Is Space Age Fashion the Next Tier of Luxury?

When Lauren Sànchez and her posse of famous pals set off on an 11-minute jaunt to outer space last month, it immediately went down in infamy. The hyper-documented, exorbitant excursion—space for the sake of it!—was widely criticized for being cringe, out of touch and an emblem of late-capitalist dystopia. Still, pretty much everyone could agree on one thing: the outfits they wore were good.

All the Blue Origin flight attendees—including TV personality Gayle King, activist Amanda Nguyen and pop star Katy Perry—were dressed in custom jumpsuits, courtesy of luxury fashion brand Monse. Washed in a deep gradient blue with a waist-cinching silhouette and a flared leg, the carefully-crafted suits were meant to, as Sànchez told the New York Times, “bring a little spice to space.”

Indeed, this group of wealthy women—“celestial sisters,” as Perry called them—made their cosmic cruise look pretty glamorous. They all appeared exceptionally put-together after descending back onto earth, and this was perhaps the entire point. Though the trip was marketed as a feminist endeavour—the first all-women space trip since 1963—it was received as a marketing stunt for Blue Origin (owned by Jeff Bezos, Sànchez’s fiancé). The uniforms were part of the aspiration, and as writer Amy Odell put it: “probably some of the best spon con this planet has ever seen.” Also, extremely du jour.

In the fashion realm, otherworldly escapism has been building for some time. As the NYT noted, Blue Origin is not the first space company to tap a high-end designer brand. (In October 2024, Axiom Space unveiled its latest suits for NASA astronauts, designed by none other than Prada.) And while Sànchez’s outing was criticized for being needless, it also delivered can’t-look-away spectacle, not unlike a couture runway or Kardashian wedding.

It begs the question: With income disparity at an all-time high, are space outings the next tier of luxury fashion? If the recent collections are any indication, that idea is taking off.

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Grace Ling / Photo via Launchmetrics/Spotlight

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Japanese brand Dairiku staged its latest lookbook in a set that evoked Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Grace Ling channelled space age mirror dresses from the sixties for Spring 2025. Alaia’s Fall 2025 show leaned into alien-like proportions. Second-hand retailer Etsy also predicted a sustained rise in galactic-inspired fashion, from holographic textures to reflective fabrics.

Arguably the most notable space-reminiscent Spring runway was Junya Watanabe. Models’ eyes were blackened for a martian-like effect, and their reflective clothing—made of recycled materials—comprised buckles, pads and bunched up layering, as if to suggest they were cocooning themselves for takeoff. “Abnormal dressing is necessary in everyday life,” Watanabe commented of the collection. And that’s exactly what space dressing delivers: an opportunity for escapism through the off-kilter unknown. Plus, it offers a hit of nostalgia.

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Junya Watanabe / Photo via Launchmetrics/Spotlight

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The space craze in fashion dates back to the Cold War era of the 1960s, when the U.S. was rushing to be the first to make it to the moon. Though that didn’t happen until 1969, the entire decade boomed in space fantasy. Courrèges popularized the space age look—one of geometric patterns and mini skirts—with its Moon Girl Spring 1964 collection. Pierre Cardin was a pioneer of celestial aesthetics, and his latest collection for Spring 2025 calls back to some of his initial designs, featuring half-moon hats, iridescent hues and trapeze dresses.

In this period, Paco Rabanne made the space aesthetic into wearable art, using unexpected materials like plastic pieces, mirrors, and unconventional hardware in his designs. He also introduced the chainmail dress and helped to design the costumes for Barbarella, the iconic 1968 space-adventure film starring Jane Fonda, which is still referenced at length today. (Kylie Jenner dressed up as her for Halloween.)

But there’s a difference between then and now. Sixties space age culture was marked by utopian musings like flying cars and Jetsons-esque societal ease. In those days, cosmic clothing was a marker of hope; a glossy, techno-utopia felt just within reach. It all took place against the backdrop of the youthquake: a counter-culture movement by young people pushing back on post-war conservatism and fighting for a fairer future.

Today, the vibes are different. The oligarch is thriving. AI anxiety has prompted a wave of anti-tech ennui. And young people are actually getting more conservative. We don’t have floating homes or world peace. We have Cybertrucks and this meme of Katy Perry holding a flower in space. Perhaps, then, it makes sense that life in space—a concept that is objectively out of reach for most of us—is timely inspiration for designers.

“The fashion industry has pivoted away from aspirational shoppers and toward the super-rich,” Odell wrote on Substack, after wagering that any luxury brand would have jumped at the chance to outfit Sànchez and her crew, despite the backlash. In 2025, there’s an inherent allure to space fashion, but, like most escapist endeavours these days, it’s meant for those in a faraway tax bracket.

While many will never be able to afford an afternoon in the exosphere—one Blue Origin flight seat is estimated to cost between $200,000 to $500,000—there’s a comfort in dressing like we can. An allure in imagining a new reality and equipping yourself for the possibility of progress. As Katy Perry remarked after spending about three minutes in zero gravity, “I feel super connected to love.” Whatever that means!