The True Cost of Attending Fashion School
Fashion and design schools are notorious for having a hefty price tag. Tuition alone can range from four to six figures, depending on the program. And, since many are located in big cities, you also have to plan on a metropolitan budget that may include steep rent, $18 salads and exorbitant Uber fares.
But, as a former fashion student, the line item that surprised me the most was the cost of materials, which wasn't something I thought of while saving up money from my summer job at McDonald's. (To be fair, I mistakenly spent much of that McDonald's money on "dressing the part" of a fashion design student, under the impression that "Gossip Girl"-esque personal style was part of the curriculum.) When you factor in textbooks, fabric, sketch pads, a sewing kit and everything else required to become a designer, those savings had a hard time footing the bill.
It's hard to put an exact figure on what to expect to pay for these materials across the board. Amy Sperber, professor at the Fashion Insitute of Technology (FIT) explains that it "depends heavily on the program and specific projects required by their courses."
"Many materials carry over each semester as our programs build with each semester," she says. "Many students face challenges in obtaining project materials due to financial constraints, scarcity of specific items or the high cost of quality supplies." She also points out that in New York City, students face rising costs with "local supply chain issues from the garment district with price gouging on basic materials like muslin."
According to Jeff Karly, a professor at Parsons School of Design, there can be unexpected expenses, "such as compensating others for a specific job or project… if you're outsourcing." The New School Free Press, a student-run newspaper, covered this very issue in an article in 2019. As former student Jihan Basyah explains, "students are free to hire professionals not only to sew minor details such as pockets and zippers, but also create their full garments based off of the designs the students create, as long as it's approved by their professors."
As for additional expenses, Karly notes: "If there's a material that you like but isn't carried [at your local fabric store], shipping the fabric costs extra. Printing a portfolio book costs money. Photoshoots, even if you get your homies to help, might require booking the space, renting the camera, etc. Most current and standard design software is provided by universities, but there may be a specific CAD or AI program that you want to use, which comes with an additional cost."
This can have a compounding effect on students who face financial difficulties. Many will try to balance a job or internship (or both) with a full course load to help offset these costs, but that can in turn take time away from working on school projects. Students who don't have to do this end up having more free time to dedicate to these endeavors outside of class — and, if finances aren't a concern, purchasing the highest quality materials or even outsourcing projects can give the impression that they're better situated for success in their courses.
"It certainly puts students who come from less privileged backgrounds at a disadvantage," says Lauren Downing Peters, assistant professor of Fashion Studies at Columbia College Chicago. "Students who can't afford a lot of yardage, for instance, may consciously or unconsciously develop less complicated or elaborate pieces. Likewise, they may use lesser or inappropriate materials."
While the quality of materials shouldn't affect a student's overall performance in their program, many faculty agree that the difference in what they're able to afford can affect their experience in the classroom. "[A student's work] may be well-sewn and constructed, but visually they pale in comparison to the more elaborate pieces created by their peers," Peters says. "We absolutely do not grade students based on how 'big' their pieces are (or on how much 'nice' fabric they use), but it's hard for the students to not compare themselves to one another. Psychologically, this culture of comparison, and always feeling 'less than' their peers, can be difficult."
On top of that, "There can be unconscious bias from faculty who might perceive students with higher-quality materials as more dedicated or talented," Karly adds.
Still, some young creatives take challenge as an opportunity to get creative. Peters shares how, one semester, "I had a student use both her jersey bedsheets and her bed quilt for final projects because she couldn't afford new materials." Karly, meanwhile, argues that this can help develop their creative problem-solving skills: "Resourcefulness and creativity in using available materials can also lead to success. Working with limitations can showcase a student's ability to innovate despite the confines."
For students with financial limitations, many schools do offer additional resources to help level the playing field, such as open sewing labs, access to donated materials through partnerships with brands, as well as grants and scholarships. However, they're not universally accessible, and most are contingent on availability or location. (New York City, for instance, has a creative reuse center called Materials for the Arts — but not all cities do.) Some faculty might provide fabric to their class, and students might pass down materials like sewing kits or textbooks.
But access to these resources is inconsistent, highlighting the inequalities in higher education, particularly within fashion schools. It begs the question: How should stakeholders at these institutions better provide for and address students’ financial needs? Peters suggests that self-advocacy could be key.
"If enough students ask for assistance (or disclose that the financial burden is unmanageable), cumulatively, it will illustrate to those in power that there is something systemically wrong and that a bigger, less ad hoc, solution needs to be devised," she says.
