Music has always shaped what people wear. From underground jazz clubs in the 1920s to stadium tours in 2024, fashion has been a way to tell the world what kind of music you listen to before anyone hears a single note. Some of it is conscious, some of it just happens. Either way, every major music movement has had a look to match.
Jazz, Glamour and the Birth of Nightlife Fashion
If you walked into a speakeasy in the 1920s, you could tell who the regulars were. The women in beaded fringe, silk, and dropped-waist dresses weren’t just dressing for style. Those outfits were built to move, made for dancing the Charleston until the early hours. The sharp suits, two-tone shoes, and fedoras weren’t just for the band. The men in the crowd were taking their cues from them. Jazz wasn’t just a new sound. It was a new attitude, and fashion followed.
That same shift happened again and again. The music changed, and suddenly, the way people dressed changed too.
Style as a Signifier of Sound
By the 60s, you didn’t even need to ask what someone listened to. You could tell just by looking at them. Mods and Rockers had completely different uniforms, and it wasn’t just about personal style. It was a statement.
Your parka, your Vespa, your Fred Perry polo, that was your badge. Rockers, on the other hand, wore leather like armor. They were into Elvis and Chuck Berry, not The Who or soul records imported from Detroit. You didn’t mix the two up. If you saw someone on the street in a leather jacket, you knew where they stood. And they knew where you stood too. Sometimes that was enough to start a fight.
It wasn’t just rock. In the clubs, disco was building its own fashion identity. Studio 54 wasn’t just about the music. It was about being seen. Sequins, metallic fabrics, wide-leg trousers, platform heels. Everything had to catch the light. Diana Ross, Donna Summer, Grace Jones. What they wore on stage set the tone for what people wore on the dance floor.
At the same time, the mini skirt was making its mark. Mary Quant’s design wasn’t just about fashion. It was about movement. Women weren’t sitting still anymore. They were out, dancing to Motown, soul, and beat music. The mini skirt wasn’t just a look. It was part of the soundtrack.
The Freedom of the 70s and the Rise of Subcultural Style
The 70s had no rules. Music wasn’t just one thing, and neither was the fashion.
Punk was about chaos. Ripped shirts, safety pins, DIY everything. Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren didn’t just sell clothes. They gave punk a uniform. Bands like The Sex Pistols and The Clash weren’t just making music. They were giving people a way to dress against the system.
Glam rock was the complete opposite. High-drama, high-shine, built for spectacle. Bowie’s satin jumpsuits, Marc Bolan’s glitter-covered jackets, platform boots bigger than the stage itself. It was exaggerated, theatrical, impossible to ignore.
Funk was in a league of its own. If rock had leather, funk had colour. Parliament-Funkadelic, James Brown, Prince in his early days. Bright suits, wide collars, full confidence. You knew funk when you saw it.
The Rave Scene, Hip-Hop and the Shift to Streetwear
By the 80s and 90s, two movements completely reshaped fashion.
Hip-hop built an entire industry around style. Tracksuits, Adidas Superstars, Kangol hats, gold chains. Everything about early hip-hop fashion was aspirational. Run-D.M.C. took sneakers off the basketball court and made them essential. Aaliyah changed the blueprint for effortless cool with baggy jeans and sports bras. Wu-Tang Clan made Timberlands feel like high fashion. What started in New York spread worldwide. The rise of streetwear was unstoppable.
Meanwhile, electronic music had its own look. The late-80s and early-90s rave scene had a dress code, whether people realised it or not. Baggy jeans, neon colours, smiley face logos, oversized t-shirts. The clothes were practical, designed to last through hours of dancing, but they also became a recognisable aesthetic.
Techno was different. Stripped-down, darker, more industrial. Think warehouses, black mesh, utilitarian outerwear and heavy boots. The style wasn’t about trend. It was about function, anonymity and edge.
The 90s also saw a clear divide between scenes. Nirvana didn’t just bring grunge to the charts, they brought a new kind of uniform. Flannel shirts, ripped jeans, old Converse, layered thermals. It was anti-fashion that accidentally became fashion. You knew the difference between someone who listened to Nirvana and someone who didn’t. Just like you knew who was showing up for rave, or hip-hop, or punk.
Even today, the connection is clear. A girl introduced to Fleetwood Mac by her parents might end up in Isabel Marant fringe and suede. Someone revisiting Britney’s In the Zone is suddenly searching for vintage Cavalli. What people wear is still shaped by what they’re listening to, or rediscovering.
Modern Music, Modern Uniforms
Concerts today are more than live performances. They’re immersive fashion moments with distinct aesthetics shaped by each artist’s visual world.
Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour turned stadiums into album-themed spaces. Fans showed up in looks that matched each era. Pastel and tulle for Lover, dark sequins for Reputation, earthy knits for Folklore.
Beyoncé’s Renaissance Tour went in a different direction. Silver, chrome, latex. Fans built their outfits around the visuals of the show. The result was a crowd that mirrored the aesthetic of the stage.
Charli XCX’s Brat era is built around high-energy, high-gloss club culture. Fans are showing up in metallics, sheer layers, vinyl, and low-rise everything. It’s electro-pop meets early 2000s rave, with a heavy dose of Tumblr-era attitude. It’s fast, chaotic, and completely committed to the mood.
Music isn’t just part of what inspires people to dress a certain way. It’s shaped the way designers build collections. Hedi Slimane’s work at Saint Laurent and Celine pulled directly from the indie and rock scenes. Alessandro Michele’s Gucci channelled glam, psychedelia and punk. Rick Owens designs to a personal soundtrack of noise and industrial music, which often comes through in the intensity of his shows. Jean Paul Gaultier and Vivienne Westwood didn’t just reference music, they dressed the artists defining entire eras.
Music as Identity, Fashion as Evidence
You can tell what kind of music someone listens to by how they dress. That’s always been true.
Grunge still means flannel and ripped denim. Hip-hop is still shaping streetwear. Techno still leans into black, functional, industrial silhouettes. Punk is still about graphic tees and deconstruction.
Fashion and music don’t just cross paths. They build on each other. Musicians set trends, designers respond, and entire movements take shape around the exchange. What people wear has always reflected what they listen to. And for the past hundred years, music has been setting the tone.
