What we learned at the CPHFW x V&A talk

Fashion weeks should be agents of change

 “Besides being a force to showcase national talent, fashion weeks can also drive change in the industry. Taking advantage of the little power we have, with both brands on the schedule and sponsors, and weaponise it for good.” That’s how Cecilie Thorsmark summarises her efforts with Copenhagen Fashion Week. Since joining as CEO in 2018, she has shaped not only the institution she now leads but also the perception of what a fashion week can be. With strict and ever-evolving sustainability guidelines, CPHFW has become an agent of change. That is what Thorsmark thinks is missing in the current industry: action. “Manifests and guides are great, but without legislation, they’re meaningless. Until people are told to change, they won’t.” It’s exactly with this principle in mind that the BFC has taken on Thorsmark’s approach – as of next season, NEWGEN will implement CPHFW’s standards. Omoyemi Akerele, founder and CEO of Lagos Fashion Week, shares the sentiment. “Platforms like ours should be useful for change. I dream of fashion weeks and organisations being measured not only on showcases but on what we stand for. We can go from being event organisers to being change makers.”

Competition isn’t a viable or sustainable approach to fashion

“In fashion, relationships are everything. Why not use it for good, instead of evil?” Akerele asks the audience. Describing her approach, the founder of Lagos Fashion Week explains an interesting concept: “It’s all about relational capital. We use truth-driven relationships so we can work, learn, and share.” Jumping from Akerele’s testimony, Thorsmark expands the concept. As three representatives for different fashion weeks sit on the same stage, she reminds us, ” Fashion weeks aren’t competing for attention; we’re striving for a sense of community.” If each event offers something different and is confident in what they contribute to the fashion system, then collaboration is left as the only solution. Thorsmark elaborates: “We know we’re not Paris Fashion Week, we’re not trying to be. But if we’re confident in who we are and work together towards a shared goal, we can raise the bar.”

Without emerging talents, the industry has no future

Sarah Mower, fashion critic for US Vogue and co-chair of the BFC NEWGEN Committee, opens the second talk by presenting a simple fact. “In 1954, two designers won the International Woolmark Prize. Their names were Yves Saint Laurent and Karl Lagerfeld.” Without young talents, we won’t have tomorrow’s biggest names. Caroline Issa, CEO of Tank magazine, speaks to the same issue: “No one can be over 40 and qualified out of nowhere. The point of young people is not just to be trained into old ways of thinking, but as a voice to be listened to by the industry to inform the future.” This sentiment was echoed by the young designers on the panel, Tolu Coker and Nicklas Skovgaard. “How can the landscape nurture emerging talent? It’s tougher today than ever before to have a sustainable business that lasts more than three to five years,” says the latter. To creatively sustain, the industry needs to prioritise helping these designers. 

Mentoring emerging designers isn’t an exact science

The fashion industry has always romanticised youth, but rarely does it protect or prepare its youngest members. Without access to the appropriate mentoring, even the most promising creative minds can burn out in under five years. That’s where support systems come in, but money isn’t enough. Initiatives like NEWGEN began simply as funding programs, but quickly discovered that money without mentorship wasn’t enough. “You need bespoke mentors,” Issa says. “People who know what they’re talking about, not just in creativity, but in manufacturing, law, even how to write a contract.” Younger designers come from a place of creativity, schools teach them to expand and execute their ideas, but the real challenge comes in operation, in extending it as a business practice. 

Fashion education is adapting in real-time to the industry’s shifts

“The fashion industry is like Venice, beautiful, but with rotting foundations,” says Fabio Piras, Head of MA Fashion Design at CSM. The anecdote opens a conversation based on a difficult question: how can fashion education encourage the industry’s change? At its worst, education replicates broken models. At its best, it gives students the critical tools to question, unlearn, and rebuild. It’s not about training them to fit into the system, it’s about preparing them to change it. “Education is a place of knowledge,” Else Skjold, Associate Professor, PhD in Design and Sustainability, The Royal Danish Academy, said, “and in that way, it’s subversion.” Zowie Broach, Head of Programme at the Royal College of Art, states the only way to make progress is to admit to not having the answers. “As educators, vulnerability shouldn’t be negative; it’s about being open to not having all the answers.” Fashion education, like the industry itself, is in constant flux. Educators can’t predict the future, all they can do is prepare students for the omnipresent change.

Sustainability doesn’t kill creativity

Fashion students often enter design school drawn to vision, aesthetics, and freedom, not spreadsheets and sourcing ethics. But the reality is: sustainability is no longer optional, and it can’t be treated like a theoretical bolt-on to the creative process. Fashion schools today must do more than prepare students to land jobs, they must prepare them to challenge and rebuild the systems those jobs are part of. “Sustainable design involves a lot of boring stuff, but that’s where innovation lives,” Skjold says. The unglamorous side of sustainability, logistics, legal rights, supply chains, and waste management is exactly where the most urgent design questions now sit. When taught properly, these aren’t creativity killers. The change in approach requires widening the idea of success. Orsola de Castro, co-founder of Fashion Revolution, puts it plainly: “We’re only raising captains; we need to raise the people that power the ship.” Most designers will not become headline-grabbing creative directors, but many will become pattern-cutters, production managers, materials researchers – roles that are just as essential, if not more so, to sustainable transformation.

If a platform isn’t there, build it

Inclusion in fashion can’t just be about visibility, it’s about power. Power over who shapes the narratives, the aesthetics, and the systems that define the industry. Representation isn’t only about what appears on the runway or in campaign imagery. It’s about who gets to decide what fashion is in the first place. True structural change demands more than surface-level fixes. “It’s not about checking boxes; it’s about building institutions with intersectionality at their core,” says Aram Ostadian-Binai, founder of The Soulfuls, a platform dedicated to promoting creative inclusion. “From personal experience, the real impact is made behind the scenes: in recruitment processes, funding decisions, and who gets invited into the room.” Representation is often measured by what’s seen, but real influence happens in what’s built. Behind the scenes is where the most meaningful shifts take place. Daniel Peters, Founder and Managing Director of The Minority Report Group, emphasises the weight of this behind-the-scenes labour. For him, pushing the fashion industry toward genuine diversity is slow, often exhausting work, but it’s necessary. “Change in fashion is rarely given,” he says. “It’s taken, built, and insisted on – especially when the system wasn’t built to include you in the first place.”