In the shimmering halls of fashion, a profound silence has fallen where once there was vibrant, often cacophonous, debate. The critical voice, once a pillar of the industry, has been steadily muffled, replaced by a pervasive culture of praise. This shift is not merely a change in tone; it represents a fundamental transformation in how fashion is consumed, understood, and valued. The traditional fashion critic, armed with a sharp pen and a discerning eye, has been largely dethroned, their authority ceded to influencers, brand ambassadors, and an algorithmically-driven celebration of the new. To ask what criticism can be in an age of acclaim is to question the very soul of fashion's discourse.

The golden age of fashion criticism, arguably spanning from the mid-20th century to the early 2000s, was built on the formidable foundations laid by writers like Kennedy Fraser at The New Yorker and later, the acerbic, brilliant prose of Cathy Horyn at The New York Times. Their reviews were events in themselves, capable of making or breaking a collection. They engaged with fashion not as a mere commercial product, but as a complex cultural text, interrogating its relationship to society, politics, and art. The critique was an essential dialogue, a necessary friction that pushed designers to refine their vision and held the industry to a higher standard. It was an act of respect, treating the creation with the seriousness it deserved.

This ecosystem began to crumble under the weight of several converging forces. The most obvious is the digital revolution. The internet demolished the gatekeepers. Where once a handful of glossy magazines and newspapers held a monopoly on distribution, now anyone with a smartphone and an Instagram account can become a commentator. This democratization, while empowering in many ways, privileged immediacy and accessibility over depth and expertise. The currency of the new landscape became access and affiliation, not independent judgment. To secure front-row seats, exclusive interviews, and lucrative advertising deals, publications and individuals became partners with brands, not critics of them. The unspoken rule became clear: bite the hand that feeds you, and you will go hungry.

Concurrently, the very business model of media changed. Print advertising revenue evaporated, forcing magazines and newspapers to rely on click-driven metrics. A scathing, thoughtful 1500-word critique generates far less traffic than a slideshow of the "10 Best Dressed" at a film premiere or a celebrity’s sponsored post. The algorithm, the new and merciless editor, rewards positivity, shareability, and commercial appeal. It is engineered to show users what they already like, creating a feedback loop of affirmation rather than challenge. In this environment, criticism is not just unprofitable; it is a direct impediment to growth and engagement.

Furthermore, the rise of influencer culture has fundamentally altered the power dynamics. The critic derived authority from their expertise, their knowledge of history, technique, and context. The influencer derives authority from their audience size and engagement rates. Their value to a brand is transactional: they deliver a measurable return on investment. Their content is, by its very nature, promotional. This has created a suffocating blanket of positivity where every collection is "amazing," every designer is a "genius," and every product is a "must-have." The language of critique has been replaced by the lexicon of marketing.

So, what is the role of criticism in this age of relentless praise? It is more vital and more difficult than ever. Its purpose is no longer to serve as a consumer guide—a function now amply filled by a thousand affiliate links. Instead, its value lies in its ability to provide context, to create meaning, and to insist on a deeper engagement. In a world saturated with images, the critic must become a curator of significance, separating the trivial from the transformative. They must connect the dots between a hemline and a political movement, between a choice of fabric and an environmental crisis, between a runway show and a shifting cultural identity.

This new criticism must be constructive, not merely destructive. The goal is not to tear down for the sake of it, but to build up the intellectual and aesthetic rigor of the conversation. It can do this by championing under-the-radar talent who are experimenting with new forms and practices, by holding large conglomerates accountable for their ethical and environmental footprints, and by challenging the industry's deep-seated problems with diversity and inclusion. This is a criticism that looks beyond the seasonal cycle of collections to the larger systems at play.

It also requires a new form of courage. To publish a negative review today is to invite not just the ire of a powerful brand, but the fury of its devoted fanbase online. The critic must be prepared to stand their ground, not from a place of arrogance, but from a place of conviction and carefully supported argument. They must be transparent about their biases and frameworks, building trust with an audience that is increasingly skeptical of all media. The authority of the future critic will be earned through consistency, integrity, and depth of insight, not merely by the masthead they write for.

Ultimately, fashion criticism in the age of praise is an act of resistance. It resists the homogenization of thought, the flattening of culture into mere content, and the reduction of fashion to a simple commodity. It insists that fashion is worthy of serious thought and debate. It is a commitment to the idea that fashion, at its best, is a mirror and a catalyst for our times, and that such a powerful force deserves more than a simple round of applause. It deserves to be seen, to be questioned, and to be understood.