In the mid twentieth century, making a dress or an evening gown was a deeply personal project. The fabric was chosen with care, the design was drawn by hand, and bodies were measured so that each piece fit as if it were an extension of the wearer. Clothing was not just a commodity but an expression of an intimate relationship between a person and what they wore. But with the rise of the industrial revolution and later globalization, fashion gradually began to slide toward fast production, excessive abundance, and endless consumption.
Fast fashion brands emerged, and clothing shifted from being a necessity to becoming a daily habit of consumption. A new piece every week, a new trend every month, and an endless cycle of temptation and impulse. Yet, as with every social phenomenon, when the pendulum reaches its farthest swing, it begins to return.
This is what we witness today in the world of fashion: a deliberate return to craftsmanship, to pieces made with patience, imbued with story, touch, and depth. Fast fashion is no longer as enticing as it once was; it has become a source of fatigue. The pieces look alike, fade quickly, wear out, and are replaced without value. Over time, the consumer begins to feel that they are not really wearing clothes, but consuming themselves with every cycle of purchase.
And because the social pendulum always tends to self correct, a new wave of appreciation has emerged today for handiwork, for time, and for mastery. In cafés, exhibitions, and design platforms, words like “handmade,” “locally sourced,” “woven slowly,” and “one of a kind” are heard again and again. These are not marketing slogans but a deep cultural response to the visual and temporal exhaustion brought on by fast fashion.
Recent market data shows that the global handicrafts market exceeded 906 billion dollars in 2024 and is expected to reach 1.94 trillion dollars by 2033, with a compound annual growth rate of 8.8 percent, according to a GlobeNewswire report. In the United States alone, the market was estimated at 268 billion dollars, with around 32 percent of handicraft buyers belonging to Millennials and Gen Z. This points to a clear rise in younger generations’ appreciation for products with symbolic and artisanal value.
In the United Kingdom, the number of young people who prefer to buy handmade products has doubled since 2006. A study by Mintel shows that 85 percent of Millennials favor products made responsibly and sustainably.
Even the younger generation, born into the height of digital speed, is leaning toward pieces with a story rather than just a label. It’s increasingly common to see young men and women attending knitting workshops, taking pride in wearing something made by their mother or grandmother, or seeking out brands that echo traditional craftsmanship with high quality. Quality, not quantity, has once again become the measure of beauty and satisfaction.
This shift is less about nostalgia and more about awareness. Traditional fashion—despite its limited tools—was far more respectful of people and resources: no waste, no surplus, no exploitation of labor. Just a garment tailored for a specific body, worn with care, and mended when needed.
Amid this fluctuation, the fashion industry is left asking: do we continue producing and consuming mindlessly, or do we return to deliberate choices rooted in value and quality? At this moment, the shift seems clear from quantity to meaning, from fast purchases to longer lasting relationships with what we wear.
This article is supported by the King Abdulaziz Center for World Culture (Ithra) and the Cultural Development Fund as part of the #Ithra_Arabic_Content_Initiative.
