Vogue, Doja Cat, and the Death of Editorial Fantasy
As magazines lean harder into sterile studio shoots, even a figure as visually fearless as Doja Cat can’t completely save the formula.
Vogue’s April issue is here, starring one of – in my opinion – the most stylish, theatrical figures in culture right now: Doja Cat.
Photographed by Willy Vanderperre and styled by Carlos Nazario, the story features Doja Cat in front of an off-white studio wall, draped in brands ranging from Tom Ford to Ralph Lauren to Givenchy by Sarah Burton. It’s no surprise the wardrobe is oozing with 80s energy: padded shoulders, popped collars, baggy pants, glossy fabrics. Both Doja Cat’s latest album, Vie, and her tour looks lean heavily into that same influence – referencing the likes of Grace Jones, David Bowie, and the Blitz Kids of London.
This year, Doja Cat has been everywhere in zebra print, latex, polka dots, theatrical hair and makeup, and damn near every color of the rainbow. Yet here, we find her in a Saint Laurent by Anthony Vaccarello suit in oxblood, navy, mustard. Is the ensemble fabulous? Yes. I’d wear it in a heartbeat. But this is Vogue. This is Doja Cat. And as camp as she is, this is what was decided on? Boring.
Some of the other looks in the spread save it for me, to some extent.
The Tom Ford suit and bralette, paired with a Bvlgari High Jewelry necklace and Tiffany & Co. earrings, stole the show for me. It’s chic, it’s sexy, and fresh. But even then, the outfit isn’t what’s doing all the work. The pixie, razor-cut hairstyle is killer, bringing that androgynous, punk energy so central to Doja Cat’s image. And it’s her presence – the stance, the coolness in her eyes, the smoke leaving her mouth – that pulls you in. Not the clothes. Not the setting. Her.
Another highlight was the Saint Laurent jacket, top, and skirt with Sidney Garber earrings. The leather, the fishnets, the hat, the hoops, the eyeliner: I see what they were going for. I respect it. I like it. The 80s punk energy is there. And I adore the contrast between the hard-hitting look and the joy in her expression. But again, I’m not blown away by the clothing. It’s hot, sure. I’d love to see her wear it to something like a Vanity Fair afterparty. But a feature in Vogue? I want more.
I feel similarly about the Ralph Lauren Collection dress, Paris Texas shoes, Briony Raymond necklace, and David Webb and Ana Khouri rings. I have little to no complaints about the look – especially paired with the blonde pixie, sharp eyeliner, and aloof gaze. It’s beautiful. But I’d love it significantly more if it existed somewhere beyond a studio wall.
And that’s where another issue lies.
Vogue has had a bit of an obsession with the studio lately, with four covers already in that setting since the start of 2025: Doja Cat, Emma Stone, Sabrina Carpenter, and Angel Reese. Before that, we saw six throughout 2024.
And it’s not just Vogue. Publications like Interview Magazine, ELLE, and Harper’s Bazaar have all been leaning heavily into the same formula. Which makes me wonder, why?
When done sparingly, a studio can feel clean, controlled, even iconic. But now, it’s starting to feel repetitive. Predictable. It strips away the fantasy and world-building that make editorial so exciting in the first place. Fashion thrives on storytelling. And by reducing everything to a neutral background, these images lose the individuality that should define both the subject and the publication.
Because if there’s anyone right now who deserves a fully realized fashion fantasy, it’s Doja Cat.
She’s theatrical. She’s unpredictable. She is the moment. And while she still manages to command every frame – making even the simplest setup feel compelling – you can’t help but feel like something is missing.
Not from her. From the world around her.
And that’s the problem: when the most imaginative figure in the room is the only thing carrying the image, it stops feeling like Vogue and starts feeling like a missed opportunity.