The fashion world loves to sell you the idea of inclusion, but most of the time it feels like we’re only invited when it benefits them. We see the runway shows, the influencers in the front row, the fashion houses dropping pieces nobody outside that room will ever touch, and we’re expected to believe that all of this somehow reflects the everyday person. I don’t buy that for a second.

Let’s call it what it is: runway work is a performance. It’s theater. It’s a flex.

Couture is fashion houses showing off pure ability; how far they can push fabric, shape, construction, imagination, and craftsmanship. These are pieces made by hand, stitch by stitch, by ateliers who train their entire lives for this. Most couture dresses take hundreds of hours, sometimes over a thousand, and the materials alone cost more than what most people make in a year.

These pieces aren’t built for stores. They’re built for reputation. They’re built to keep a brand’s status high enough to justify everything else they sell. And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as you don’t pretend it’s for us.

The problem is the lie that comes afterward: the idea that what we’re looking at on the runway is what we’ll be seeing in our hands a season later. That’s the part nobody talks about. Couture is a dream sequence. Ready-to-wear is the reality. And those two worlds barely touch.

Walk into any store, and the racks don’t look anything like the runway collections. You’re not seeing the dramatic silhouettes or the extreme tailoring or the raw creativity. You’re seeing the “watered-down,” sellable versions. The commercially safe versions. The pieces designed to appeal to the widest audience possible.

Because ready-to-wear is where fashion houses make their real money. Couture doesn’t keep the lights on. Couture keeps the prestige up. Ready-to-wear keeps the doors open.

So, here’s the real question, “If we’re the ones buying the ready-to-wear, why aren’t we the ones in the runway seats?“

That’s the part that never sits right with me. The people who actually keep these brands alive aren’t the ones sitting front row. Instead, it’s the same circle of celebrities and influencers; people who aren’t buying but being paid to appear. People who don’t represent the customer but represent visibility. People the fashion houses use to create an image, not to tell a truth.

The unspoken rule seems to be, “You need millions of followers to be allowed in the room.” Not taste. Not style. Not loyalty to the brand. Not even genuine interest in fashion. Just numbers.

And if that’s the case, then what fashion is really saying is simple, “Your presence doesn’t matter. Your wallet does.“

That’s the piece nobody wants to acknowledge; the divide between the fantasy they sell and the reality they deliver. I don’t follow the Kardashians. I don’t care what they wear. And I’ve never agreed with the “You’re not part of this world” logic you see in The Devil Wears Prada. That whole mentality feels outdated, elitist, and completely disconnected from the people who actually buy the clothes.

Fashion shouldn’t be a gated community. It should reflect the people who move culture; the people who wake up, get dressed, and walk through the world every day with presence and purpose.

That’s why I’m having this conversation in the first place. Our voice matters because we come from the world couture pretends to inspire. We represent the real consumers; the ones spending real money, not the ones flown in to clap for fifteen minutes.

This isn’t an attack on fashion. This is an ask for honesty.

Why is the room reserved for people who don’t represent the culture, the customer base, or the streets that built half of these trends in the first place? Why is the fantasy celebrated while the reality is ignored? Why is the industry more interested in who looks good sitting down than who looks good walking through their real lives?

This article is only the beginning of that conversation.

CONS33TED isn’t here to tear fashion down. We’re here to ask why the doors remain closed to the people who actually fuel the industry, and why nobody seems to think we deserve a seat at the table.

This is the question we’re going to keep pressing until the industry answers it honestly.