Where Are All The Hot People?: The Intersection of Fashion and Techno... and Its Consequences

If you step foot into a New York City club in 2024, no matter the space's prestige or exclusivity, you might tap into your inner Michael Scott and wonder, “where are all the hot people?” The answer lies in a warehouse in Bushwick.

I found myself at my first rave just over two years ago. I had been living in Manhattan for a couple of years and was deeply enamored with the city's club scene (like every good, naive transplant.) Throwing on my most beaten up pair of Manolos, hugging the bouncer, drinking a few too many martinis with the same thirty familiar faces whom I saw three times a week (but never during daylight), and sitting at the booth to escape dancing to worn out top-forty remixes was my ritual. The excessive repetition of it all served as a kind of reliable comfort.

Then I met Blue. His unfamiliar alternative demeanor and perfectly imperfect appearance that towered over me took over my psyche. When he suggested that I join him and his eastern European friends to rave in Brooklyn, I couldn’t resist. “You can’t dress like how you normally do to go out,” he warned me, “wear all black and wear something you can dance in.” As I threw on a kitschy bedazzled black jumpsuit, braided my hair, and reached for my comfiest pair of heels to finish the look, Blue shook his head, “no, put on your Asics, you’ll thank me later.” 

As we arrived at Basement, a techno space on the border between East Williamsburg and Queens, a doorman who paid no mind to our appearance greeted us warmly, only checking our $25 ticket, and covering our phone cameras with stickers to prevent photos or videos. The insistence on living in the moment was foreign to me. We walked the ominous red-lit tunnel and crossed the threshold to the club entrance.

We emerged into a vast and open arena made up entirely of concrete and brick. There was not a table or booth in sight; bleachers were the sole form of seating. The myriad of red flashing lights followed the rhythm of the alternative techno melodies, moving at around 130 beats per minute. I found myself in a kaleidoscope of individuals dressed in ensembles ranging from latex unitards to striped t-shirts and jorts. They moved viscerally and childlike to the music while mindfully respecting one another's space and energy. There was not a promoter or kitten heel in sight. 

As I instinctively glided my feet and swayed my arms to the beat that seemed to thump throughout my body, I felt every person in the room disappear. I wondered, “why would anyone confine themselves to the conventions of mainstream Manhattan clubs when they could let go in such an artful way?” Apparently I was not the first to come up with this. 

As I’ve returned to Basement and other various techno spots over the past couple of years, I have witnessed the space evolve into a safe haven for creatives, scorned by the sovereign norms of Manhattan nightlife. For many, the exclusive, antiquated, and often prejudiced traditions of club culture are simply no longer fun. Instead, the diverse, creative, and open individuals that techno attracts is just as alluring as the experimental and stimulating music. The magnetic experience of rave culture has since exploded amongst the creative New York scene, specifically amongst the fashion industry. Runway models who are refined and coiffured to perfection day in and day out, can be spotted frivolously contorting their sweat covered bodies on the dancefloor. They sport ironic t-shirts that read HOT MODEL SEX, leather harnesses, and chrome sunglasses. The entire scene is reminiscent of the 90’s party shots of Paris and Brittany, carefree and messy after slavishly remaining flawless and poised for the camera. 

The unification of the techno and fashion scene has created an outbreak of new events related to the subculture. Brands as notable as Jean Paul Gaulier had their finger on the pulse during NYFW Spring/Summer 24’ season, jointly hosting a rave with KNWLS and SSENCE. Attendees included eccentric A-listers, like Dodja Cat, Matt Healy, and Julia Fox. Visual projections, endless light displays, and all night ambient deep bass techno flooded the space.

As all the cool kids flock to Brooklyn to free themselves from the shackles of perfection, even the most luxurious Manhattan clubs’ clientele slowly devolves into Fashion Nova models and finance suits with receding hairlines. An energetic shift, however, is not only true for the aforementioned burrough.

About a month ago, during my last visit to Basement, I was asked to remove my coat to ensure that my ensemble fit the “vibe”, and a family member of my friend was asked to leave because she seemed too “buttoned up.” Has the outbreak of the rave aesthetics’ popularity pushed a culture that was once meant to be a lighthearted and inclusive community to becoming the next hardest door in New York? Remember when the playful and invigorating ways of 70’s disco birthed the celebrity filled and over the top Studio 54, one of the most unequivocally exclusive clubs of all time? 

So as snooty and lavish clubs fade from the limelight and techno raves become the rage, what will be the next alternative choice of play? Will we see a resurgence of Headbangers? Two-toners? Jazz enthusiasts? A postmodern intersection of the three? Only time will tell, but one thing is for certain, the underground techno scene has reached sea level.