Let's Talk About The Pyer Moss Article...
Tahirah Hairston's latest reporting in The Cut's fashion issue opens up larger questions about fashion criticism and tokenism within the fashion industry.
Bright and early on Monday morning, The Cut dropped its fashion issue. And within the issue was a bombshell of an article by Tahirah Hairston: “What Happened to Pyer Moss?” If you haven’t already, STOP and read her article.
Pyer Moss’s founder Kerby Jean Raymond was lauded for being a promising designer in the industry. He was on course to change the industry and was one of the few Black designers makes waves on the scene.
Arguably, his meteoric rise helped pave the way for others who are currently experiencing widespread success. Kerby Jean Raymond was appointed global creative director at Reebok, received funding and partnerships from Kering, and won the CFDA Fashion Fund. Not to mention, he’s dressed a wide range of celebrities including Vice President Kamala Harris, Gabrielle Union-Wade, Tracee Ellis Ross, and Former First Lady Michelle Obama.
And yet, he and his label have all but disappeared. This isn’t uncommon for emerging brands (especially when it comes to non-white designers) in the industry. But it’s certainly a curiosity that has been looming in everyone’s mind.
Tahirah Hairston's article has extremely fair and balanced reporting. I expected nothing less; her article “Why Couldn’t Anyone Cancel Dolce and Gabbana” is another incredible piece and must-read—but it has been some time since the industry was given a great piece of journalism.
As usual, and understandably so, my Twitter timeline was in shambles. But there was also some important discourse going on about the wider issues addressing the fashion media industry and tokenism:



A Central Saint Martins Womenswear alumni said to me over Instagram DMs:
The traditional fashion press hypes up super young people extremely fast (the whole you have to make it young and fast idea) and then business executives put them in positions they have no experience to handle and then they wonder why they couldn’t deliver financially.
The situation reminds me of Elizabeth Holmes (disclaimer, I am in no way shape or form accusing or insinuating that Kerby Jean Raymond is a criminal fraud) and the aftermath of other women no longer getting venture capital in Silicon Valley. Part of me wonders if something similar will be the case for other emerging designers.
Furthermore, and regardless of anyone’s personal feelings, we need more diversity in the fashion industry. Tokenism is rampant and most designers are put on a pedestal for "doing something different". Because they’re human, most don't always measure up and end up taking most of the fall.
A larger overarching issue is that this type of tokenism in the industry isn’t beneficial to anyone. It often detracts from fashion—which as much as we like to think otherwise—is a business. This isn’t the first nor will be the last time a designer has been caught up in an artistic bubble.
A fashion journalist, whose opinion I highly respect, raised a good point:
Being a designer is extremely hard and the profession is too glamourized. Too much pressure is put on individuals and they don’t even have the chance to just be themselves and explore their creative work.
Kerby Jean Raymond made mistakes and treated his former employees badly, there’s no disputing that. But he’s certainly not the only one.
While getting my Master's in Fashion Journalism at Central Saint Martins last year, I spend 5 months researching and writing a fashion media market report titled, “Fashion Critics: How Honest Can They Be In Today’s Digital Age?”
This project explored my personal interest in fashion criticism and looked at the historical origins of fashion critics, the prevalence of media consolidation, the digitization of the media landscape, the punishing/banning of critics by brands for their honesty, and the realities of a free fashion press. (Business of Fashion published a fantastic article by Colin McDowell in 2013 that is evergreen: “In Defense of a Free Fashion Press”.)
While doing my research, I came across a paragraph in “Fashioning Cultural Criticism: An Inquiry into Fashion Criticism and its Delay in Legitimization, Fashion Theory” by Francesca Granata, which particularly stuck out to me:
As Lars Svendsen points out, critical fashion writing and the developing of a robust field of fashion criticism has been hindered by the fashion press’s cozy relation with the industry. [...] Another hindrance to the formation of fashion criticism is the fashion industry’s general lack of tolerance for negative criticism, which often translates to the practice of fashion houses banning fashion critics from shows in retaliation for negative press—a practice that, as Svendsen points out, does not have a counterpart in other fields of criticism.
Call me a conspiracy theorist all you want, but most of the major problems I see happening in the fashion industry stem from a lack of any real fashion criticism. And once again, I believe this is one of the larger issues at play here. We need more fashion criticism without repercussions. Fashion criticism should not be taken so personally. It’s not about being purposefully mean or having a vendetta. Anyone who truly loves fashion and writes about it is coming from a place of wanting the industry to be better and to do better.

As a friend who studied with me at Central Saint Martins so poignantly summed up the entire situation:
As much as Pyer Moss represents something important, we, as an audience, have to keep them honest and accountable like we would any other brand. Otherwise aren't we undercutting their importance and ability to do better?
Some people took the article as “a calculated hit job”, and others saw more nuanced conversation surrounding the Pyer Moss discourse. While people in the industry may see it in a different light than those not in it, critical thinking is still paramount.


Tahirah Hairston took to her Instagram stories to give a response to the critiques about her article and reporting:
Every day, I wish more people had critical thinking skills and understood journalism. There are often anonymous sources in stories like this. Not because people don’t stand by what they say or don’t want to say it with their chest but because they legally can’t. But this doesn’t mean that there wasn’t a fact-checker to confirm the facts, a recording, and a vetting of my legal. Sorry, but publications with ASMEs and Pulitzers aren’t out here just free-balling it. This isn’t a Medium post or Patreon. I think everyone is entitled to their opinion but ignorance shouldn’t be one of them.
Lindsay Peoples, Editor-in-Chief of The Cut, similarly responded via Instagram stories:
The Cut/New York Magazine is a journalistic institution, not a blog, not a podcast, and there’s a difference—which means fact-checkers, lawyers, and many editors are involved. We are not new to this—remember the “What It's Really Like to Be Black and Work in Fashion” where I interviewed hundreds of Black people in fashion? Again journalism! Read the criticism we’ve given to designers of all races that were just as fair and credible.
As someone with two degrees in the field, the accusations of The Cut “orchestrating a hit piece” couldn’t be further from the truth. Historically and to this day, fashion journalism is seen inherently as superficial and surface-level “soft journalism”.
One of the things people often forget is that most fashion journalists don’t participate in traditional reporting. Legacy fashion magazines such as Vogue, Elle, and Harper’s Bazaar don’t write profiles or exposés the same way general interest publications do. Mainly because they’re reliant on their advertiser obligations, their main source of income.
While Tahirah Hairston spent 3 months reporting on her article for The Cut, the turnaround time for most articles in fashion magazines is 3 hours. I appreciate and look up to writers and critics who put in the work to write and report on important industry stories—regardless of the backlash they face.