Everyone’s a designer now.
But for every new “luxury” brand that pops up online, the quality seems to fade a little more.
The question is, ‘are we creating fashion, or just creating buzz?’
There’s this sudden rush, everyone wants to own a fashion brand.
Open Instagram on any random day and you’ll see it:
“New collection dropping soon.”
“DM to shop.”
“We deliver nationwide.”
It’s like fashion suddenly became the new “easy entry” business in Nigeria.

Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing people chase their dreams, create, and express themselves through fashion. It’s beautiful that more young Nigerians are stepping into the creative scene. But lately, it’s starting to feel… crowded.
Not because of how many people are doing it, but because of how similar and rushed everything is.
Everyone wants to have a “brand,” but very few want to learn the craft.
The Nigerian fashion scene is buzzing, energetic, loud, alive.
But somewhere in all that excitement, the line between passion and pressure is blurring.
Right now, there’s a wave of brands charging premium prices while delivering less quality. The kind of “luxury” that looks good on the ’gram but falls apart after one wash. And somehow, we’ve normalized it.
It’s almost as if everyone wants the title, Creative Director. Founder. Fashion CEO.
But not the late nights. Not the trial and error. Not the years of learning what actually makes good design.
Visibility has become more important than mastery.
And fashion, somehow, is starting to look less like a journey to create and more like a race to be seen.
The truth is, “luxury” has lost its meaning.
It’s not about charging eighty thousand naira for a twenty-thousand-naira fit. It’s not about imported fabrics or curated photoshoots. Luxury is about care, about the hands that sew, the thought behind the design, the finish that still looks perfect months later.
A piece doesn’t become luxury because it’s expensive; it becomes luxury because it makes you feel something. Because it tells a story, even without words.
But then again, does every fashion brand need a story?
Does every outfit have to be “inspired by childhood memories and moonlight”? Not necessarily. Some designers simply love creating, exploring form, fabric, and texture. That’s enough.

Still, when a brand does have a story, even a quiet one, it changes everything. It gives the work heart. It makes people connect.
Your story doesn’t have to be dramatic. It could be as simple as:
“I just wanted to design clean, timeless pieces that fit beautifully.”
Or,
“This collection was inspired by the colors of my childhood in Port Harcourt.”
That’s still a story and it matters. Because stories make people remember you, and quality makes them return.
None of this is hate. It’s a wake-up call.
Fashion is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to reflect care, thought, and innovation, not just clout and hashtags. But lately, the noise is drowning out the real work.

And it makes me wonder: what will the future of Nigerian fashion really look like?
When the hype fades, when trends die down, who will still be standing?
Will we be known for craftsmanship and storytelling, or just another wave of copied designs and overpriced fits?
Because as much as I love what’s happening, the energy, the creativity, the hunger, I also worry.
Are we truly building an industry, or are we just creating a moment?