At New York Fashion Week 2024, inclusive artistry shined. The launched-in-Los-Angeles brand Collina Strada, led by designer Hillary Taymour, showcased a vibrant and empowering Autumn/Winter 2024 collection, aptly titled “STRONGER.” The collection, nicknamed “Collina’s Gym,” emphasizes powerful feminine energy, with Taymour herself describing her work as “swole.” Some of the models carried dumbbell-shaped squash and pumpkins in a whimsical touch that fit the garments’ animated patterns and diverse color palette, which ranged from rustic greens to sunny, saturated reds. The models’ silhouettes were also varied, from buff women who flexed to juxtapose the tighter garments they wore, to a model who used a wheelchair.
One of Collina Strada’s most show-stopping moments was when a pregnant model came down the runway wearing an open button-up shirt dress and lacy shorts. Her neutral expression added an air of determination as the audience’s gaze held on every last swish of her dress. This isn’t the first time a model has advertised a catwalk while expecting, but it was the first time I witnessed it aware of its significance live.
Taymour first approached New York-based designer Maddie Moon about the possibility of making her modeling debut when she was barely showing. In an interview with Vogue, Moon explained that she “felt comfortable doing it because (she knew) it (wasn’t) a stunt — Hillary constantly designs clothing for people who are typically overlooked by fashion.” Taymour routinely checked in with Moon before the show to ask if she felt “sexy” and “strong.” Ultimately, Taymor’s comprehensive vision and attentive care led to an amazing performance.
It is nothing new for modern fashion imagery to uplift pregnant women, from Demi Moore on the transformative 1991 cover of Vanity Fair to Beyoncé’s Renaissance-inspired photo album collaboration with Awol Erizku, which shattered Instagram records for most-liked posts within eight hours. But walking the runway is a whole other beast: The power that one holds for one ephemeral moment when everyone’s eyes are on them is filled with an almost indescribable liberty and emotion. This one being is briefly the center of the universe.
That sounds dramatic, but I cannot overstate the prestige of this role. Unlike in static photographs and other visuals, the stimuli of movement brings another dimension to the portrayal of pregnancy. On a runway, pregnant women are capable and carry influence; their pregnancy isn’t a hindrance but rather an extension of themselves and an energetic representation of motherhood.
Intrinsically, the runway is a dynamic platform that encourages personality through kineticism. Although the clothes are technically what’s on display, choosing who wears those clothes sends an authoritative message: this is what society deems beautiful and worthy of our total attention. When I was little, I looked up to the magnetic women who I saw in fashion shows and strove to imitate their aura. I sassily flipped scarves over my neck and thirsted over garish Justice clothes, hoping to spread a deliciously chic infection to every breathing organism in the room. Internally, I still carry the remnants of my younger self who yearned to have the impact of these women so much that it hurt.
That is to say, I know the elusive hold runway models have on audiences everywhere. My shock upon seeing Moon confidently strut while heavily pregnant is proof that promoting more pregnant women is a must. Sure, it took me off guard because models aren’t normally visibly pregnant, but I was especially stunned to see a bare pregnant stomach on full display, another deliberate choice made by Taymour. Initially, I felt aversion. After placing this feeling, I was horrified at myself. Besides the occasional megahit photoshoots that debut every year or so, I don’t associate pregnant women with any fashion trends. Maternity clothes can be perceived as drab, droopy and unflattering, making pregnant women appear this way too. My involuntary response was a reflection of society’s struggle to not only accept pregnant women as appealing, but our consistent rejection of them as conduits for power.
Fashion is an evolving medium, but the range of silhouettes has been stagnant for far too long. Body positivity means different things to different people, but pregnant people have consistently been kept out of the conversation. While pregnancy is only a temporary part of someone’s life, it is a time of intense emotions, possible trauma and overall heightened experience. Life is beautiful, and carrying life within oneself is a beautiful process.
There are aspects of pregnancy that our society appreciates. From the strength it takes to carry a child for nine months to the demanding lifestyle restrictions that must be adhered to, these mental and physical burdens are often acknowledged and lauded. But pregnant women aren’t valued when it comes to external beauty, which doesn’t express their true worth.
I hate that my first instinct is to view pregnant women as irrelevant in beauty and fashion spaces, and I wonder if my perspectives regarding motherhood and beauty would be different had I been exposed to pregnant models as a child. Expecting mothers take a hiatus from our minds, only to return to the spotlight to face critics who hound them for not bouncing back faster.
Society needs to be comfortable with seeing pregnant women in spaces that emphasize exterior beauty, empowerment, trends and style. It’s high time we redefined the concepts of motherhood and beauty from two separate circles into a venn diagram.
Daily Arts Contributor Tara Wasik can be reached at tarawas@umich.edu.