Studio notes
Studio Notes is where cultural commentary meets creative direction.
Here you’ll find my reflections on fashion, identity, and the stories brands tell — through visuals, strategy, and the emotions they leave behind. It’s part journal, part lens on the world — always rooted in thoughtful storytelling and a cinematic perspective.
Topshop's comeback
Once the epitome of cool Britannia, a slice of London style for the masses, Topshop (and Topman) fell into the abyss after parent company Arcadia's collapse in 2020. While ASOS has kept the brand on life support, it's relaunching to the world with a familiar face at its centre. But can it reclaim its cultural relevance with a new generation?
Rebirth or a nostalgia loop?
Once the epitome of cool Britannia, a slice of London style for the masses, Topshop (and Topman) fell into the abyss after parent company Arcadia's collapse in 2020. While ASOS has kept the brand on life support, it's relaunching to the world with a familiar face at its centre. But can it reclaim its cultural relevance with a new generation?
Cara Delevingne, an old muse for a new market.
Image via Topshop / ASOS. Used here for editorial commentary only. All rights reserved to the original copyright holder.
It's 2007. Indie legends adorn my walls. I finish straightening my fringe, and I throw on my leather biker jacket. Today's mission is the same as every other Saturday: catching the bus into town to my local Topman.
Do I go for a Kate Moss print tee or the classic two-for-ten deal? Both, naturally. Okay, next upstairs to Topshop, my mate's after skinny jeans, but they haven't quite become mainstream for guys outside the bands we worship.
Topshop was more than a store to me in my teens - it was a ritual. It was the first place where I felt at home, an outlet to express myself. For a teenager who grew up in a small northern Scottish city, it was freedom.
Two decades later, the store is long gone. But the brand? It's making a comeback.
The brand's reign wasn't just about clothes; it was about cultural clout. From Kate Moss collaborations to headline-making flagships, and later to Cara Delevingne's it-girl era, it embodied a particular kind of British cool. But when Arcadia crumbled in 2020, so did its high street empire. ASOS picked up the pieces in a £330 million deal, acquiring the brand, but not the stores, the staff, or the soul.
Now, in a full-circle twist, Cara is back as the face of the relaunch, an old muse for a new market.
Topshop has unveiled its new chapter in a very public way: a high-profile takeover in Trafalgar Square, complete with a digital-first media blitz, catwalk and Cara front and centre once again.
The message? Topshop is back.
But beyond the billboard, what does that mean?
In many ways, it feels right on time. The wider cultural mood is deep in a '90s/2000s revival; slip dresses, bucket hats, and Britpop nostalgia are dominating everything from TikTok styling videos to runway reinterpretations. The return of Topshop fits neatly into that aesthetic loop. But a brand relaunch isn't just about timing, it's about relevance.
Topshop isn't the only brand leaning on legacy to find its footing. GAP, once a global retail powerhouse, recently handed the creative reins to couture designer Zac Posen, betting that elevated design and cohesive storytelling could cash in on brand memory and win over a new generation. The parallels are clear: nostalgia is the hook, but identity is the currency.
Recasting Cara Delevingne is a safe choice, but is it bold? Sadly, no. It reestablishes the brand as it was, but it doesn't offer anything new. They've learned the hard way what it costs to miss the digital party, but what do they have to say?
It feels like they're quietly rejoining the party, rather than being the focal point. As a millennial, as I browse the new website, I get an instant nostalgia rush; these are the clothes I want to wear, where have they been for the last 10 years? But for a new audience, I'm struggling to see how they can build the same emotional connection.
I can understand the need for a safe launch to appease the company's financial backers, and reconnecting with old customers is a strong starting point, although those same customers now long for more environmentally friendly alternatives to fast-fashion.
Unless the search for bold new voices capitalises on the resurgence of indie-sleaze and establishes the new London cool, it feels like this will be just another brand in a sea of sameness and mediocrity, not the cultural force it once was.
Gen Z craves experiences.
A bold pop-up calendar could bring the brand back to life, physically, not just digitally. Let them experience the brand with all five senses, up close, personal, and theirs to claim.
Maybe Topshop is still not just about the clothes. But is it nostalgia or a new cultural moment for teens and twenty-somethings? Let's hope it's the latter so we see an iconic British brand back on the high street.
For the brand to matter again, it needs to offer more than memory; it needs to offer meaning.
Is London calling? If it is, save me a spot on Oxford Street.