How a humble strip of walkway changed fashion forever

Despite usually lasting less than 15 minutes, the modern runway show often demands months of preparation, hundreds of thousands of dollars and an army of highly skilled technicians, set builders and tailors. Yet these fleeting displays have the power to cement a designer’s legacy.

Even if you’re not a devout follower of fashion, you may be familiar with some seminal runway moments — the spray-painting robots used in Alexander McQueen’s Spring-Summer 1999 show, for example, or the time Chanel launched a life-sized rocket ship during its Fall-Winter 2017 presentation. And if you did miss them, both these revolutionary runways are part of a new London exhibition, “Vogue: Inventing the Runway,” at the Lightroom.

Projected onto the venue’s 39-foot-high walls, a mixture of backstage and runway footage transports viewers into the epicenter of fashion history. “This is an opportunity to bring people into the experience,” said Chioma Nnadi, the head of editorial content at British Vogue, at the show’s opening.

“They get a suggestion of (what it’s like to attend a runway show) on their phone, but this is the full immersive experience,” she added.

In the social media age, the emphasis on memorable catwalk moments has only intensified. Today, designers must also consider an audience extending far beyond those seated in the front row.

Footage from John Galliano’s theatrical Maison Margiela Fall-Winter 2025 show, which took place in the dank underbelly of Paris’ Pont Alexandre III bridge in January, has been watched over 2.5 million times on X. Similarly, Saint Laurent’s most recent show in Paris attracted millions of extra eyeballs on social media — mainly to witness Bella Hadid’s return to the runway in an oversized suit and slicked-back bun. Last month, a clip of groundbreaking transgender model Alex Consani strutting the Victoria’s Secret catwalk in a pair of plush, satin angel wings racked up more than 16 million views, also on X. Luxury fashion — and its high price tags — may still cater to the few, but the spectacle of a runway has become mainstream entertainment.

But it wasn’t always this way. Those who watched Pharrell Williams take over the Pont Neuf bridge in Paris last summer for Louis Vuitton may find this difficult to imagine, but the fashion catwalk was once a low-key affair.

Runways can be traced back to the mid-19th century, when dressmakers such as Charles Fredrick Worth replaced mannequins with live models and opened up the back rooms of their ateliers to trusted clients. “(Worth) took the step of inviting people to his salon in Paris and showing them what he had to offer,” Dr. Kate Strasdin, fashion historian at England’s Falmouth University, told CNN in a phone interview. “It really switched the dissemination of what was fashionable on its head.”

Previously, dressmakers worked to specifications laid out by their customers. Clients would dictate the fabric and style of what they wanted made, which was often based on what they saw in the fashion press or worn by their friends. But Worth and other luminaries, such as the British seamstress Lucy, Lady Duff-Gordon, decided to put their creative vision first. They evolved from dressmakers to designers, largely thanks to the concept of the runway. “(They were) saying, ‘I’ll invite you to my salon and I’ll show you what I’ve got, and then you’ll be inspired and want to order something from me,’” said Strasdin. “The runway did open up a whole other world of engaging with fashion beyond your immediate circle.”

Different, too, was the layout. There were no theatrics or narrow runways at these early fashion shows, just a handful of carefully selected models (chosen for embodying a certain “je ne sais quoi” rather than particular height or body measurements) weaving between guests as they walked around the room. These were casual affairs, lasting an entire evening as opposed to the brusque, minutes-long time frame of modern catwalks. “It was more of an event,” Strasdin told CNN. “People would come and spend more time, perusing things afterwards or having conversations… There was more opportunity to engage.”

Years later, in the early 20th century, Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel would stage intimate catwalks on the first floor of her apartment building in Paris; tucking herself away to watch the procession of models — and the audience’s reaction — in the reflection of her mirrored staircase. Cristóbal Balenciaga’s runways were similarly exclusive, with journalists banned from attending entirely in the 1950s. (He also somewhat dramatically banned Italians, after discovering an “underground copying ring” selling mock-up garments to New York). Yet while the allure of the private, salon-style show endures — Marie-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s label, The Row, prohibited the use of phones at its February show — the industry generally considers bigger to be better.

“It’s such a powerful tool for designers and brands to make a statement about who they are, what they stand for and what their creative vision is,” said Nnadi.

“Vogue: Inventing the Runway” explores the cultural evolution of catwalk shows, from Worth’s private studio demonstrations through to the impossible fantasy of the late Karl Lagerfeld’s productions.

Included in this whistle-stop tour are some of the industry’s most provocative, glamorous and awe-inspiring moments, such as McQueen’s hallowed Spring-Summer 2001 show, “Voss,” in which he sat the audience behind four walls made from double-sided mirrors so he could control what they saw and when. For almost two hours before the show began, he reflected the photographers and attendees back to themselves — facilitating an uncomfortable confrontation and sending a message on the rabid consumerism of fashion. “It was a landmark in cultural history,” says Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour’s voice as the footage rolls.

But larger-than-life theatrics are no longer reserved for blockbuster brands like McQueen, Chanel and Dior — now, even smaller names must join the circus if they want to be seen. “Inventing the Runway” reminds us of recent viral moments: the controversial butterfly-filled terrariums at Japanese label Undercover’s show in Paris last year, or Coperni’s now-iconic spray-on dress from 2022. “It’s much more about brand visibility,” said Strasdin. “People aren’t shopping at these shows, these are performances.”

The shows featured in Vogue’s exhibition were selected on the basis of whether they “moved the needle” or not, explained Nnadi. “I wouldn’t say it’s an exhaustive list,” she added. “There are shows that we weren’t able to include that I think changed the world of fashion. So this is really a snapshot of the last 100 years.”

Extravagance alone does not make a runway iconic, and Nnadi has a way of differentiating what is worthy of reflection from what’s just smoke and mirrors.

“It’s about having an emotional response,” she said. “If I feel the hair standing on the back of my neck, or I’m thinking about the show long after the 10 minutes I’ve been at it, then that’s what I would call a great show.”