One Gen Z’s reaction to New York Fashion Week, which just ended, per The Mercer Edition: “You mean New York algorithm week?”

A lot of “NYFW is lame/over” content — much of it downright hilarious — gained traction this season.

When something like fashion week becomes a parody of itself, that usually means the particular iteration of that thing has peaked. The thing that has peaked, in this case — like ye olde Birkin unboxing content and flexing — is fashion week’s Instagram Age. Some well-dressed attendees still swan through events with their own camera people trailing them, like this is their own private 60 Minutes. But I genuinely think many in the business are tired of experiencing all of this for the purpose of others experiencing them experience it. They’re tired of parties designed to be clipped and posted like a podcast. They’re tired of stunt food that’s everywhere and seemingly just to be seen. They’re tired of stunt fashion and stunt spectacle. The fashion week flex is now cringe, and it’s great that we can all finally move on.

I went to a smattering of the NYFW events (working around the High Holidays), to suss out what might come after the Instagram Age of NYFW. I started at Adam Lippes, who held his presentation in his Fifth Avenue home that Architectural Digest described as part of “a mansion built for a coal baron in 1886.” It sort of looks like the interior of the Titanic, only his ceiling has a lot more sculpted grapes on it. Lippes loves interior design, and this collection was inspired by American prep, in particular, “one of Newport’s great houses.” In fact, the lovely head of PR Samantha, who showed me around, looked stunning in her Adam Lippes tiger-print skirt inspired by this chair fabric.

(We are seeing a LOT of tiger print so far and London hasn’t even started yet. I don’t know what this means, but I’m both excited and scared.)

Adam Lippes is a VIC brand that makes lovely clothes, powered by word-of-mouth via socialites in places like the Upper East Side and Dallas, whose personal brands include blowouts and tasteful facelifts. A space across from his home in the same building includes a private fitting room for clients to use when they come in to shop personally with Lippes, which is the definition of luxury service. (After the press event, the brand reserved time for clients to come in and, after that, their stylists.)

Unsurprisingly, Lippes has clienteling down. In the middle of the racks of dresses lay a spread fit for Bertha Russell, including croissants, whole figs, kumquats, and a honeycomb in a wooden box. Obviously, everyone was afraid to eat any of it. (One hero took a bite of the honeycomb.) Anticipating this, Lippes offered “bakery bags” so people could become one with the pastries in the privacy of their Lyft rides after the event. Private events for clients and their stylists are a key part of the week and I wonder if a lot of brands can stop bothering with the runway shows and just receive people grandly like this.

My next stop was Rachel Comey, a downtown “It” girl brand I've always liked (I really like her denim), where snacks included “banana and activated charcoal muffins.” Again, the food was immaculately styled and everyone was afraid to eat it, perhaps in part because it looked more like objets than something edible. Viral food is a blessing and a curse. The hot dogs that said “Celine” in mustard at a Reebok event circulated widely, but I could tell you nothing about the partnership other than the event had Celine hot dogs.

I loved Comey’s casting, which featured Stephanie Cavalli, who you may recognize from the Chanel runway. It was colorful and wearable and inspired by Rosalyn Drexler, artist-slash-writer-slash-professional wrestler. Comey was drawn to her, she told Vogue, as “a woman that you know had this interesting life.” An interesting life is not spent scrolling a phone. These clothes didn’t look like they were designed to be flaunted and consumed on a tiny screen.

The next night, I attended a dinner for my friend Eugene Rabkin’s book Torn (check out our podcast about it), which is all about how fashion has lost its creative might owing to corrosive forces like Bernard Arnault and Instagram Age. His guests agreed that Helmut Lang is the best designer maybe ever. (Apparently Lang, who’s now out of the business and working on his art, responds to IG DMs, should anyone reading this be that bold.) Phones mostly stayed tucked away and I don’t think anyone filmed any content to post.

I wondered if the future of fashion wasn’t at a traditional show at all, but rather, the “TikTok Luxury Resale Summit.” The idea here was to show off TikTok as a destination to buy secondhand luxury bags. TikTok gathered its authenticators with names like “Legit App” and “CheckCheck” and “Legit Mark.” (In case you’re wondering, “Legit Check” is another app that was not there.) One authenticator was doing a giveaway of a Fendi bag made with rabbit fur, so maybe the animal-rights protesters were at the wrong event?

Beyond an empty red carpet lit with ring lights, resellers clustered into a room and stood next to shelves filled with old handbags. I talked to one dude, Will, who posts under @foreignobjects. He had some deep-cut Balenciaga bags on his shelves that he said he buys wholesale from Japan. He said his average bag sale is $600 to $700. I asked him why he didn't have any Birkins or Kellys, and he said he sold more of those a few years ago, but now — Hermès burn incoming — “our customer is a little bit more value-driven.”

This TikTok event may have had more staff working than attendees. Fashion week is busy, sure, but I also don’t think anyone in the industry wants to admit the future may be dudes like Will sourcing old bags wholesale overseas and selling them on a bare-bones livestream.

I ended at the Fforme show. Frances Howie’s collection was minimal, wearable, and sleek, every look styled with flats. Guests wearing the current collection looked nice instead of silly. A lot of people there had fabulous tops with asymmetrical bits hanging down toward the floor that, on most people with less styling talent, would look like misbegotten tablecloths. How these people can make denim Bermuda cutoffs look great with kitten heels, I’ll never know.

Unfortunately, all anyone could talk about on the sidelines was the Steven Kolb altercation at Cos. The most viral moment of the week (which may end up being the most viral moment of the season) wasn’t something anyone tried to plant for all of us to post. While the incident was terrible, maybe this is good news for the industry. Maybe designers can stop trying to come up with stuff for us to Instagram because it’s cringe now. Maybe they can just get back, like Howie, to making great clothes.

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