Fashion’s Latest Muse Is… A Perfectly Plated Dish?
In a world where taste is becoming the newest language of luxury, fashion houses are turning to food—not as sustenance, but as storytelling

A taste for spectacle
At some point between the lobster lollipops and the mille-feuille molded like a handbag, it became clear that fashion was no longer just something we wear. It was something we eat.
In recent seasons, a quiet shift has taken place in the upper echelons of fashion—an evolution so subtle it may have slipped past the average observer, distracted perhaps by the swirl of tulle or the flash of a runway light. But spend enough time in the orbit of luxury—behind the curtains, on the other side of the velvet rope—and you begin to notice: high fashion has developed a taste for food. Or rather, for what food represents.
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Brands like Jacquemus and Loewe are no longer content to express themselves solely through fabric and form. Instead, they are dipping their manicured fingers into the world of culinary artistry, blending textures and plating styles with the same deliberation and decadence they bring to tailoring. The result is something entirely new: an aesthetic language where a carefully folded napkin or a whimsically topped amuse-bouche can carry the same semiotic weight as a perfectly pleated skirt.
Consider Jacquemus—ever the provocateur of the sun-drenched Mediterranean scene—whose recent activation in the south of France featured a gelato cart sculpted in pastel dreams, each cone handed out with the theatricality of a couture reveal. Or Loewe’s collaboration with chefs whose dishes echo the material play of their latest collections—velvet-like purées, glossy reductions, a careful balance of matte and shine on the plate mirroring the feel of leather, suede, silk.
The new language of luxury
It would be easy to dismiss this as yet another example of luxury’s boundless appetite for spectacle. But to do so would miss the cultural gravity of what’s occurring here. Food, once relegated to the utilitarian or the indulgent, is now being wielded as a narrative tool—shaping brand identity, defining mood, and cultivating intimacy with audiences increasingly numb to traditional forms of marketing.

In this new landscape, culinary presentation has become its own kind of runway. The mise en place is intentional, laden with references. The plate, a canvas. The fork, an accessory. It is fashion, distilled. It’s also a reframing of luxury—no longer simply about possession, but about experience. About transience. About the fleeting perfection of a tart that mirrors the color story of a Fall/Winter palette.
What’s fascinating—and perhaps revolutionary—is that this fusion treats food not as a supplement to the fashion experience, but as its equal. A handbag might say something about your style, but the pastry paired with your espresso at a Prada café? It speaks to your palate, your sense of play, your subtle alignment with a brand’s inner world.

This merging of the culinary and the sartorial isn’t just clever marketing. It’s a soft power play. In an era where attention spans are shrinking and content consumption is constant, luxury brands are betting on the visceral. On touch, scent, taste. They are, in a way, returning to the body—not as a mannequin, but as a whole sensorium.
Food is no longer an accessory. It is, in itself, the couture.
Photos courtesy Loewe and Jacquemus