Well-Versed: How High Fashion Is Falling in Love With Literature

Notebooks in hand, pens poised to take notes, a Who’s Who of Chinese culture – including actors Li Gengxi, Zhao Jinmai and Liu Haocun – crane forward to hear more. The object of this glittering group’s undivided attention? A conversation about the legacy of French feminist writer Simone de Beauvoir. Later in the day, this audience of over 600 in Shanghai was equally transfixed by a discussion of Japanese novelist Fumiko Enchi’s The Waiting Years, a blistering critique of patriarchy. This wasn’t some obscure salon sponsored by a think-tank or university. It was a Literary Club pop-up hosted by Miu Miu, with their famous logo liberally sprinkled throughout this event.

This high-minded bit of programming isn’t the only instance in which fashion brands are elevating the humble book into an object of fascination. Adored British author Zadie Smith was recently one of the stars in Bottega Veneta’s “Craft Is Our Language” campaign, shot in black-and-white alongside other celebrities like Julianne Moore, Lauren Hutton and Tyler, The Creator. Prada recently commissioned novelist Ottessa Moshfegh, of My Year of Rest and Relaxation fame, to write a collection of ten short stories, released as a limited-edition book called Ten Protagonists. Actor Carey Mulligan then embodied in campaign imagery, taking on a new character from the book – a photographer, a computer programmer, and a translator, among them – with each outfit change. 

It’s a surprisingly cerebral wellspring of inspiration for an industry that can tend toward the superficial, especially in a time when attention spans struggle to make it through a three-minute TikTok, let alone the sort of challenging, rewarding texts we expect from the likes of Smith and Moshfegh. 

It’s also just another chapter in what has been a long-term love affair between the page and the catwalk. “Text and textile, after all, have the same etymological root,” points out fashion historian Serena Dyer. “Literature and fashion are intimately linked, not least because fashion has long been used as a symbolic reflection of identity and emotions, and so it often crops up as a literary device.”

Clothing is also a way for authors to shape their public personas. For example, Dyer describes the Romantic poets – all “deliberately undone collars and dishevelled” – and the way that their particular fashion choices created the “tormented poet” archetype that still resonates today. Current-day example Matty Healy’s artfully floppy hair and rumpled suits, and the album he inspired that Taylor Swift called The Tortured Poets Department, come to mind.

Tapping into a literary figure is also a convenient shorthand for telegraphing other messages a designer might want to convey to potential clients, just as an exuberant colour palette conveys a certain mood. “When a designer references, say, Virginia Woolf, they are rarely referencing her actual wardrobe, which was often simple, part of the bohemian Bloomsbury group’s anti-fashion stance,” Dyer says. “Instead, they are tapping into the aura or idea of Woolf: intellectualism, modernity, complexity, and a rich inner life.”

At its core, she continues, these designers are trading on “cultural capital,” a currency built on ideas and impressions. Anytime they do this—whether it’s when Virgil Abloh created an Off/White collection inspired by Princess Diana or even Jonathan Anderson re-imagining the famous Book Tote in his debut collection for Dior this spring—they’re using shorthand. “They are leveraging an archetype – the bluestocking, the salonnière, the renegade intellectual – to imbue a garment with an association of intelligence and depth,” says Dyer. “It’s a fantasy of sophistication, not a historical reenactment.”

And there’s a compelling reason why those are the sorts of symbols luxury houses are trying to play with in the era of the super dupe, micro-trends that are gone as quickly as they arrived. “Literature signals intellect, depth, curiosity, and discernment—qualities that align with contemporary luxury culture,” says Faren Karimkhan, an assistant professor in advertising at Syracuse University. “When a brand aligns itself with figures like Zadie Smith or Ottessa Moshfegh, it communicates narrative depth rather than pure aesthetics and taste and identity over display.”

Luxury sales have also been facing challenges influenced by inflation and global economic uncertainty. There is also a shift in consumer sentiment, with some becoming less engaged by the intense narratives associated with acquiring high-demand items. Brands are also refocusing  their strategies to reinforce exclusivity and long-term desirability—something that might have been diluted during rapid price increases over the past decade.

“[There’s] a need to rethink how ‘value’ is communicated. Traditional appeals—craftsmanship, exclusivity, heritage—still matter, but they are no longer sufficient on their own,” says Karimkhan. “Luxury now needs to mean something beyond material quality. I think this shift is about positioning luxury not just as what you wear, but as how you think and express yourself.”

This is why aligning with books, which have become a kind of status symbol in our screen-obsessed world, makes strategic sense for fashion houses looking to rebuild their own place in a cultural firmament, as Karimkhan points out, where quiet luxury trumps flashing your cash. “I believe this new approach of aligning with literary culture allows consumers to express and signal intelligence, a curated worldview, and a value system that prioritizes meaning over flash and goes beyond aesthetic appeals,” she says. “In other words, the brand is saying: ‘We see you as a thinker, not just a buyer.’ And that is powerful in a moment where luxury needs to justify its value beyond price and product.”

It also speaks to our broader cultural landscape, says Stacy Jones, founder of creative agency Hollywood Branded, and an expert in this kind of pop culture-meets-commerce partnership. She links this to a “cultural correction” happening in real time. “We’ve overdosed on content, and now people crave context. Reading, storytelling, and slower forms of thinking have become the new rebellion as people seek to disconnect from an always-on digital world,” she says, pointing to recent non-fashion pop culture moments like Donald Trump’s Great Gatsby-themed party and Kris Jenner’s Bond-themed birthday bash. “Literature isn’t just influencing fashion, it’s quietly shaping how power and glamour are performed.”

That said, Jones cautions that, in the wrong circumstances, a brand aligning itself with literature could backfire. “When it feels like a costume, it fails. If a brand uses a literary reference as a prop instead of a partnership, audiences can smell it instantly,” she says. “Authenticity has to be the foundation, otherwise it comes off as elitist cosplay.” This is why she applauds Prada’s collaboration with Ottessa Moshfegh, which she says, the author’s tone and the brand DNA “perfectly mirrored” each other. 

She’d advise any brand that came to her wanting to jump on this moment to do likewise. “Don’t quote literature, collaborate with it. Bring the writer in. Let them shape the story, the visuals, the experience. Make the book part of the brand’s universe, not an accessory to it,” says Jones. “When done right, it gives a campaign real cultural staying power, the kind that makes it feel timeless instead of seasonal.”

And that would be a happy ending, indeed.