Models as Muses: The Controversial ‘Prada Effect’ and Its Legacy in High Fashion

Georgina Orford

3 min read

The glittering surge of the 90s supermodel is a familiar cultural phenomenon, headlined by household names like Naomi Campbell, Christy Turlington, and Kimora Lee Simmons. The iconic Victoria's Secret Fashion Show was the dazzling epitome of this era; a production built on self-expression and the individuality of models as the muses of clothing brands.

Miuccia Prada’s globally renowned fashion house, originally a leather shop founded by her uncle in 1913 in Milan, is known for its minimalist, ‘ugly-chic’ designs. The brand became unfathomably influential throughout the 90s, showcasing its famous nylon handbag in response to the technology boom and subsequent increased interest in innovative materials, challenging traditional ideas of luxury.

However, in the early 2000s, Miuccia Prada re-established the role of stardom on the runway. She began casting primarily unrecognisable Eastern European girls for the catwalk. The ‘Prada Effect’, a phrase which has been popularised in recent years amongst fashion circles and on social media platforms, refers to the influx of major fashion houses following Prada’s lead in the mass casting of girls as young as aged twelve from Eastern European countries including Russia, Ukraine, Poland, and post-Soviet states.

The homogeneous look of these models is often associated with the 2000s runway, with their blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and tall, slim figures. The idealisation of this appearance extended to models from outside of Eastern Europe too, such as Gisele Bündchen, as well as Kate Moss. Many of the mid 2000s fashion shows showcased near identical girls who fit this description. Some may argue that the uniform line-up on the runway draws the attention back to the clothes themselves. However, removing the representation of other races and body types from the creative world is undeniably damaging to wider culture. In addition to the importance of equal representation, appearance diversity on the runway could even highlight the use of contrasting colours and innovative garment shapes.

While this newfound recognition for aspiring models from these states opened up a vast number of financial opportunities for young girls in Eastern Europe, it was also seen by some as a strange form of industry eugenics. For example, their genetics often provide the required measurements for the runway given their build and above average heights. These brands were supposedly drawn to these girls given their perceived exoticism and the stereotype of their hardworking nature. This adaptability came hand in hand with their impressionable age and occasionally their drive to earn money to support their families back home.

In the Channel 4 documentary ‘Young Siberian Models Being Sent to China’, the disturbing truth of the industry was unveiled, reporting that in the early 2000s, young girls were taken from their low-income households in Siberia and promised a new life abroad as models in East Asia. They then had their passports seized and were told they could not return home unless they earned an adequate amount. Their allowance of only 10% of their income forced many into sex work and other related industries.

The fame and diva-like attitude of the 90s supermodels were, to some designers, a distraction from their pieces. They began to recruit these Eastern European models due to their lack of celebrity status, instructing them to hide any signs of personality or charisma while walking the runway. This reduction in stardom shifted the focus to the clothes themselves, allegedly. However, there is a strong argument that this concept mutes the creative expression that high fashion should embody. The moral implications of the ideal of a ‘blank canvas’ figure are heavy. Intrinsic to this idea is that they are replaceable, and therefore more prone to objectification. They become commodified and interchangeable walking clothes hangers. A seemingly illogical choice considering the personalities of the most famous supermodels ultimately draw attention to the brands they work for.

The controversial legacy of the ‘Prada Effect’ remains prevalent in the modern high fashion industry. However, the inverse effect is beginning to occur. Designers have increasingly encouraged their models to act out in order to gain online traction for their shows. Though there is a long way to go, the public discourse around the critique of the ‘Prada Effect’ has raised questions regarding the importance of diversity in the modelling world. Moreover, perhaps the rise in East Asian models, such as Ming Xi and Devon Aoki, mirrors the 2000s Eastern European wave. Miuccia Prada certainly makes an admirable attempt to re-emphasise the art of the textiles industry itself, as well as the bold creative decision to present a sleek, uniform look across an entire collection through the appearance of models. However, it cannot be denied that the trend is fundamentally prone to moral malpractice and the muting of individuality in a field so heavily defined by its celebration of self-expression.