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043 Fashion is Obsessed With What’s Next. Ye is Still Obsessed With What He Started
DOC 011—07-26



Curiosity
: Is good taste overrated in fashion? 

Category: Essay

Photos: Whatever I found on Twitter. 



Ye has spent more than a decade designing the same world, and for some reason, Fashion keeps expecting him to change it. Maybe they’re the ones missing the point. 



It’s got to be a hollow feeling to be the most tasteful person in the room. Crazy take, but if you sit with it, it makes sense. 

To be the most tasteful person in the room suggests you’ve lived a life spent paying attention to what other people have already decided is good. You know all the right designers, the right references, the right proportions that are cycling back in; you’re so tuned in to what everyone else is doing in the world and what they want to do next. You have an excellent eye. 

But whose vision can you actually see? 

Do you even remember what your own vision was? 

Fashion hangs its hat on... that kind of intelligence? If we want to call it that. It rewards people for knowing what deserves attention, then quietly changes the criteria. Ye, meanwhile, has spent more than a decade making variations of the same alabaster colored garments. 





Three days ago, Ye made a surprise return to the runway in LA while premiering the new Yeezy Season 01 at his flagship DROAM 1 location on Beverly Blvd. The store and set design were done by Bianca Censori, Jack Skolnick, Gregory De Peña, Gianluca Padula Maltempo, Enrico Ricci, ALLWAHN, and Design Opera. This was his first major runway presentation since 2022, when his Paris show was the coming-out party of one of the worst chapters of his public life. 

This time, the spectacle is more revealed in his restraint, and the monastic environment guests were welcomed into. His wife Bianca Censori opened the show with a prayer. The models circled the mound. The clothes and colorways looked familiar. But you could see the evolution in his approach to the shape and fit of the garments. Instead of designing for a world that collapsed, the new collection feels like it belongs to a world that’s successfully rebuilt itself.



(Old Season 1)


OG 2015 Yeezy Season 1 was heavily distressed, layered, and a rejection of conventional luxury; themes mirrored in his casting and the life he was living at the time. The clothes come across as having history, as if picked up along a great exodus. We have dropped shoulders, elongated sleeves, oversized jackets, and all of that is contrasted by bodysuits, leggings, and a fit conversation to the other extreme of the spectrum. The body is treated like a supporting structure for the clothes themselves. I look at OG Season 1 as a conversation about clothes as a protective layer, and clothes as symbolic vulnerability; outerwear screams shelter and safe place, while the sheer bodysuits and garments argue for complete exposure. Together, they create a visual language that was jarring, displaced, a bit anonymous, and highly controversial. 


(New Season 01)

New 2026 Season 01 is stronger. Sturdier. Like an idea and vision more crystallized. The new collection has stronger outerwear pieces, and there’s more intention behind where volume begins and ends. The clinched leather coats, the cropped jackets, the play in proportions to give wearers longer visual leg lines- all of it very intentional. I see this new collection and see someone sculpting their already recognized silhouettes within more clearly defined frameworks. 


Highsnobiety described the collection as Yeezy sampling itself, which could be extremely accurate. If it is, something is captivating about someone returning to the fashion industry after four years of professional disgrace and apparently feeling no obligation to impress it with new ideas.

He called the collection Season 01.

The last major Yeezy runway collection was Season 9. 

Imagine having the audacity to disregard your own brand’s chronology.

Fashion tends to organize creativity around a very rigid expectation of progress. Every season must have a new proposition, even when the proposition is just the rediscovery of something that sold well twenty or thirty years ago. The industry constructed this elaborate mythology around novelty while, at the same time, operating one of the world’s best recycling businesses, creative directors included. 

I think what makes Ye so compelling is that he understood this economy years ago. His unique achievement is that he’s made his own taste resistant to fashion’s expiration date. The washed-out earth tones, the dramatic volumes, the clothes feeling like they're designed for another civilization- all of these things are so recognizably Yeezy. 



Repetition sustained long enough becomes a form of ownership. 



Is he a genius for this approach? I feel like that’s not the point anymore. I think it’s more interesting to consider the possibility that his stubbornness has accomplished something many technically superior and more industry-supported designers struggle to manifest. He made his preferences and aesthetic choices feel inevitable.

Think about how easily the Fashion industry confuses discernment with imagination. Someone can have the best references on their mood board, cast the perfect models, produce an immaculate campaign, and leave behind absolutely nothing worth remembering. And that’s my indictment against the obsession over having good taste. Good taste will produce good work more than bad work by a mile. But it will also produce a ton of work that looks like other good work. 

Without conviction, there’s no point. 

Conviction demands that a person commit to the idea before there’s any convincing evidence their idea deserves their commitment in the first place. Much of what eventually becomes culturally interesting begins life as something embarrassing, excessive, or apparently stupid. But having good taste is safe. And people like safe. Most people would rather be considered tasteful today than risk being understood ten years from now.  



Ye is almost constitutionally incapable of making that kind of deal. 

His wife, Bianca Censori, has been treated by much of the public as just a physical manifestation of his imagination. Yet, in her March Vanity Fair interview, she described her much-discussed nudity as an artistic preoccupation of her own. She completely rejects the idea that her husband just controls her appearance. Her account only adds fuel to the mythology of Ye’s single authorship for a life well-lived. The world he occupies contains other people with their own convictions, even if the public frequently struggles to distinguish between their agency and his influence. Maybe what makes their relationship so interesting to people is that neither of them feels obligated to make their intentions entirely intelligible to outsiders. 

Uncertainty and the unknown are threats in the age of information and AI, so two people who live and create without needing to be understood come across as foreign entities to the system. And as such, our own human instincts are captivated. 




Conviction itself is a double-edged sword that can have the appalling capacity to flatter the one wielding it. Ye’s antisemitism, Nazi praise, and the damage he inflicted on others can’t just be brushed off as the side effects of being creatively independent. And graciously, he doesn’t expect it to be either. I don’t think he’s under the illusion that his apologies automatically make the problems disappear. Carl Jung wrote, “No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell.” I think about that as I look at Ye’s career having these higher-than-high points, and still, these moments of hellish falls from grace. But the courage to crawl your way back out every time is undeniable. And for Ye, he returns with stadium shows and a new runway collection that has people like Maxwell Adler at Vanity Fair say, “One reason for Ye’s continued commercial viability is, of course, his artistic prowess.” They go on to say, “Whatever one thinks of Ye personally, his influence on fashion and music is undeniable. The muted colors, exaggerated proportions, and futuristic sneakers that helped define Yeezy have spread through the industry. His fingerprints are all over contemporary fashion, including the celebrity brands that followed in his wake.” 





The thing with conviction is it can liberate an artist from the tyranny of consensus, but it offers no haven against that artist's own blind spots or most self-destructive tendencies. 

You can chew gum and walk at the same time. 

An artist can be wonderfully independent and still be catastrophically wrong. 

And we love it. Fashion as an industry loves it. Fashion has always worshipped difficult personalities, especially if their difficult personalities contributed to bottom lines and allowed the industry to hum along with little to no adjustments necessary. 

The reason Ye’s clothes continue to interest people even after so much of his reputation has collapsed is the same reason his stadium shows are being packed out. He created a world he insists into existence despite the lack of direct investment or support from the current arbiters of fashion or the music industry.

Whether or not that world is commercially viable is irrelevant at this point. 

He’s doing it. 

Regardless of the industry’s embrace, he’s doing exactly what he said he would do. 

In contrast to that, I think about the extraordinary number of talented people who have spent years refining their taste, waiting for the right opportunity to demonstrate it. Their work is immaculate. Their references are impeccable. Everyone agrees they’re talented.

And you still can’t tell what they believe in. 




For more writing on taste, access, ownership, and the economy of culture, find me at The Corner on Substack.
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