by Maria Vittoria Borghi
Illustration by Anoushka Guli
TW: mention of mental health disorders and suicide
Few people are unfamiliar with Yayoi Kusama and her fixation with mesmerizing patterns, splashing colours, and shapes of infinity. Subversive, immersive, and extravagant, her work feeds into the fantasies of the ultra-creative Generation Z. This is probably why, despite having been active for decades, Kusama’s career has made a strong comeback in recent years.
The success might also come from her personal life. The Japanese artist suffers from hallucinations and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and the so-called “Kusama-ification” of objects and spaces is a vivid portrayal of these life experiences. Not only does Gen-Z report considerably higher rates of mental illness and distress, they are also more determined to talk about such experiences; it’s therefore understandable that some young people might view the artist as a role model. Kusama’s renewed success seems well-deserved, considering that she opened up about her condition as soon as she attained celebrity status, that is, in a time before our collective awakening on mental health stigma.
Regardless of natural charms and talents, every thriving artist needs regular promotions, and Kusama appears well aware of that. As a seasoned professional in the popularity game, the 93-year-old must have noticed that the real challenge is not short-term success, but staying relevant for a sustained period of time and collecting the monetary profits of fame. From this angle, it’s not difficult to see through her new partnership with Louis Vuitton, commemorated with statues and installations popping up in major world capitals overnight. The Kusama-ification of fashion is expected to be a lucrative endeavour for the Japanese creator and the French brand alike: according to the Fashion website Shift, the items of the new collection, which commemorates the 10th anniversary of their previous successful 2012 collaboration LV x Yayoi Kusama, is ‘already a sold-out phenomenon’.
While certainly not the first artist to use her mental health disorder as a source of inspiration, Kusama is one of the few among them to have cultivated an eminent career whilst enduring their condition – the fruits of which would later be reaped also through collaborating with fashion brands. Vincent Van Gogh, for instance, also experienced mental health episodes which he channeled into art. Both artists voluntarily entered a mental institution after a series of psychotic episodes: however, while Kusama has made the Seiwa Hospital for the Mentally Ill in Tokyo her permanent residence in 1995 – which she leaves regularly to work in an atelier across the street – Van Gogh ended his stay at the Saint-Paul asylum after a year, dying shortly after from a probably self-inflicted wound. It’s truly regrettable that the Dutch painter will never have a say in how his work, now worth millions, has been used by the champions of haute couture as inspiration material for decades.
On another note, homaging a world-renowned extraordinary mind who will never be able to take credit is surely a convenient way to escape designer’s block. Pablo Picasso, who struggled with depression, has been subjected to similar treatment; even Moschino’s logo on the runway show of Spring 2020 is designed to resemble his signature. Similarly, Jean Paul Gaultier celebrated “The Life of A Mexican Icon”, Frida Kahlo, whose overall health journey has been anything but smooth, by claiming her style along with her signature colours and flowers. The list goes on, suggesting that fashion historically profits and appropriates from art therapy.
However, not all attempts at capitalising on mental health struggles have been well received. Presenting Gucci’s Spring/Summer 2020 collection, for example, must have been a surprising experience for Alessandro Michele. I can only assume that the then-creative director expected Milan fashion week attendees to share his creative vision of reworked straitjackets. He was probably perplexed to learn that the public and even some of his models did not: following the show, the media reported on his insensitive choice (which overshadowed the whole collection) and on the silent protest of model Ayesha Tan Jones, who opened their palms on the runway, which read: ‘mental health is not fashion’. Journalists and bloggers seem to agree.
Is it not, though? Fashion is arguably the most successful industry to have instrumentalised sensitive issues and, despite occasional gaffes, designers must believe that the profits are worth walking the sensitivity tightrope. Recall the infamous 1980s ads by Calvin Klein featuring Brooke Shields and Kate Moss? 40 years later, sexual innuendos, a marketing trick that still pays off, are combined with hallucination-inspired prints to make products more attractive, as illustrated by the Louis Vuitton billboards showing a topless Bella Hadid (who is thankfully over 18, unlike Shields and Moss at the time of their respective shoots) covered by a Kusama tote bag. If Sex sells, perhaps “Sick” does too.
The last decades of runways and pop culture are real-world evidence that mental health is fashionable. The normative debate about what fashion can or should be is failing to address the practical concerns that should be discussed today: not so much whether there is a trend towards capitalisation of mental health and social malaise, but what we are to make of it. It’s time to start considering what the advantages and consequences are and for whom, and how to ensure that the benefits outweigh the risks.
We will have to accept that Haute Couture emulates and profits from Van Gogh’s and Claude Monet’s compositions; we can maybe even look past the comedian wearing a Hermès scarf while mimicking Edvard Munch’s The Scream on the cover of Vogue Korea. Still, we must claim something in return: social responsibility. The eagerness to exploit creative output that has undeniably emerged from suffering must be equally matched by donations and awareness campaigns. Kusama seems excited to work with Louis Vuitton, but to what extent are they giving back to the community?
Despite their outstanding commitment to environmental, cultural and social causes, a clear articulation of their support for mental health issues appears to be missing from their 2022 ESG report and Code of Conduct. Even their brilliant initiative WECAREFORMODELS, which was designed to create a safe working environment for models and set new standards in fashion, avoided words such as “mental health”, “depression” or “anxiety”, while offering tips for stress and food management. The same can be said about the LVMH Heart Fund, which celebrates its first anniversary in June 2023. This new scheme for employees facing “critical personal situations as well as challenging day-to-day issues” sounds impressive. However, it’s hard to ask for help when there’s reluctance to call a spade a spade: the fact that such an influential company shies away from employing the vocabulary which describes the reality of so many people points to the hesitancy of a whole industry to explicitly support affected communities.
This is what we should be calling haute couture out on: their ambiguous involvement in the fight to support people with mental disorders – a fight they should be openly and consistently spearheading, given that they benefit from their creativity. Not using Kusama’s success to do that feels like a missed opportunity. Brands should honour the hardships of the artists they are inspired by: if we can push them to publicly do that, maybe we can turn this trend into a collective educational and healing opportunity. Now, that would be sick!
