The (New) Fashion Renegades: Inside London’s Underground Fashion Scene
London’s DIY scene is buzzing again — this time with safety pins, recycled denim, and queer joy. VAGUE Resident Benedetta investigates how the city is rebuilding its cool from the ground up.
On August 21, the Grey launched its second issue at the Divine. Described as a “fashion-adjacent platform consisting of a physical magazine, online blog, online chat server and community event series,” its concept fits well into the DIY ethos that has cemented itself in London’s underground fashion scene. From repurposed ravewear — think fishnets turned into tops and ready-to-sweat couture — to mending and upcycling workshops that double as community-building events, Londoners seem to be craving physicality and sensoriality, be it fabrics to feel or pages to glue together.
At the launch, guests could take part in a badge-making station and an upcycling corner, where a busy seamstress was on hand to jazz up old garments, from adding studs or patches to artfully symmetrical rips. A thoughtful initiative, considering that nothing is more sustainable than mending, repurposing, and ultimately cherishing what we own.
However, the amount of work that goes into organising events like this needs to be acknowledged. Daisy, founder of the Grey, explains that being part of the counterculture — unless one happens to be a ‘nepo baby’ — is anything but easy. Many creatives know all too well the burnout that comes from balancing full-time work with side projects and freelance commitments. “A lot of the people driving the alternative fashion scene, whether that's hosting queer nightlife, organising markets for indie makers or hosting accessible educational events are doing amazing things with very little support,” says Daisy.
“... being part of the counterculture — unless one happens to be a ‘nepo baby’ — is anything but easy.”
And there are many collectives catering to Londoners’ growing appetite for experiential, community-driven alternatives that are more rewarding than queueing for hours to get into an archive sale, for example. These gatherings are as much about making or going home with a new garment as they are about meeting new people. Conversations might be sparked over thread and needle, a hot-glue gun, or even a slice of cake. With the cost of living crisis reshaping consumer behaviour — 43% of UK consumers plan to shop less, while 24% intend to buy more second-hand or upcycled products — fashion lovers are rethinking what fashion and fashion consumption mean to them. The fleeting dopamine hit of fast fashion is losing its appeal, giving way to experiences that foster participation, creativity, and genuine connection.
Take the London Lace Club, whose anti-capitalist mission is to revive the ancient craft of bobbin lacemaking. Led by experts and fashion designers Lauren Watson and Amelia White, their workshops emphasise not only the skill of the craft but also its community aspect: gathering in person to create something on which to imprint a memory and personal meaning. Across the city, the Eltham Lacemakers also meet up regularly to learn the craft. Whilst not geared towards selling their pieces, they do care deeply about carving out time to learn and support each other; so much so that they created a special device for a fellow member with a physical disability affecting her hands, enabling her to find and move the right bobbins with ease. Margaret Vick, who leads the group, calls it “a token of love”; inclusivity at its best.
On the more retail end of the experiential spectrum, there’s Jake’s, the shopping project by Jake Burt inspired by Tracey Emin and Sarah Lucas’ The Shop. Described as a “faceless gallery-style space,” Jake’s sells unique pieces made by both Burt and longtime collaborator Stefan Cooke, as well as archive Stefan Cooke samples and various passion projects made by friends of the two designers. Beyond your typical retail experience, it has also become a hangout spot for niche fashion enthusiasts, photographers, stylists and students to cross paths. They even sell pastries, courtesy of Louis Thompson, a Stefan Cooke model-turned-baker. As Orla Brennan notes, “Opened for the pure love of doing it, Jake’s works so well because it’s not simply a store — it’s personal.” Once again, fashion becomes a vehicle for congregation and connection.
For this community-led culture to thrive however, there must be spaces where these communities can gather. As Daisy tells us, “These spaces are increasingly hard to find and where they do exist, they're expensive. Spots like the Divine, which is an amazing queer venue in Dalston, are hubs of so much raw talent, arts, culture, ingenuity and most importantly, a warm and welcoming space for people who get left out of a lot of mainstream spaces.”
And this is precisely why the opening of the Divine, born from the ashes of the Glory, felt so significant: a new safe, queer-friendly space where people can create, experiment, and celebrate together. This is especially important considering that London has suffered considerable losses, with more than half of its LGBTQ+ venues closing between 2006 and 2022. Even the Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club — a beloved, community-owned East London institution with over 100 years of history — was served an eviction notice in 2024.
“For this community-led culture to thrive however, there must be spaces where these communities can gather.”
The notice prompted the creation of a “fighting fund,” and supporters quickly rallied, surpassing the initial £14,000 goal, as well as a subsequent £18,000 target. Their current aim is for the council to purchase the club and lease it back to the Friends of Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, or to allow the group to buy the building outright. This determination to preserve safe and inclusive spaces for gathering and creativity underlines the vital role they play in London’s cultural scene.
After all, as Daisy says, “Accessible, grassroots creative venues are a big reason that London continues to be a fashion capital. Without them, I think we will lose a lot of the work that 'underdogs' and 'outsiders' are doing.”
These initiatives show us that fashion can be a collaborative act and conversation catalyst. In a time when cultural hubspots are constantly at risk of being closed and many creatives struggle to find place for aggregation, these creatives and spaces provide not just products, but purpose. And as long as there are venues like the Divine — and communities willing to fight for cult venues like Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club — one can hope that London's fashion renegades will continue to fight and thrive.
credits
words — benedetta mancusi
design — karina so.