By Chloe Beaufoy
A funny thing happened on the way to my closet the other day, I realized my digital wardrobe is starting to feel more exciting than my real one. My avatar has gowns dripping in sequins, boots I could never walk in, and even a Balenciaga puffer that, let’s be honest, I could never afford. Meanwhile, my actual self was staring at the same black jeans and white shirt combo I’ve worn way too often.
Welcome to the era of digital fashion, where women are no longer just dressing for the streets or the office but for the screens. And not just Instagram screens, whole other worlds. Whether it’s Roblox, Zepeto, or metaverse platforms, women are investing in clothes their avatars can wear, and it’s not just for fun. It’s becoming status, creativity, and even business.
Take Gucci’s digital sneakers, for example. They released a pair that can only be worn in AR or on avatars, priced at $12.
Not $1,200. Not $120. Twelve dollars. It sold out. Why? Because for some women, wearing Gucci on TikTok is just as satisfying as having it in the closet. In fact, it’s sometimes even more liberating. Your avatar never worries about fit, dry cleaning, or painful blisters.
But here’s where it gets chicly messy: some women think digital fashion is genius, while others roll their eyes so hard I worry for their eyesight.
I asked my friend Toni in LA what she thought, and she laughed, “I can barely afford clothes for my real body. You think I’m buying for a cartoon one? Please.” She has a point. There’s something almost absurd about dropping money on a sparkly digital dress when rent is due.
Meanwhile, a cousin of mine in London is obsessed. She told me she spends more on her avatar than she does on her real wardrobe.
“In real life, I’m in sweats most of the time. But online, I get to be whoever I want. And people notice.” To her, digital fashion is not wasteful, it’s a smart way to play with identity without the clutter and costs of real clothes.
And honestly, isn’t that the essence of style? The chance to experiment, express, and play without rules. Digital fashion takes away the limits of budgets, body types, and even physics. Want a gown made entirely of floating glass petals? Done. Want to wear a dress that changes color with your mood? Easy. No tailor required.
Still, I wonder, are we losing touch with the romance of clothes when they only exist on a screen? There’s something about slipping into a silky dress, zipping it up, and feeling it skim your skin that no avatar can ever mimic. Fashion, in its most delicious form, is tactile. It whispers, it clings, it moves with you. You can’t get that from pixels.
But then again, isn’t fashion always about more than fabric? Think about Instagram culture. So many women already buy outfits just for the photo, then return them. Digital fashion is simply the next logical step, less wasteful and more inventive. You still get the photo, the vibe, the applause, without harming the planet with fast-fashion waste. In that way, maybe digital clothes are more real than the Zara haul you wear once and toss.
Here’s my take: digital fashion isn’t replacing real wardrobes. It’s creating a second one. We’re becoming women with dual closets, one for the tangible world, one for the virtual. One for sipping wine at dinner, one for strutting through digital runways.
And I think that’s okay. It’s not a betrayal of “real” fashion. It’s an expansion. After all, style has always been about imagination. Designers sketch impossible ideas before they ever reach a sewing machine. Now, those impossible ideas can live beautifully in pixels.
So yes, my avatar may wear a gown made of fireflies tonight while I sit in my trusty jeans. And that doesn’t make me less stylish, it makes me double stylish. The chicest women aren’t bound to one world anymore. They’re fluent in both.
Maybe the question isn’t Dressing avatars vs. dressing ourselves. Maybe the new era of fashion is about dressing both, unapologetically. Because why settle for one runway when you can walk two?
