Black Models, White Runways: Visibility vs. Inclusion
An analytical report on the fashion industry's diversity facade vs. real change
Credit: @Glamour UK
The Illusion of Change
Black models have never been more visible in fashion. You see them gracing the covers of major magazines, starring in luxury brand campaigns, and walking on the biggest runways from New York to Milan. The visuals say progress, the presence feels overdue. And yet, many are beginning to ask: is this true inclusion or just strategic optics?
The fashion industry has mastered the art of image, and that includes curating the idea of inclusivity. But visibility is only one part of the equation. Representation without decision-making power, long-term investment, or backstage support is incomplete.
This article takes a closer look at where fashion stands today. Through stats, expert insight, and firsthand voices, we unpack whether this new era of Black visibility on the runway has moved beyond surface-level change.
The Industry's Uneven Past
Fashion's relationship with Black beauty has long been complicated. While the 1960s and 70s introduced breakthrough names like Naomi Sims (the first Black model on the cover of Ladies’ Home Journal) and Beverly Johnson (the first Black woman on the cover of Vogue US in 1974), these appearances were framed as exceptional rather than foundational.
The 1980s and 90s saw icons like Iman, Tyra Banks, and Naomi Campbell achieve global recognition. But often, they were the only Black face in the room. They opened doors, but the rooms themselves didn’t change.
Despite their success, the fashion world largely treated Black models as trends not as constants. They were included when it suited a moment, and erased when it didn’t. The industry applauded their beauty but rarely offered them power, creative control, or influence beyond the lens.
The Numbers Look Better, But What Do They Mean?
Recent diversity reports show undeniable gains. According to The Fashion Spot, Spring 2022 Fashion Week was the most diverse ever, with 48 percent of models being people of color. Black models represented about 19 percent of total castings across the four major cities. That’s up from less than 10 percent in the early 2010s.
Campaigns are also improving. Vogue, Gucci, Balmain, and Valentino have centered Black models in major advertisements. Influencers like Anok Yai and Adut Akech are now regulars on both editorial and commercial stages.
But while these numbers are cause for celebration, they often don’t tell the whole story. Visibility can exist alongside exclusion. Who gets to model is changing, but who casts the models, selects the creative directors, or signs the budgets often hasn’t.
According to BoF and McKinsey’s The State of Fashion 2023, only 5 percent of leadership positions in major fashion companies are held by Black professionals. In other words, what we see may be changing, but who decides what we see is not.
Supermodels: Iman, Anok Yai, Naomi Sims and Adut Akech. Credits: @Elle, @WWD and @Vogue
Behind the Glamour: Lived Experience
No one understands this better than the models themselves.
Leomie Anderson, a British model and activist, has repeatedly spoken out about arriving backstage to find no makeup for her skin tone or stylists unsure how to handle her natural hair. “Being a Black model means you need to bring your own foundation and advocate for yourself every time,” she told BBC News.
Anok Yai, the first Sudanese model to open a Prada show, described her success as a statement: not just about herself, but about what has been long overdue for Black women. “They’ll let you in, but they don’t always make space for you to stay,” she told The Cut.
These stories, echoed by many others, reflect a fashion culture that may spotlight diversity in its imagery but remains unprepared behind the curtain. It reveals a gap between what the industry wants to look like and what it actually is.
Power Behind the Curtain: Inclusion vs Optics
Real inclusion is not just about being seen, it’s about being heard, trusted, and paid.
Behind every show or campaign is a network of decision-makers: casting directors, editors, PR teams, photographers, and creative directors. These roles remain overwhelmingly white. And when the people in power don’t represent the people on the runway, diversity becomes a styling choice rather than a core value.
Many brands issued public commitments to diversity in 2020 following the global Black Lives Matter protests. But since then, several have failed to follow up on those promises with structural change. Public statements were made; Black creatives were hired for short-term projects. But few brands set measurable goals or shared progress reports.
Inclusion cannot be seasonal. It must be systemic.
What Progress Really Looks Like
Some brands and creatives are walking the walk.
Credit: @Vanity Fair
Telfar Clemens, founder of Telfar, has built a fashion label that prioritizes accessibility, community, and racial equity at every level. His famous "not for you for everyone" tagline captures a true rethinking of luxury.
Kerby Jean-Raymond of Pyer Moss has used fashion shows as platforms for storytelling, politics, and unapologetic Black pride. His work blends activism with art and challenges the industry's eurocentric gaze.
Aurora James launched the 15 Percent Pledge, asking retailers to commit at least 15 percent of their shelf space to Black-owned brands. So far, companies like Sephora, Macy’s, and Nordstrom have signed on a tangible sign of equity in the marketplace.
These efforts don’t just change imagery. They shift power. And that’s where true inclusion begins.
Seeing Is Not Belonging
It is easy to be impressed by the growing presence of Black models in fashion. But we must look deeper.
Representation on the runway is only the beginning. Inclusion means hiring Black casting agents, photographers, art directors, and executives. It means changing who gets to shape fashion’s narrative, not just who poses for it.
The face of fashion may be changing. But until its foundation does too, visibility will always fall short of equity.
The next time we see a stunning campaign or runway moment, the real question is this: who got to tell that story and who was left out?