High fashion is becoming an increasingly commercialised industry. In a landscape now governed by luxury conglomerates, truly audacious fashion has taken a back seat for many designers in order to fulfil the timely execution of up to five annual collections, alongside accessory and beauty lines. Being an industry that at its heart thrives on creativity, this heightened commercialisation can be detrimental.

On the tail of the Spring/Summer 2016 season, the fashion industry saw the effects of its demands come to fruition. Less than a month after it’s show in Paris, Dior announced the resignation of Raf Simons as it’s Creative Director and, six days later, Lanvin announced that Alber Elbaz was exiting after 14 prosperous years. The news follows Alexander Wang’s departure from Balenciaga, who presented his final collection for the house last month. Despite various contractual differences, the cases are all inextricably linked. The industry’s accelerated pace and commercial pressures have been silencing fashion’s loudest voices until they are driven to their limit, causing them to leave – by choice or by force.

In an official statement, Elbaz confirmed that he was ousted from the house on the decision made by majority stakeholder, suggesting irreconcilable creative differences. This doesn’t come as much of a surprise as just one week prior to the announcement, Elbaz publicly vocalised his disdain towards the industry at the Fashion Group International’s Night of the Stars; “we [designers] started as couturiers, with dreams, with intuition, with feeling … Then we became “creative directors,” so we have to create, but mostly direct. And now we have to become image-makers, creating a buzz, making sure that it looks good in the pictures.” His words resonate deeply. How are creatives expected to work at such a chaotic and commercialised speed without ultimately compromising their vision?

Perhaps this is why the announcement of Balenciaga’s new Creative Director, Demna Gvasalia, came as a shock to many. Gvasalia is the lead creative behind Vetements, a largely anonymous design collective based in Paris. The label is centred around the deconstruction of everyday classics, instilling a modern sensibility into staple pieces by reworking proportion, volume and silhouette. It’s collections have been presented in gritty and unorthodox locations around Paris, including a sex club and a Chinese restaurant, where they are modelled by friends of the team. Despite only entering into its fifth season, Vetements’ provocative and anarchic approach to fashion has undisputedly roused the industry.

Placing such an unknown and unconventional designer like Demna Gvasalia at the helm of one of the industry’s most storied and commercialised luxury brands, was certainly an unexpected move. Gvasalia is among a group of designers who continue to challenge our preconceived understanding of fashion through their liberated thinking. In light of this, it seems apt to reflect on some of the most progressive designers of the Spring/Summer 2016 season and celebrate their efforts to work creatively within the restrictive climate of the industry.

Finding a balance in the dissonance between concept and commerce is certainly no easy feat, which is why all eyes are on Shayne Oliver, the 27 year old founder and creative director of the New York based label, Hood By Air. Oliver is part of a new wave of designers that infuse principles of high fashion with street culture in order to create luxury brands that feel modern and sincere. By using his own personal history, cultural identity and politics as a reference point for the framework of each collection he has radically elevated streetwear as a genre.

Oliver dealt with a theme of uniformity this season, and, ultimately a rebellion from it. His usual band of street-cast, gender ambiguous models stomped down the runway, some appearing detained by their clothes; their hands cuffed by clutch bags and bounded by tightly wrapped leather dresses or HBA branded shoulder straps, while others were entirely unconstrained, wearing deconstructed uniform silhouettes such as backless jumpsuits held together by flimsy knots, white button up shirts with extreme cut outs or slits of denim spliced by zippers. The exaggerated Kardashian-inspired contouring was left unblended on each model’s face, aggressively reiterating Oliver’s poignant message: a revolt against homogeneous, at times oppressive, beauty standards as an ode to individual expression.

At times, abstract messages such as this can be overlooked. There’s an instantaneity in which we, consumers and spectators alike, now process fashion. The newly interdependent relationship between the industry and technology has rendered us susceptible to ingesting fashion too quickly, often desensitising us from the craft and process itself. Fashion can lose meaning as collections become cluttered by profitable handbags and hashtags. Months of research, designing and fabrication can be merely swiped away, completely unappreciated. This may not hugely impact brands like Saint Laurent or Moschino whose designs are easy to consume, but for some designers, a meditative approach is required in order to truly appreciate their work.

A first glance at any Commes des Garçons collection may necessitate questioning over whether or not Rei Kawakubo, the visionary behind the label, is completely out of touch with reality and modern dress particularly when considered amongst her contemporaries on the Paris Fashion Week schedule. Her tactile and sculptural creations may defy all notions of conventional wearability but they purposefully act as instruments to reflect the spirit of the times. Kawakubo’s approach to fashion is strictly on her own accord. Having full ownership over the label, she retains the ability to work at her own pace and with her full creative licence. This reveals itself in every collection.

The Spring/Summer 2016 collection was entitled, “Blue Witches”; “Powerful women who are misunderstood, but do good in the world,” explained Adrian Joffe, husband of Rei Kawakubo, backstage to Vogue.com. The sixteen assemblages made of faux fur, feathers and velvet distorted their models by elongating and widening them, often completely engrossing them. These morphing creations were accented by voluminous crimson wigs and almost comically pointed black shoes as the collection tonally evolved from black to blue. The meaning behind it all is as amorphous as the looks themselves, but here lies the beauty behind the frequently misunderstood complexity of Commes Des Garçons. There is an ineffable nature to Kawakubo’s designs and the same can be said of our response, as an audience, to them. Her ability to work within her own tradition creates fashion that is unique, evocative and utterly bewitching.

Admittedly, there’s only so much that can be determined through an image online or a blinking live stream. Being present at a show heightens the experience and understanding of the work itself. However, as the fashion calendar grows overpopulated, many designers have reconsidered this claim, for both the sake of conflicting time slots and consumer accessibility. This season, for instance, Tom Ford abandoned the traditional runway altogether and instead teamed up with Nick Knight and Lady Gaga to present his collection through a fashion film. While it proved to be a stimulating presentation, Rick Owens ultimately made a stronger case for the importance of a runway format by presenting one of the most powerful and emotional shows of the season. In choosing such a traditional setup, he was able to focus the distracted gaze of the industry on a moment that felt honest, raw and surprisingly, unconventional.

In a sombre underground space, Owens stunned his guests by punctuating his runway with women physically carrying other women, strapped on their back or hoisted on their front. It was a eulogy to inherent female strength, to sisterhood, and to the nurturing power of women. Beneath the politically charged theatrics of this collection, were clothes that were accessible and frankly, timeless. Sleeveless duster coats and black leather windbreakers were juxtaposed against delicate tunics and transformative organza dresses that twisted around the female form while being intersected by a flash of lacquer. This play between heavy and light fabrics, hard and soft silhouettes saw that his message was wholly embedded in the clothes themselves.

Owens’ collection acts as a complex prism in which one may read the political and social state of society while simultaneously presenting clothes that are innovative, meaningful and commercially viable. While the emotional intensity of Owens’ presentation may have been diluted to spectators online – particularly through hyperbolic headlines from scandalised tabloids – it remains to be one of the most important collections of the season. Why? Because the collection was intrinsically Rick Owens’ vision, untainted and uncompromised.

This season Rick Owens, Rei Kawakubo and Shayne Oliver reminded us of the fascinating power of conceptual fashion. Clothing that transcends its utilitarian purpose by expanding into the realm of art and fantasy leaves a far greater impact on society than a mere sales figure. It becomes an artistic expression about people and their bodies, experiences and feelings. One need only think of the late Alexander McQueen, whose conceptually complex work revolutionised fashion design for this very reason. But fashion of this nature is becoming implausible for contemporary designers who are of the first generation to operate in such a digitised and distrusting environment. As the industry tries to balance its need to remain profitable with its need for reinvention it has grown sceptical of its own creatives, leaving little encouragement for the exploration of conceptual or eccentric ideas.

At a time where the age-old tension between creativity and commerce grows ever more taut, it will be those that find a way to rise above this divide that will ultimately instigate the greatest change and revolutionise how we think about clothing once again.