The New Romantics weren’t just dressing up.

They were crafting entire worlds—through music, makeup, and clothing that broke the boundaries of what fashion was supposed to be. Emerging in the late 1970s and early 1980s in the UK, the movement was a reaction to the grey, post-punk cultural atmosphere. Unlike punk’s torn-up rebellion, the New Romantics sought escape. Into beauty, fantasy, and historical drama.

Their style pulled deeply from history. Think 18th-century ruffles, military jackets, and rich materials like satin and lace—luxury made theatrical. Many key silhouettes were drawn from past centuries: tight waists, exaggerated shoulders, and flowy, often genderless forms. Fashion became costume, and costume became identity.

But it wasn’t just about looks. It was about reimagining selfhood. The movement’s androgyny and roleplay-like aesthetic challenged gender binaries in a radical way. “The New Romantics offered a space where femininity and masculinity could be worn interchangeably,” writes historian Sarah Kenny in her work on youth subcultures (Kenny, 2023).

You could argue that it blurred the lines between haute couture and prêt-à-porter. Many of the garments looked like high fashion, but they weren’t made by ateliers. They were handmade, thrifted, or customised. This DIY couture gave the wearer total creative control, while nodding to the exclusivity and detail of high-end fashion. It was rebellious, sure. But also artful.

And this connection between fashion and identity? It was everything.

The New Romantics didn’t just wear clothes — they became their clothes. Clubs like Blitz in London turned into stages, with people showing up in entire personas. This kind of performative dressing allowed for experimentation, for creating a self that felt more real than real life. As one article put it, "Fashion was their form of fantasy, and fantasy their form of freedom" (Vintage Clothing Guides, 2023).

The fantasy wasn’t frivolous. It was political.

In Thatcher-era Britain, where jobs were disappearing and conservatism ruled, choosing to dress this way was resistance. Where society demanded conformity, the New Romantics wore gold brocade and eyeliner. It was a powerful message: We won't live in your reality. We'll build our own (Akbar, 2018).

And that legacy is still visible today.

Take Harris Reed, whose designs mix flamboyant silhouettes with historical touches. Crinolines, tulle, corsetry. Their pieces embrace a kind of new-age Romanticism that centers gender fluidity and self-expression. “Romanticism Gone Nonbinary” is how they describe it (Reed, 2023).

Or look at Charles Jeffrey LOVERBOY: his work is raw, expressive, and deeply rooted in British subculture. His collections are full of colour, folklore, and rebellion. He’s not copying the New Romantics; he’s channeling the same energy in a new voice (Jeffrey, 2024).

In the end, the New Romantics used fashion not just to look different, but to become different. That’s their real contribution. Not a trend, but a blueprint for anyone who wants to dress like a dream, and live like one too.