I know exactly what some people think when they hear “digital fashion.” They think of a flashy trend from a couple of years ago that supposedly lived, peaked, and disappeared all within “a summer”. They think of floating garments on Instagram that no one knew how to wear, NFT dresses that made no sense outside Twitter, or the infamous metaverse moment everyone rushed into and then abandoned the moment sentiment changed.
And I understand why the collective instinct is to dismiss it. We’re living through a moment where half of Gen Z is trying to escape their screens. “Bathroom camping” became a micro-trend because people needed somewhere small and quiet to breathe. Luxury resorts now sell phone-free holidays as the ultimate privilege. There’s data everywhere showing how deeply people crave presence, groundedness, and real-world connection again.
So now, the logical question may be, how can someone still believe in digital fashion when the culture seems to be moving in the opposite direction?
Well, for me, the answer begins with two elements. One, I am crazy, and two, I believe we are living inside a paradox.
On one side, the desire for physical connection has never been stronger. People are exhausted from overstimulation. Nervous systems are overcharged. The constant flow of notifications, the pressure to always be reachable, the blurriness between online and offline life, and all the other elements that are so overwhelming have reached a breaking point. The rise of digital detox culture, in my eyes, is nothing more than a cultural correction. It’s a pendulum swinging back from a decade of too much.
But pendulums don’t swing to an extreme and freeze there. They eventually settle into balance. And that balance, which is not the extreme, is where the future is forming.
At the same time, the world is talking about slowing down, another movement, known as artificial intelligence, is accelerating beneath the surface, and it is transforming the fashion industry from the inside out. It’s happening quietly, as not many people talk about it, see it, or even realize it, but decisively.
Fashion designers are already working with AI as their new creative partner. Tools like Fashion Diffusion allow them to generate hundreds of fabric simulations in minutes, with textures, draping, and lighting that look indistinguishable from real photography. Zalando now produces the majority of its editorial images using AI, cutting weeks-long shoots into days of iteration. Tommy Hilfiger has experimented with fully AI-generated micro-collections. Entire lines are sometimes conceptualized digitally before a single piece of fabric is even cut. What this means is that the average designer now has access to capabilities that would have required entire teams and massive budgets just five years ago, and consumers are already interacting with fashion that has been touched by AI at nearly every stage of its journey from concept to closet. Fashion isn’t waiting for anyone’s permission to evolve. It’s already moving.
But none of this is the real reason I’m still bullish on digital fashion. The real reason comes from something deeper, something that is more, if not fully, human.
Fashion has always been about identity. About expressing who we feel we are, who we wish we were, or who we want to be seen as. It’s the closest thing humans have to an everyday form of art direction, consciously or not. And in the digital era, where so much of our communication and exhibition happens through screens and profiles and surfaces, clothing as a language of identity is going to transform.
Digital fashion will never replace physical fashion. It was never meant to. What digital fashion is doing is adding a new layer of self-expression.
Everything I’ve observed in recent fashion weeks points toward this shift. Paris Fall-Winter 2024/25 featured sculptural silhouettes that looked engineered for digital rendering. Milan showed bold exaggerations in shape and texture, garments with architecture-like qualities that felt they were born in software long before they became fabric. All of these garments weren’t outfits meant to be worn in everyday life, yet, but artifacts of a world trying to break its physical limits. And when a system reaches the edge of its limitations, it either collapses or evolves. And it’s my belief that fashion is evolving.
But this evolution isn’t only technological, but also cultural, emotional, and psychological layers that I believe are way more significant for our human experience. We are going to reach a point where physical fashion will not be able to fully meet the desire for personal expression in digital spaces. Most people will want more and more to stand out online, but when most of the garments start to look the same, and when every tool allows anyone to create anything, what makes expression unique? Digital fashion does.
It creates a new frontier where imagination isn’t restricted by materials, weight, physics, price, or logistics. It allows for silhouettes that defy the body, textures that shift with emotion, and garments that respond to movement in ways no physical material could. It offers the kind of expression that physical fashion simply can’t achieve alone. I have a saying that true digital fashion goes beyond the body, exploring shapes and aesthetics we once never imagined as wearable.
And yes, even though people are seeking offline experiences more than ever, a trend that will keep growing and isn’t yet visibly spotted by everyone, we are not abandoning digital spaces. Our lives are too intertwined with them. We might step away for weekends or evenings or mental clarity, but we always return because technology, beyond being a tool, is a modern arena of connection, even though it has made us less connected in certain ways.
Which means the question of how we present ourselves in digital environments is more relevant than ever. And that brings me to the missing piece, the part that almost no one talks about enough, maybe because they believe it to be delusional, are skeptical, or any other reason. The reason presenting ourselves digitally will become even more important is that digital spaces themselves are evolving beyond flat screens toward something more immersive and integrated with our physical reality. We won’t be staying only on rectangular screens for too long, as I believe a part of the future is also spatial.
Whether through AR glasses, lightweight mixed-reality lenses, or whatever evolves beyond the Apple Vision Pro, we are heading toward a world where the digital layer blends seamlessly with the physical one. It will be our extension of reality.
In ten years, it will feel normal to wear glasses that project information, art, interfaces, and, of course, clothing. We will wear physical garments for comfort and tactile pleasure, but the aesthetic we choose to present in digital layers may be something different, something fluid, something expressive in an entirely new way. Digital fashion becomes a second outfit, a second skin, a second layer of identity, one that coexists with our physical presence rather than replacing it.
Imagine walking into a cafe wearing a simple black sweater, but to people around you wearing AR glasses, your digital outfit appears layered with shifting textures, generative patterns, or sculptural silhouettes that are impossible to produce in fabric. The way we choose how we appear in different spaces, think professional, social, creative, will be akin to changing a playlist.
If phones replaced desktops and wearables replaced some phone functions, AR will replace the interface entirely. And when that happens, digital fashion will transform from a trend or niche idea into infrastructure, cultural language, and the visual layer of identity in a mixed-reality world.
I am aware that this may sound delusional to some people, but so was the idea that we’d all carry computers in our pockets, or that we’d trust strangers to drive us around based on an app rating. Every major shift in how humans interact with technology has seemed impossible until it became inevitable.
But even without AR, there’s a reason digital fashion matters, and that is democratization. The barriers of the fashion industry, such as money, connections, geography, and gatekeeping, collapse in the digital world. A young woman with curiosity and a laptop can design what would have required a full studio years ago. She can experiment, explore aesthetics, create worlds, build a community, and maybe, one day, take over a physical fashion house. I do not doubt that the next groundbreaking brand and creative director will emerge digitally first.
And here’s the economic reality that critics often miss when they question whether digital fashion has staying power. The infrastructure being built right now, the AI tools, and the skills being developed represent billions in investment and genuine commercial activity. Fashion brands aren’t experimenting with digital tools as a publicity stunt. They’re doing it because it saves money, reduces waste, speeds up production cycles, and gives them capabilities they’ve never had before. The commercial case for digital fashion isn’t about selling virtual sneakers for thousands of dollars. It’s about fundamentally changing how the entire industry operates, from design to marketing to consumer experience. The success stories are already here; they’re just not always labeled as digital fashion because they’ve become integrated into how fashion actually works.
So no, I don’t believe we’re heading toward a world where everything becomes digital and we abandon the physical world. And I also don’t believe we are returning to a romantic pre-digital era. I believe we are heading toward an “and” future.
A future where we take digital detox retreats and then return to digital spaces with intention. A future where we value slow fashion and also enjoy rapid digital experimentation. A future where we keep physical garments we love for decades and change our digital outfits three times a day depending on mood, context, or platform.
We are moving toward more balance. And in that balanced world, digital fashion will become essential. It solves sustainability issues. It democratizes creativity. It expands identity. It adapts to technology. It meets emotional needs. It fills the space between physical presence and digital expression. It does all that and much more.
Fashion has always evolved with the tools of its time (sewing machines to synthetic fabrics, to e-commerce). Digital fashion is simply the next chapter. And in fashion’s story, this chapter isn’t about replacing what came before, but about expanding what’s possible.
Maybe that sounds delusional to you, as it does to many. Maybe you think I’m betting on a trend that’s already peaked. But I’ve seen the technology, I’ve watched the runways, I’ve looked at the data, and I’ve thought about human nature. And all of them point in the same direction.
Digital fashion isn’t dead. It hasn’t even started yet.
So yes, I’m still bullish on it. And I think five years from now, you will be too.
Thank you! 🌹
Eduard 🌹
The Hidden I🌹 (Pronounced “Eye” or “I.” For the Seer. And the Seen.)
1 comment
I’ve been watching the conversation around digital fashion, and honestly, after seeing so many people feel overstimulated, after the metaverse moment crashed, the NFT outfits became a joke, and brands ran experiments they never followed through on, it's easy to conclude the obvious: Digital fashion is dead At least, that’s the story everyone tells But the truth, the real truth, is far more interesting, and far stranger, than that simple statement suggests. And it’s exactly what I explore in my latest essay: “Digital Fashion Is Dead” (And it’s not the death you think) Thank you!🌹 Eduard🌹 The Hidden I🌹 (Pronounced “Eye” or “I.” For the Seer. And the Seen.)