change in the industry’s visual communication strategy.

The Luxury Mind Game: Exclusion as a Marketing Strategy

I think I figured it out. Luxury brands realized something important about psychology:

• Smiling model = approachable = “Maybe I could afford this”

• Blank expression = exclusive, conveys status = “This is definitely out of my league”

It’s psychological strategy disguised as artistic vision. Miuccia Prada even said “the power of fashion lies in restraint”. The job of the model is to convey exclusivity and status through their expression which is believed to be more effective for luxury branding. Make people feel slightly inadequate and they’ll desire your product more. Smart? Absolutely. Manipulative? Also yes. This is in direct contrast to our belief in functional fashion design that prioritizes the wearer’s utility and confidence.

What Was Lost: The Intimidation of Perfection

Here’s what bothers me: fashion used to make you feel good. Now it makes you feel… less than. When I watch old Dior films the models look like they genuinely love what they wear and their smiling face conveys warmth and approachability. That’s infectious.

Now? The focus has shifted completely to the garments and everyone looks like they’re being held hostage by couture. The issues I see:

• Everything looks the same: Blank stare, perfect posture, zero personality.

• It’s intimidating: Fashion becomes something to worship from afar not enjoy.

• We forgot the human element: There’s a real person under those clothes who might actually like wearing them.

I’m seeing more diverse faces, real skin textures, genuine expressions. Pierpaolo Piccioli at Valentino gets it: “Beauty is not uniform. It’s the courage to be seen”. There’s hope this renewed interest in expressive, joyful fashion will continue to grow and influence not just the runway but the broader lifestyle and culture around fashion.

The future of fashion is about balance. We believe in clothes that make you feel extraordinary not inadequate. That’s the core of Wearable Futurism—fashion that respects the person inside the design. The return of expressive models on the catwalk is like the supermodel era of Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell and Cindy Crawford whose charisma and personality transformed the walk and presence on the runway.

Maybe it’s time for fashion to remember clothes are supposed to make us feel extraordinary not inadequate. And honestly? I’m ready for fashion to smile again. Explore our collection and rediscover the joy of modern, expressive design.