Threadbare: Fashion’s Future is Fraying Under Trump 2.0
For fashion students right now, “the future” feels less like a runway and more like a closed door. The 2025 Trump administration came in promising to “revive American values,” but we know what that really means: cutting off creative industries at the knees, tightening borders, and stifling the cultural oxygen that keeps this space alive.
If you're graduating this year, you already feel it. Internships are drying up. Entry-level jobs? Scarce. Brands that used to flood schools with calls for interns are suddenly silent. Between economic volatility and the administration’s nationalist trade policies, fashion houses are scaling back, focusing inward, and freezing external recruitment, especially for positions in design, media, and creative development.
It’s not just business, it’s ideology. The administration’s hostility toward global collaboration has choked off the international student pipeline, stripping schools of diverse voices and perspectives. In an industry that thrives on global influence, we're being told to create within borders that keep shrinking.
And then there’s DEI—the elephant in the room no one can ignore. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives weren’t just PR gloss for fashion schools. They shaped scholarships, mentorships, and the push to diversify an industry infamous for its gatekeeping.
But in the past six months, DEI programs are being gutted nationwide. Universities are facing federal pressure, grants tied to identity-based support are disappearing, and diversity-focused hiring is quietly dissolving. Even schools that positioned themselves as global creative hubs are feeling it. Without those programs, students from marginalized communities lose access, and the industry’s future loses perspective.
Fashion IS political. It thrives on ours differences: cultural, aesthetic, and ideological. When you strip that forum away under the guise of “neutrality,” you’re not protecting creativity, you’re sterilizing it.
Under the current administration, the stakes have changed. Protests in fabric form, whether it’s wearable slogans, subversive tailoring, or genderless silhouettes, are being monitored, diluted, or quietly discouraged. Some major fashion schools are already facing pressure to stay "neutral," but neutrality is a myth when the culture around you is collapsing.
Student-run shows, senior collections, editorials—what used to be spaces for critique and experimentation are being policed. Call it soft censorship, but the message is clear: keep it safe, keep it commercial, keep it quiet.
In the corporate corners of fashion, brands are treading lightly. With the government pushing “traditional values,” luxury houses are walking back bold campaigns. Streetwear with activist undertones? Not trending. Gender fluidity in major ad campaigns? Quietly shelved. And sustainability—a lifeline for many young designers—is on the chopping block under deregulation and anti-climate policies.
But we’re still working—tired, broke, and refusing to be silenced. Across cities like New York and Los Angeles, independent and student designers are staging off-schedule runway shows in alternative venues to present collections that challenge the status quo. On campuses, students at places like the FIT have organized protests and occupied museum spaces to link fashion with broader social justice issues. Meanwhile, magazines are experiencing a revival as a grassroots medium for sharing personal stories and political viewpoints beyond social media’s constraints. Online, hashtags like #PayUpInclusiveCasting and #FashionForJustice rally young creatives and activists to demand more diverse representation and fair labor practices in the industry. Despite financial and institutional pressures, this generation of designers refuses to play it safe—they’re creating boldly, building new platforms, and designing in defiance. The industry may be afraid of what’s next, but we’re not.
XOXO, The Fashion Stock Market
Cover Photo: Mike McQuade/The Atlantic
Editor: Annaliese Persaud
