Elizabeth Beggan Portfolio

In this new digital day and age, fashion influencers have stormed the streets and feeds with reviews that sell out products within hours. With the rise of apps like TikTok and Instagram paired with the decline of print media, are we surprised that influencers take the reins on reporting? What was once dominated by glossy front pages and snappy headlines is being eclipsed by influencers in this digital age.   

The digital age has altered the way we consume journalism and media, blurring the lines of what constitutes a professional journalist from an influencer. The shift of consuming media through journalists to influencers raises questions about where fashion journalism is headed and how traditional media outlets adjust to the ever-changing landscape.  

Before the digital age, print magazines were the undisputed beacons of fashion. Titles like Vogue, Elle, and Harper’s Bazaar were praised for their exclusive inside scoops on fashion dos and don’ts. Everything printed about trends, culture, and translating what was on the runway for readers was heavily curated and precise. Names like Anna Wintour, Grace Mirabella, and Robin Givhan were the original influencers, molding the industry into what it is today. Fashion journalists shaped the public’s perception of how consumers viewed the industry, trends, designers, and style.  

Fashion journalists captured culture; they were pioneers in setting trends, giving designers their start, and where fashion history was recorded. The pages held power; subscribers eagerly awaited opening their mailboxes to Vogue, which in turn opened the door to inspiration. Fashion is an unavoidable force that affects a person regardless of whether they follow trends or not. The plain plaid shirt a person wears was meticulously placed there by industry trends and those who dictate them.  

Social media has the power to spark protests, give undeserving people platforms, find cat killers, and now, birth the ultimate fashion influencer. Fashion influencers are creators who have built a large following based on their own opinions, outfits, trend predictions, and makeup routines. Through social media, they’re able to connect with audiences on a more humane level and dismiss the exclusivity that the fashion industry once had.   

Influencers have inevitably caught the attention of young viewers, and what they say goes. In 2023, Katie Fang entered the race with her makeup routines and story times using products by Charlotte Tilbury and Drunk Elephant. Days later, the items on the shelf were rampaged and sold out for weeks on end. The sell-out just represents the majority. Fashion brands have collaborated with influencers with million-dollar deals to push their products to social media users. The seats that were once saved for journalists are now being overcrowded by their competition: influencers.   

Many positive outcomes have emerged from the rise of influencers. Influencers have confronted the diversity and inclusion aspect of fashion, or lack thereof. For centuries, fashion was flooded with the thin, “cocaine Kate” body archetype. Now, influencers have pushed for greater diversity within the industry, opening opportunities for truly anyone. And in return, brands have since then tailored to all kinds of audiences and included more diversity in their campaigns.   

The shift has challenged traditional fashion journalism, and the rise of influencers doesn’t mean that fashion journalism is dead, but it does require a new approach that keeps them relevant. Media outlets have to now take the creator-driven ecosystem into account when pushing content.   

V Magazine Intern Araceli Olaechea Landa claims, “social media engagement and trends keep magazines alive.” The magazine has shown that they would rather follow the internet trends instead of starting them to keep their Gen Z audience satisfied.   

Viewers are easily malleable, and brands exploit this attitude. The new unreleased Glossier perfume was endorsed by influencers on TikTok, and before buyers could even smell it, viewers bought it without hesitation. Why? Because an influencer in a 15-second ad told them to.   

Fashion media has restyled itself dozens of times. As digital media continues to flourish and new voices arise, the landscape will keep transforming. Both fashion influencers and traditional fashion journalists are learning to intertwine with one another while captivating audiences.   

Both traditional journalism and influencers can co-exist in the same industry. While influencers satisfy the need for immediacy, traditional journalism provides a sense of precision and context. The tension between the two isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but instead, forces the industry to confront what really makes someone an expert. Journalists dipping their toes into the pool of social media with their industry expertise is what can keep the competition even.   

Journalists bring more institutional knowledge to the conversation; they can read a runway show and read a comment section. They’re now learning how to understand both languages without compromising their values. The symbiotic relationship between journalists and influencers is a continued learning curve, with the future of fashion journalism existing fluidly. 

Rebranding knows no limits. From celebrities to universities, titles and aesthetics are perpetually changing. Marist University has recently undergone a rebrand, shifting from a college into a university. Since then, the change has been significant. Between the updated logo and new policies like paid parking passes, the shift is undeniable. Naturally, the topic of rebrands has resurfaced in pop culture. 

Throughout the media age, we’ve learned many things. We’ve learned that no matter what’s said, it can and will be printed on the TMZ front pages, how important the right baseball cap is, that if you shave your head audiences will gasp, and most importantly, the art of the celebrity rebrand.  

Celebrities have managed to step out of unfamiliar territory, supported by an immense amount of media training that many have mastered. With the demand for aesthetics in our society, celebrities have contorted themselves into balancing on a thin trapeze. Losing weight, gaining it back, dyeing their hair, celebrities achieve a kind of chameleon status. 

What keeps them balanced is often unbeknownst to us, the observer. For us, we have to look at celebrities as a brand from the moment; they’re on the velvet red carpet until they launch their inevitable wellness or lifestyle company. At the end of the day, their curation is more than just aesthetics; it’s about relevancy. 

An argument could be made that in order for Marist University to stay competitive and forward-looking, it needed to embrace its evolution into a university. The rebrand creates an opportunity to reach a broader, more diverse pool of students, much like celebrities who reinvent themselves to remain culturally relevant. In that sense, Marist’s transformation mirrors the same strategic recalibration we see in pop culture, an effort to signal growth, ambition, and a readiness to meet a changing audience. Reinvention becomes less about vanity and more about survival. 

In today’s glittery cultural world, Addison Rae has one of the most notable and successful rebrands. We now know Rae as a rising pop star who has performed at major industry events, secured a denim collaboration with Lucky Brand, and mastered the art of curating an effortless aesthetic. 

From dancing in the hallways of her Louisiana home to wearing Jean Paul Gaultier to grab coffee, she’s come a long way. But what’s most striking isn’t just her versatility, t’s the clarity of her rebrand. Authenticity is the most important plate to balance because without it, the image will ultimately crumble. 

Authenticity sets the radar off; it’s the compass we as observers follow to determine whether a rebrand is truly successful. It’s not something that happens overnight, but rather with time, intention, and the right team. Consumer preferences can shift instantly, and celebrities must learn to navigate those changes seamlessly, without showing strain. 

This idea circles back to institutions like Marist University, where rebranding is not just cosmetic but cultural. The challenge lies in maintaining authenticity while evolving, ensuring that growth doesn’t come at the cost of identity. Just like a celebrity, a university must convince its audience that the transformation is both natural and necessary. 

The rebranding and shapeshifting stem from a place of high demand that ultimately leaves celebrities treading water, waiting for the next cycle. In the end, we have to ask ourselves: is it a rebrand, or is it simply growing up? 

In recent years, men’s fashion has developed a habit of looking backward. The past arrives not as history but as images: grainy photographs, film stills, a man walking down a Manhattan street in a navy blazer with sleeves pushed back. Few figures appear more often than John F. Kennedy Jr. Decades later, he remains one of the most photographed men of the 1990s, yet the photos rarely look staged. He bikes through traffic, walks his dog, leans against a railing along the Hudson.  

His wardrobe is familiar: white oxford shirt, dark denim, aviator sunglasses, a blazer worn casually. Nothing remarkable, yet these images circulate online as a style template. But the fascination goes beyond nostalgia. These guides sell the idea of attractiveness, or more precisely, dressing for the female gaze.  

Kennedy’s appeal lay in simplicity. Unlike contemporary celebrity fashion, his wardrobe relied on staples.  He balanced polish with ease, looking prepared without seeming deliberate. This effortless masculinity is hard to replicate. Online communities map out precise instructions: buy pleated trousers, find a vintage watch, and add aviators. Yet the effect itself remains elusive. Part of the elusiveness comes from the female gaze.  

Women cite Kennedy as an example of grounded, authentic male attractiveness. The focus is less on extravagance than on restraint: clothes that fit, fabrics that look lived in, the sense that the wearer has other concerns beyond the outfit. The internet flattens this into checklists: blazer, white T-shirt, loafers, sunglasses. Assemble it, yet something is missing. What cannot be purchased: posture, humor, social ease.  

Without it, the outfit becomes aesthetic cosplay. Yet when women reference Kennedy’s style, they respond to the life implied: a slightly rumpled sweater, sleeves casually rolled, a suit worn without effort. Reproducing that deliberately risks losing the spontaneity that made the original images compelling.  

We’re no strangers to men attempting to emulate their idea of the female gaze. As soon as women showed their allurement for Miles Teller in 2022 after seeing his iconic mustache, men couldn’t help but follow suit. Suddenly, one might even say overnight, men were rocking the stashes — some more filled than others. It was all over social media, men shaving their entire beards and finishing the look off with Aviator Sunglasses.  

With men consistently changing with the trends as accurately as possible, it makes us wonder — what is really driving these men to contort themselves into unfamiliar territory? 

It’s important to note that men’s mustaches and tailored suits are not out of the ordinary. Instead, we need to dissect the motive, the timing and their great expectations. But what they’re missing isn’t just the backwards cap, it’s how to accurately approach what a woman is looking for in a man.  

The female gaze was invented in response to the male gaze — it never really could be deemed with agency. When dissecting the female gaze, we realize that the first aspect is considering what we as women choose to wear to please. Following that rule of thumb, men assume we strive for the same thing. 

Kennedy’s wardrobe has become shorthand for classic, accessible masculinity. But style works best when it reflects the person wearing it. Without confidence, warmth, and social ease, garments can only approximate the effect. Style is never just about clothes. It is about the life moving inside them, the part that cannot be copied. 

Being yourself in a world full of cliche’s and stale copies of the same redundant man is what will ultimately aid you in the most. It’s critical to understand that without the charm that comes with the backwards cap, the potential effect would be useless.  

Is imitation the sincerest form of flattery — or a coverup for a lack of women’s consideration? 

Ever since the first stitch was sewed, fashion design has always been fueled by human creativity. With technology bleeding into jobs that were once reserved for stylists, photographers and advertising – creatives are being pushed to prove the value of human ingenuity. Designers are known for their new and innovative approaches to clothing and with technology on the rise, we ask ourselves, is it a friend or foe?

Fashion design, like many other creative-based industries, cherishes diligent skill and practice. Decades of practice can be involved in just one garment but with AI, it can be done in seconds. It challenges consumers about what we value the most – timely constructed garments or authenticity in production.

Over the years thrifting has evolved into more than just something we do on a budget but also quenches the consumer’s thirst for one of a kind pieces. In a world where personal style has been clouded by internet trends, thrifting seems to be a way around that. The popularity in thrifting perfectly displays just how much a consumer really cares for well-crafted items. 

Barriers to enter the design industry are now being diluted by the access of AI. With anyone being able to download applications like The New Black or Raspberry AI, faux designers can generate a garment within seconds. Having a base knowledge in design through education is something that will eventually separate the faux designers from the real ones. And things like proofing the work and asking the right questions to guide the machine is critical.

Design, like many art-forms, manifests itself through passion and emotion — something that AI just cannot replace but perhaps work with. 

What consumers tend to forget is how much creative authenticity has to do with the fashion pendulum that just keeps swinging. Fashion is a deeply dynamic and influential form of self-expression garnered by experiences. It is an opportunity for designers to illustrate cultural representation, media, social interactions and societal standards. Cultural observers are now recognizing what we think is considered the human experience through art and expression. 

The emerging relationship between designers and AI is changing rapidly. Not only is it being heavily used on the consumer side of things, but also leaking into the designing process. 

Inspiration is what drives design and AI only pulls from what already exists. In design, many of the responsibilities include tech packages, emails, meetings and the actual amount of time spent designing is minimal. “I can see people leaning on AI to fill that because they’re maxed out,” Professor Bradley Erikson said. “It’s disappointing that one bit of actual creativity you hand off to AI.”

Matteo DeVito, a senior designer, takes a different approach to the technology. Instead of looking at it as the enemy, he and other designers have embraced the helping hand that it offers. “It’s not the boogie man for creativity,” he said. 

“Everybody knows if something is AI generated, you can feel it if it’s not,” DeVito said. “There’s a lack of care and a lack of thought that goes into AI generated things.” Undermining the consumers ability to recognize if a garment was made by a machine is a mistake that many companies shrink. 

“The only time I actually land on something is through trial and error.” DeVito said. “AI doesn’t know what failure is, it doesn’t criticize and it can’t have an opinion that’s real.”  

The routine of fashion design has been an ever-evolving entity. Higher power technology is nothing new, the introduction of platforms such as Adobe have minimized the steps taken to design garments, is AI just another step?

So is it a question of technology evolution or just pure indolence? “Time is going to tell how we end up perceiving things,” Erikson said. Design technology, like many things that evolve, shifts in the landscape that it drives. 

But it raises a deeper thought, why do we feel such an urge to disintegrate human work with machines? What makes design and other mediums of art so remarkable is that it is challenging to make and gives humans a sense of purpose in this now technological cinderblock of a world. Any garment that is made in a small studio is a collection of thousands of years worth of dedication, research and curiosity.