Amid all the street style and runway shows this fashion month, one thing is clear: A nostalgic fashion moment is almost certainly on the rise. This moment is very specific, though, narrowed down to (in my not-so-humble and, frankly, expert opinion) a singular year, and I don't mean 2016: I'm looking at 2009.
There were signs, of course. The indie-sleaze aesthetic and millennial optimism have been all over social media, and various elements of the mid-to-late aughts are very much part of the Gen Z style playbook. But I think what we're seeing this fashion month is about something more specific than general nostalgia; rather, it's a particular moment from 17 years ago that fashion is calling back. A moment that, I recognize for many, may be something you can only read about or see through images on TikTok.
But I was there, and now I’m here to tell you that 2009 was a perfectly unserious era of fashion, encapsulating a very unique moment in time that was defined by voluminous clothing, feelings of optimism (despite a recession), and an incoming shift in technology.
I’ll set the stage: This was the same year that seasons two and three of Gossip Girl aired, which saw Jenny Humphrey (played by Taylor Momsen) transform from Brooklyn newbie into her punk-fashion, Barbie-Queen Bee era. President Barack Obama was sworn into office, making US history as the first Black president. Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” and Rihanna’s “Rude Boy” were blasting through speakers around the world. And Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen had just released a book about fashion and art called Influence, which solidified their break from the child stardom that had defined them for a decade.
Most importantly, it was the year before Instagram was downloaded onto millions of phones—before everyone’s online persona became entangled with their real one. The internet still felt like an unexplored universe. It was more a place to discover things, less a barrage of flattened versions of the actual world.
Amid the signs of post-9/11 America and a financial crisis, there was hope again. An engaging president had been elected, and he brought with him into the White House a first family that reflected the country's future. Stars embraced the chaos of paparazzi culture, often stepping out in headline-making outfits that included opaque tights, short shirt-dresses, and platforms that could leave you with a broken ankle. It was all so, as the internet aptly dubbed it, optimistic and weird.
Now cut to the New York Fashion Week runways in 2026, when one particular show, 7 for All Mankind, featured an almost costume-like version of this moment. Models nearly ran down the catwalk in Wayfarers, skinny scarves, and short, slinky dresses. On other runways like Area, Collina Strada, and Proenza Schouler, there were subtle nods to peplum cuts, another Gossip Girl staple of the moment; high-low skirts, which were basically miniskirts with a train; platform high heels à la Lady Gaga (who, fittingly, cameo’d in Gossip Girl in November 2009); and ultra-mini denim skirts, which, in 2009, transitioned directly from socialites to suburban shopping malls so high schoolers could pair them with their calf-hugging UGGs (also seen on runways in 2026 for Gabe Gordon and Taottao).
You could certainly argue that these are multiyear trends that seeped into the 2010s, but my view of what we just saw this New York Fashion Week is not about an actual garment; it’s about a feeling that brands and consumers are sharing, even in a world overrun by so many bad things. Hope? Delusional optimism? Maybe it’s simply the beginning of an inevitable shift, good or bad.
In the same way that social media changed our behavior online, now we have AI changing the internet in ways we’re not even sure about. While we’re not actually in a recession (yet?), rising material costs are making it difficult for many fashion brands to operate. In essence, we’re in the throes of one era ending and another beginning—and the fashion is a reflection of that.
In 2009, young people didn’t know what was coming, only that change could happen, in fashion, politics, and broader culture—if they could just bring it into focus. A middle-class-ish nobody could run the social circle at an elite private school. Skinny jeans were a status symbol.
Many people aren't ready for these styles to come back. Generational trend wars are a typical part of the cycle. But I’m not so mad about it, and you shouldn't let that narrative get to you. In 2009, American culture experienced the last days of a certain kind of pre-Instagram, post-Bush potential, and the first days of something that felt like real, positive movement. Maybe the changes stuck or maybe they didn’t. We sure aren't bringing back cropped leggings under a denim miniskirt, but we could use a little sense of promise.
