There is a photo of Kanye West that I recently came across. He is wearing a grey knit sweater with holes torn through the chest and shoulders. The sleeves are frayed, and the hem is unraveling. If you saw this sweater on a rack at a thrift store, you would assume it had been chewed by moths and left in a damp basement for a decade.
But on Kanye, it is considered fashionable.
This is not a fluke nor an accident. It is, however, a psychological phenomenon called the halo effect, and it governs almost everything about how we perceive style, status, and taste
What the Halo Effect Actually Is
The halo effect was first identified by psychologist Edward Thorndike in 1920. He noticed that when military officers rated their soldiers, the ratings across completely unrelated traits—intelligence, physique, leadership, character—were suspiciously correlated. If a soldier was rated highly for one positive quality, they tended to be rated highly for all of them. Thorndike called it a “halo effect” because one positive impression cast a glow over everything else.
In simpler terms: we judge specific traits based on our overall impression of the person. If we think someone is successful, famous, or talented, we unconsciously assume everything they do is intentional. Even their mistakes.
In fashion, this is the entire game. Research published in the British Journal of Psychology confirms what the industry has always known: a model’s facial attractiveness significantly influences how we rate the clothes they are wearing. This “model effect” is robust and emerges even when participants are explicitly instructed to focus only on the clothing
A frayed sweater on a random person is a sign of poverty, neglect, or a rough night. The same sweater on Kanye West is a commentary on consumerism, a statement about impermanence, a bold sartorial choice. The clothes have not changed. Only the wearer has.
The Evidence Is Everywhere
This is not just a Kanye phenomenon. The halo effect explains dozens of fashion trends that would otherwise make no sense.
Take, for example, the distressed denim. A pair of jeans with holes in the knees and thighs can cost $50 at a thrift store or $1,000 at a luxury boutique. The difference is not the fabric but the label it sports. Balenciaga, Gucci, and Saint Laurent have all sold intentionally “destroyed” clothing at premium prices, and the halo effect is why it works. Research on luxury brands confirms that high-status labels enjoy more latitude to deviate from expectations—including selling clothes that look worn and torn—because consumers extend their positive perception of the brand to its products.
Another case study is: “Homeless chic.” In 2015, Vivienne Westwood sent models down the runway in clothes that looked like they had been salvaged from a dumpster. Critics called it “genius.” The same aesthetic on an actual unhoused person would be seen as tragic, not stylish.
Again, let’s consider celebrity airport style. When Rihanna wears oversized sweatpants and a tank top to the airport, it is “effortless” and “relatable.” When a regular person does it, it is just “underdressed.”
The pattern is consistent. The halo effect allows famous people to bypass the rules that apply to everyone else. The New York Times even used the term in 2022 when reporting on Kanye West’s corporate partnerships. They noted that “the former halo effect of his celebrity turned into an Achilles’ heel” after his offensive behavior—a reminder that the halo is not permanent and can be revoked
Why We Do This
The halo effect is not just about fashion. It is a cognitive shortcut. Our brains are constantly processing information, and we use mental shortcuts to make sense of the world faster. One of those shortcuts is assuming that if someone excels in one area, they probably excel in others.
If Kanye West is a genius musician, he must also be a genius fashion designer. If he is a genius fashion designer, then his torn sweater is not a mistake—it is a deliberate artistic choice. If you or I wore the same sweater, we would just be someone who cannot afford new clothes.
This is also tied to something called status bias. Research shows that people tend to evaluate the work of high-status individuals more favorably than the work of low-status individuals, even when the work is identical. In one famous study, participants were asked to rate the same painting. When told it was by a famous artist, they rated it higher. When told it was by an unknown artist, they rated it lower.
The Darker Side of the Halo Effect
The halo effect is not just a quirky psychological phenomenon. It has real consequences. It means that the same people who are celebrated for breaking fashion rules are often the only ones allowed to break them. It means that designers from marginalized communities who create the same aesthetics are often dismissed as “ghetto” or “unkempt” while their wealthier, more famous counterparts are praised as “avant-garde.”
It also means that we are not judging clothes on their own merit. We are judging them based on who is wearing them. And that is a problem, because it means that fashion is not really about the clothes at all but about power.
The Daily Mail reported on a TikToker who noticed that simply changing his work clothes from gymwear to tailored trousers and loafers completely changed how his colleagues treated him. “People started to say ‘Hello’ when they’d never said ‘Hello’ before,” he said. “I started to get asked for my input in meetings when I’d never been asked before”.
Conclusion
The next time you see a celebrity wearing something that looks like it came from a trash bin, ask yourself: would I think this was cool if I saw it on someone else? Would I think it was cool if I saw it on myself?
The answer is probably no. And that is the halo effect in action.
The clothes are not different. The person is. And that is the uncomfortable truth at the heart of fashion’s obsession with the rich and famous.
