From heroin chic to the cult of thinness, the world of modeling has long been entangled in controversy. Yet if there is one enduring truth about this industry, it is its unwavering devotion to the dream it conjures. For many women and men, models are far more than mere vessels for garments: they are icons of strength, elegance, and confidence. They invite us to imagine, to desire, to aspire. At once revered and scrutinized, models have become inseparable from the fabric of fashion itself. Their future lies open, shaped by a legacy rich with transformation, rupture, and reinvention, a past that continues to inform a multitude of new and uncharted paths.
From Dolls to Worth: The Origins of the Fashion Model
The concept of a “model” dates back centuries, originating from the Latin modulus, meaning measure or standard. The term evolved into the French modèle in the sixteenth century and soon entered the English language, initially referring to a small representation of something: a sculptor’s maquette or an architectural miniature, for instance. But only in the world of fashion does the model become a living, breathing person.
The earliest fashion models weren’t people at all, but dolls. In the eighteenth century, before the invention of live modeling, French dressmakers often promoted their designs internationally by dispatching fashionably dressed dolls across Europe. These “fashion dolls” showcased the latest styles to distant clients, likely because elite women themselves couldn’t travel as freely.
Interestingly, the first live fashion models in Paris were not women, but men. Beginning in the 1820s, certain tailors hired handsome young men (referred to as mannequins) to display their garments in fashionable public spaces. These early male models, predecessors of the modern
fashion model, were far from glamorous figures. Contemporary writers describe them as pitiable young men, required to walk around racetracks and society gatherings in stylish attire, only to return the borrowed clothes at day’s end. They had an ambiguous social standing: a man whose profession was to rent out his body, elegant enough to appeal to the rich, but poor enough to need the wage.
It wasn’t until several decades later that women began to replace men as the face of fashion. Charles Frederick Worth (1826–1895), often considered the father of haute couture, is credited with introducing female mannequins to the fashion scene. He initially employed his wife, Marie Augustine Vernet, to model his designs: a move that would set a new standard. Worth may simply have been adapting a long-standing marketing strategy from male tailors, now femini
zed. Up to that point, only inanimate mannequins had been used in boutiques; live models, also still called mannequins, served a strictly utilitarian purpose and were poorly paid.
By the close of the nineteenth century, fashion modeling had become a predominantly female. The model, once a doll and then a hired man, had finally found her form: living, visible, and undeniably central to the fashion world.
The Work of Being Seen: Modeling and the Making of a Profession
In the early twentieth century, as fashion began to move beyond the intimate walls of private ateliers and into the emerging sphere of public commerce, the need for live representation grew unmistakably clear. Garments, once viewed in stillness, now needed motion. They required presence to convey their shape, elegance to suggest their desirability. This necessity gave rise to the house model: women like Lisa Fonssagrives, whose poise and precision in the 1930s and 40s allowed her to become more than a silent figure in couture: she became a face, a personality, and a vital part of the brand’s identity.
By the 1950s and 60s, the role of the model had gained structure and visibility. No longer confined to the fitting room or the runway, models began to step into the realm of professionalized labor. The founding of agencies such as Ford Models in 1946 signaled this shift. Through formal representation, models began to navigate contracts, negotiate rates, and build lasting reputations. Dorian Leigh and her sister Suzy Parker exemplified this transition. They weren’t just photographic subjects, they were high-earning professionals, working across continents, fronting campaigns that moved fashion into the heart of popular culture. Parker, with her striking red hair and undeniable screen presence, became one of the first models to attain true celebrity status in the United States, a clear sign that modeling was no longer peripheral to the fashion industry, but central to it.
The rapid growth of print media only deepened this evolution. As fashion magazines expanded their reach and advertising became a commercial engine, models emerged as the visual anchors of entire campaigns. Their appeal was no longer confined to aesth
etic charm; it became a market force. The ability of one model to influence taste, drive sales, and shape public perception turned her into something far more than an image.
This transformation inevitably influenced the role of the designer. Couture and ready-to-wear collections, once reserved for private showings, bega
n to appear in the pages of Vogue, in department store displays, and increasingly, on the bodies of recognizable women. Designers sought models who could convey more than fit, they
needed women who could embody an idea. Figures like Jean Shrimpton and Twiggy captured this new intersection of fashion and fame in the 1960s. Their look, energy, and individuality helped define the era, just as fashion was becoming a truly global language.
With that rising visibility came a new legitimacy. Modeling, once viewed as a diversion or a temporary engagement, was now understood as a career requiring discipline, adaptability, and a carefully curated identity. A successful model had to be both canvas and character: responsive to the designer’s vision while maintaining a singular, memorable presence.
This was the quiet turning point. Not defined by a single name or
campaign, but by a growing recognition that fashion could no longer speak without its models. They had become integral: collaborators, interpreters, and, increasingly, icons. From that point forward, the industry wouldn’t just showcase models; it would be shaped by them.
The 1990s: Supermodels as Muses, Goddesses, and Living Symbols
In the 1990s, fashion models ascended to a level of influence and visibility that blurred the lines between human and icon. No longer just vehicles for showcasing clothing, they became muses, ethereal figures who shaped the creative direction of the brands they represented. They were goddesses in the cultural imagination: worshipped, emulated,
and untouchable, yet paradoxically everywhere, in magazines, on billboards, and walking the most exclusive runways on Earth.
This was the decade that birthed the supermodel: a select group of women whose names were as recognizable as the designers they wore. Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Cindy Crawford, Christy Turlington, and Tatjana Patitz didn’t just represent fashion; they became fashion. Designers didn’t just cast them, they crafted collections with them in mind. Their presence could define a campaign. Their charisma, their walk, their gaze — all became part of the brand’s narrative.
Peter Lindbergh’s 1990 British Vogue cover, shot in stark black and white, immortalized this shift. It wasn’t just a group portrait; it was a declaration of a new kind of beauty: powerful, distinct, and cinematic. From that moment, models weren’t seen as interchangeable bodies but as personalities. They became the brand’s voice without speaking, communicating everything from opulence to rebellion, minimalism to excess.
In editorials and campaigns, they weren’t merely styled, they were staged like modern goddesses in carefully orchestrated visual myths. Think of them as symbols: Cindy Crawford’s All-American allure for Pepsi, Claudia Schiffer as Chanel’s icy blonde fantasy, Naomi Campbell embodying Versace’s daring sensuality. Each model amplified the essence of the house she represented, breathing life into its identity while projecting an aspirational lifestyle.
Ultimately, the 90s supermodel wasn’t just selling clothes, she was selling a vision. A fantasy of power, elegance, and control. She embodied the fashion dream, while shaping it at the same time — muse, goddess, and brand incarnate.
The Model as Voice: Beyond the Muse
If the 1990s supermodel embodied a vision, a living dream sculpted by designers and admired by the public, to
day’s models carry a different kind of power: one rooted in voice, authenticity, and action.
No longer the silent muses elevated above the world, today’s models walk beside us — not to be admired in silence, but to be heard. They have become powerful cultural voices, leading global conversations on diversity, rights, and representation. Through platforms like Instagram and TikTok, they write their own narratives, becoming activists, digital entrepreneurs, and voices for change.
This transformation is reflected in figures like Cara Delevingne, who shattered the image of the polished, silent model with her irreverent humor and unapologetic persona
lity, redefining what it means to be relatable in fashion. Adwoa Aboah offers another powerful example, having used her platform to advocate for mental health awareness, gender equality, and racial justice, while founding Gurls Talk, a space for honest conversations around identity and healing.
The image of beauty, once narrowly defined, has grown more layered. Bethann Hardison’s early advocacy for racial representation paved the way for a new generation: Alex Consani brings visibility to trans and non-binary identities, Ashley Graham redefines sensuality by confidently celebrating her curves, and Winnie Harlow embraces her vitiligo as a distinctive mark of
uniqueness — each one challenging fashion’s long-standing beauty standards while affirming the power and necessity of diversity.
And now, technology is pushing boundaries even further. AI-generated models are on the rise; they’re customizable, efficient and increasingly popular among brands. While they offer new creative possibilities, they also raise ethical questions: what place will real, human models hold in a world of digital replicas?
Looking ahead, the future of modeling appears to be a blend of innovation and authenticity. Real people with real stories will remain vital. Because even in an AI-enhanced world, the most powerful thing a model can be – is human.
(AI-generated model)
By Adélie Brutti, Alessia Cisario, Claire Deville & Giulia Patitucci
