The Fashion Industry’s Food Fetish

In a surprising turn from its typical moody glamour, Saint Laurent’s recent campaign invites us not to a dimly lit lounge, but to something far more pedestrian and far more subversive: a backyard picnic. Titled An Ordinary Day, the imagery is anything but. Models perch on folding chairs, sip tea, slice fruitcake, and fuss over toast and soft-boiled eggs, all the while accessorised with cheetah-print totes, brooches, and kitten heels. On Instagram, a close-up of butter glistens beside a leather bag.

It’s official, fashion has developed a taste for food.

This is no longer the domain of novelty or niche. The visual language of fashion is now peppered, often quite literally, with food. Once limited to experiential retail efforts like Ralph Lauren’s cafés or Prada’s convivial dinners, cuisine has now seeped into fashion’s most symbolic currency: the campaign image.

The New Appetite

Food is, as Family Style festival founder Miles Canares puts it, “the most universally understood language.” The annual streetwear and dining festival, now owned by Complex and recently expanded to New York, is just one of many indicators that food’s place in the fashion world is no longer incidental.

At Axel Arigato, creative director Jens Werner embraced this shift. For the brand’s holiday shoot, he eschewed glitz in favour of a table strewn with vegetables, bread, and stone fruit. “Food connects people,” he says. “You relate to it instinctively, then you spot a sneaker, and suddenly the whole scene becomes more relatable, more human.”

That subtle shift is the point. Food isn’t merely decorative, it’s narrative. It conjures memory, emotion, sensuality. And, in an era where grocery prices can provoke more outrage than a handbag’s price tag, a still life of figs or eggs doesn’t just signal plenty, it speaks to the new, loaded symbolism of indulgence.

From Bananas to Book Clubs

This isn’t entirely new. Art history is full of edible allegory, from the baroque excess of Dutch Golden Age still lifes to the symbolic fruits of Renaissance portraiture. Today’s fashion brands are tapping into that tradition with a wink. A Jacquemus campaign recently placed a banana in a golf hole, its fruit-shaped car circling Los Angeles like a surrealist sculpture. Aimé Leon Dore’s espresso-stained Instagram aesthetic and collaborations with La Marzocco suggest a European refinement filtered through Queens cool.

Saint Laurent, in contrast, offers suburban irony. Toast, jam, and gentle ennui stand in for its usual cigarettes and shadows. There’s comfort in the mundane, deliberately so.

The strategy isn’t just visual. As cultural critic Fielding notes, “Objects themselves no longer hold meaning in isolation. Status has shifted from the object to the story around it.” Where once the label was enough, today luxury is defined by taste, curated and cultivated.

That shift is visible across the industry. Alaïa’s bookstore café, Miu Miu’s literary salons, and Loewe’s love affair with craft and produce are all reflections of a new paradigm. Fashion’s latest power move is knowing your olive oil as well as your runway seasons.

The Alaïa bookstore in collaboration with Claire de Rouen.

The Performative Plate

The integration of food into brand storytelling extends to events, where culinary spectacle now rivals fashion itself. Labels one-up each other with edible installations, from chef Laila Gohar’s whimsical centrepieces for Prada and Hermès to Imogen Kwok’s ephemeral desserts for Mytheresa. Even Khaite’s custom “cashmere of beers” Miller High Life bottles in Paris signal that the line between fashion and food has all but disappeared.

Axel Arigato, not content with a tablescape, rolled out a branded lemonade truck in London and will soon scent its stores with cinnamon buns on Fridays, a nod to its Swedish roots.

Creative director Jonathan Anderson was famously inspired by a viral meme from digital creator conndo that read, “This tomato is so Loewe I can’t explain it,” which ultimately led to the creation of the now iconic tomato clutch, a sculptural accessory so surreal and so sought after it’s virtually impossible to find in stores today.

Even food brands are taking cues from fashion. Lines outside LA’s Howlin’ Ray’s resemble Supreme drops, and luxury grocer Erewhon has turned wellness into a flex. Scarcity, storytelling, collaboration, these are no longer the tools of the runway alone.

A Taste of the Times

Fashion, as always, mirrors its moment. In the 1990s, aspirational imagery revolved around real estate and nightlife. But today’s youth are less interested in mortgages or midnight soirées. Their desires skew quieter and more curated. A reservation at a buzzy restaurant carries more social cachet than a car. A perfect tomato on sourdough says more about your taste than a Rolex.

Whether this fixation on food lasts depends on the broader cultural temperature. But for now, toast is trending, and fashion is hungry for more.