We’ve seen this dress before. In an era where nothing is new but everything is making a comeback, fashion has found itself in a tug-of-war between paying homage and pressing rewind. Archival fashion resurrects the past in its purest form, while referential fashion repurposes it with a contemporary lens. But when does a reference become a ripoff? When does nostalgia turn into laziness? And more importantly, is there a right way to do it?
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A familiar sight in fashion weeks and red carpets: models and stars swanning in looks that nod—or, in some cases, bow down—to the past. Sometimes, the effect is brilliant. Other times, it’s a sad impersonation of a moment long gone. The question looms: why go through the trouble of reimagining a look when the original is right there, waiting to be re-worn?

Well, because that’s easier said than done. Finding a pristine archival piece is like hunting a unicorn—rare, mythical, and expensive. Fashion houses don’t always keep everything, and the resale market is a battlefield where collectors, museums, and determined stylists wrestle for a piece of history. And even if they do get their hands on it, there’s the whole issue of wearability. Not every ‘90s Galliano dress is built to endure the demands of a high coverage event, where the risk isn’t just red wine spills, but the sheer weight of spectacle.
So, instead, designers try their best to recreate the past in a way that makes sense today. This leads us to referential fashion: a wink, a nudge, a tasteful plagiarism (or an outright theft, depending on who you ask). When done right, it’s clever. When done wrong, it’s a bad case of déjà vu.
The Referential Remix
Referential fashion doesn’t seek to preserve the original—it seeks to reinterpret it. It’s a designer’s way of engaging in a dialogue with the past, offering a response rather than a replica. Sometimes, it works in unexpected ways.


Take Ayo Edebiri at the 2025 Golden Globes, stepping out in a LOEWE look inspired by Julia Roberts’ iconic oversized Armani suit. A near one-to-one match, but with her own flourishes: auburn waves, a golden leaf tie, and, for some reason, grills. It wasn’t particularly groundbreaking, but it had just enough spin to avoid looking like a last-minute Halloween costume.


Then there’s the other side of the coin—when a reference is too close for comfort. Jeremy Scott recently called out Dior for allegedly lifting a design from his 1998 Spring/Summer collection, a piece currently displayed at the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art. The controversy stems from Anya Taylor-Joy wearing the Dior look at The Gorge premiere, where the actress, perhaps unknowingly, struck a pose that only highlighted the similarities. A case of inspiration or imitation? The internet remains divided, but at the end of the day, they’re wings. How much gatekeeping can one do over a silhouette that’s been in every mythology textbook since forever?

Still, the best referential fashion pieces respect the balance between reverence and reinvention. Case in point: Demi Moore’s custom Schiaparelli at the 2025 Critics Choice Awards. A sleek black gown with a laced-up back, mirroring the stitches her character sewed herself in The Substance while extracting stabilizer fluid out of her body. It was referential, it was conceptual, and above all, it was fun—proof that when done with intent, a reference can be more than a copy, but also a conversation.
The Allure of the Archive
On the other hand, archival fashion doesn’t flirt with the past—it fully commits. These are the actual garments, sourced from deep within fashion’s treasure chests (or from the hands of private collectors who treat them like the Crown Jewels). It’s vintage, but with a pedigree that makes it a power move.

Kim Kardashian learned the hard way that archival fashion comes with responsibilities. At the 2022 MET Gala, she wore Marilyn Monroe’s original “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” dress by Bob Mackie, an iconic relic of Hollywood history. The world gasped. Experts panicked. Conservationists issued statements. The Kardashians’ Hulu cameras caught the behind-the-scenes chaos as assistants shoved Kim into the dress. Zippers strained, fabric whimpered, and Kim swaddled in a makeshift fur stole for damage control and last-minute improvisation. The moral of the story is: that some relics belong in a museum.

But archival fashion isn’t always a disaster waiting to happen. Zendaya’s Dune: Part Two premiere look, an original sci-fi Mugler from the archives, proved that sometimes, the past is the future. It was exaggerated, dramatic, and perhaps nonsensical for a film with zero robots, but it had the one thing archival fashion guarantees: authenticity.
How to Do It Right?
There’s no crime in looking to the past—fashion is, after all, a cyclical beast. But whether one chooses to honor an era through an original piece or reinterpret it with a contemporary touch, the execution matters.
Referential fashion works best when it isn’t a carbon copy. A little irreverence, a new perspective, or an unexpected styling choice can turn what could have been a rerun into a reboot worth watching. Meanwhile, archival fashion should be handled with the same care as an Old Master painting. If it’s too fragile to be worn, then maybe, just maybe, it should stay behind glass.

Trends now burn out faster than they begin, and simplicity has given way to maximalism. In this anti-quiet luxury era—where the real trend is having none at all—originality has never been more valuable. If history has taught us anything, it’s that the best tribute isn’t repetition, but reinvention. Otherwise, we’re all just waiting for someone to wear that dress again.
Photos: LOUIS VUITTON and GIVENCHY (via Instagram); WHAT THE FROCK (via Reddit)