Sally Hemings. I’m currently obsessed with the narratives of slaves. The varied experiences never cease to amaze me. I keep them etched in my brain as a reminder of how resilient we really are as a people.

8:33 a.m. I’m cracking open the week’s packages one by one. There are 20 to 30 — a combination of gifts, things from Black-owned businesses that they want us to review, and some celeb stuff. For the most part, I try to have some stuff go to my office, but since we’re blurring lines with the pandemic, I’ve just been having it come straight to one place.

10:45 a.m. Head out to meet Chris so we can set up a rack for Karol G before heading into a fitting. The first thing I usually try to do with fittings is see what makes the client’s face light up, then I’ll start with those things that they’re most excited about. Typically, the trickiest part is the alterations because you want to make sure they hold up and last, but not damage the garment. On this day, everything went smoothly.

5:33 p.m. After grabbing a bowl of fried tofu with veggies and grits at Souley Vegan, I head to my office to work on a new project with Chris. We’re trying to start a virtual reality character for the site. She’ll be dressed in the Black-owned brands and you can follow her day-to-day.

8 p.m. We realize we should probably stop working and head home to pack for a shoot in San Francisco. When I fly, I have to have my travel blanket (right now, it’s Burberry), my memory foam neck pillow and a sleep mask — I can never stay awake on a plane, even if it’s just an hourlong flight.

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New York Fashion Week Will Be a Thing Again

In 2017, four prominent young American fashion brands decided that they would show their new collections on the runways of Paris.

These were largely business decisions and would mean little to the average customer. But cumulatively, within the fashion industry, they constituted an exodus: confirmation of a broader nagging feeling that New York Fashion Week, which typically had attracted 150,000 attendees every February and September, was losing its cachet.

For the next three years, that narrative persisted: New York Fashion Week was either dying or already dead. (Even after two of those departing brands, Proenza Schouler and Rodarte, came back to New York in 2018.)

Now, one long quarantine later, there are signs of resurrection.

The other half of the departed — Altuzarra and Thom Browne — will return to NYFW in September after three years in Paris. All but Mr. Browne are committed to staying in New York for at least three more seasons.

produces the “NYFW: The Shows” calendar, sponsored this year by the “buy now, pay later” start-up Afterpay.

In exchange for a pledge to remain until 2022, IMG will help fund and provide support for a total of 11 designers’ shows or events, which can cost upward of six figures. The goal, IMG said Wednesday when announcing the incentive program: “Ensuring a bold return and bright future” for New York Fashion Week.

It comes as no surprise that IMG, which represents models, photographers, production designers, stylists, hair and makeup artists and more, wants fashion to return to the runway, after 18 months of collections presented largely through “digital activations” (a lot of short films and look books).

2019 report on the economics of fashion week.

Outside the outsize bubble of Spring Studios, IMG’s fashion headquarters, there are more signs of life for New York Fashion Week. The highly anticipated America-themed Met Gala has moved from May to September to close out NYFW. Pyer Moss, arguably the city’s buzziest brand, will also show in September, ending a two-year runway hiatus. Tom Ford, president of the Council of Fashion Designers of America, announced Monday that he will present a collection, too.

For Joseph Altuzarra, the decision to bring his runway shows back to New York — much like his decision four years ago to take them to Paris, where he was born and raised — was “a very emotional, personal decision.” He made it while working in the city during the pandemic.

“I felt a really strong kinship with the city that I hadn’t felt as deeply in a long time,” Mr. Altuzarra said. “I missed the energy.”

He felt that despite best efforts, no brand had found a “compelling substitute for a show,” he said. The civility of IMG’s initiative also appealed to him. Several designers, including Mr. Altuzarra, signed a letter last May pledging to adhere to a more reasonable seasonal shopping calendar — a rare show of cooperation in fashion.

“Prepandemic, there was very much a sense that everyone was doing their own thing,” he said. “People are so much more open now to thinking about different models and different ways in which we can do things, and building community.”

iconoclastic label headed by the designer Telfar Clemens and the artistic director Babak Radboy. Though its last two live presentations were in Florence and Paris, the fiercely independent company is hardly known for traditional runway shows — more like palace sleepovers and after-parties at discount department stores — and recoils from industry associations (including words like “alliance”).

inauguration, held his first-ever runway show a month before the pandemic, at Spring Studios. It was a lifelong dream, Mr. Hudson said, but then “we pretty much made no sales for the season.”

He hopes a revitalized New York Fashion Week will help business. The more editors, buyers and other various decision makers descend on New York to see the clothes in person — to experience the energy of the room — the better a designer’s chance of survival within the traditional system.

But Mr. Hudson is equally driven by the emotion of it all. He sees this as an opportunity “to show the world that yes, we are a fashion capital,” he said. “And yes, we have something to say, as far as how women should dress.”

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India’s Fashion Artisans Face ‘Extreme Distress’ in Pandemic

Saddam Sekh used to be a floor supervisor at a steamy Indian workshop in Mumbai that produced orders for an exporter working with some of the biggest names in luxury fashion, including Dior and Gucci. Day and night, he would watch as the karigars — an Urdu term for the highly skilled artisans who specialize in handicrafts like embroidery, beading and appliqué — stitched designer gowns destined for the Hollywood red carpet, or ornate samples for runway shows in Milan and Paris.

But when the coronavirus pandemic took hold, their work slammed to a halt, the backbone of the Indian garment supply chain quickly crumbling as millions of migrant laborers scattered across the country. More than a year later — as India races to contain a second wave of the coronavirus, centered in Mumbai, with further lockdowns — many of those employed by the Indian fashion industry are struggling to adjust to a harsh new reality.

“The factory is currently shut because there is no work — it’s a big zero now,” Mr. Sekh said, adding that some of the artisans were working instead as day laborers for 200 to 300 rupees, or $2.50 to $4, per day. One ended up in a biscuit factory, another in plastics and another in farming. Some were calling from their villages, pleading for loans, but the managers and supervisors themselves are in dire financial straits. For now, the factory gates remain locked.

falling short on upholding basic labor rights like fair wages even before the lockdown occurred.

Lakmé Fashion Week in Mumbai. And vaccination efforts have been increasing.

But pandemic-related fears are widespread in a densely populated country with one of the worst death tolls, as is public skepticism — especially among laborers like karigars — about the safety and efficacy of Covid-19 shots offered by the government. Most karigars are Muslim men, an increasingly socially marginalized position as Prime Minister Narendra Modi tries to pull the country away from its foundation as a secular, multicultural nation and turn it into a more overtly Hindu state.

job at a factory providing embroidery work for Saint Laurent in March last year after he complained about low pay and tried to approach a union for representation, he found another post at a subcontractor for one of the Indian exporters that helped create Utthan.

That factory is now open. But while managers paid workers during the lockdown, fewer orders were coming in. That meant no overtime pay, which previously made up a quarter of Mr. Khan’s income. He resorted to selling sports shoes at the roadside after work.

“We are not getting orders. There is very little work,” Mr. Khan said. “Now, I am standing on the road at night with the shoes in front of me. What else can I do?”

Kritika Sony contributed reporting.

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