Social Climbers Crash Australian Fashion Week!

was once the glittering domain of fashion editors, luxury designers, celebrities and industry royalty.

But in 2026, the real spectacle is happening outside the gates.

Everywhere you look, it's aspiring influencers draped in rented designer gowns and reality stars armed with borrowed handbags and 'content teams'.

The Daily Mail can reveal that a growing army of social climbers are spending thousands on hair, makeup, outfits and chauffeurs - all for the chance to be photographed outside 's Museum of Contemporary Art, often without ever securing a coveted runway invitation.

For many, simply being seen at Fashion Week has become more important than actually attending it.

The once-exclusive event has transformed into a commercialised content mill, where viral TikToks, Instagram Reels and shamelessly staged paparazzi snaps now hold just as much currency as front-row seats. 

Even controversial Married At First Sight groom Paul Antoine appeared determined to rewrite his public image this week.

He stepped out in front of a Shark Beauty activation wall wearing a (gifted) double-breasted beige suit after spending $2,000 of his own money from his day job to fund his flights and accommodation.

His polished appearance marked a stark contrast to his tumultuous TV portrayal, with insiders noting Fashion Week has increasingly become a rebranding exercise for reality stars seeking to repair their public image.

Yet not everyone skulking outside the runway shows is a C-list celebrity wearing rented couture and looking for a headline.

Among the crowds are aspiring models like Joseph Slager, who pieced together his impressive Fashion Week look for just $100 using thrifted finds and vintage bargains.

'Today, I'm wearing pretty much all thrifted,' he cheerfully told the Daily Mail. 'This jacket is vintage Veducci. I got it on Depop for $35, which was an absolute steal.

'It's a budget 'fit, but hey, sometimes budget works, right?'

For Joseph, who is new to modelling and wasn't booked for the runway, simply attending was an opportunity to network, gain visibility and immerse himself in the industry.

'Unfortunately, I didn't get booked for any runways,' he admitted.

'But I'm here to see some cool fashion and some of the up-and-coming designers.'

His presence reflects the new Fashion Week hierarchy - one where aspiring talent and content creators increasingly gather outside the official shows, hoping to turn heads even without an invite.

Veteran celebrity photographer Richard Milnes, who has covered Fashion Week for more than a decade, says the shift has been impossible to ignore.

'It's okay, but to be honest, I preferred Carriageworks,' he said.

'Carriageworks was a bigger space, the backgrounds were better, the brickwork was better, and it just had more of a vibe.

'People hung around the front, it felt edgier. Here, it's a bit more touristy. It feels more mainstream. It's missing something.'

Milnes said the influx of influencers and public spectacle has fundamentally changed the event's atmosphere.

'There haven't really been A-listers for about five years,' he explained. 'There are a few minor celebrities, but no one too amazing.

'It's definitely become harder and harder.'

For photographers like Milnes, whose livelihood relies on genuine celebrity sightings, the changing face of Fashion Week has diluted both exclusivity and opportunity.

Meanwhile, stylists like Donny Galella have witnessed the transformation firsthand over his 15 years attending the event.

'When I first started coming, it was pre-social media,' Galella said.

'The front row was filled with fashion journalists and industry insiders.

'Now it's full of influencers and people who love fashion. Social media has completely changed how fashion is filtered out to the world.'

While Galella acknowledges the benefits of greater accessibility, he concedes the event has undeniably evolved.

'This is kind of a full-circle moment being back here, because this is where Fashion Week originally began,' he said of the new harbourfront venue.

'But it's definitely very different.'

And that difference is often measured in dollars.

Industry insiders estimate that aspiring attendees spend anywhere from $500 to $5,000 per day on designer outfit rentals, professional glam squads, chauffeurs and styling teams - all to create the illusion of belonging inside exclusive fashion circles.

Influencer Laura Albertin, who boasts 163,000 Instagram followers and has attended Fashion Week for more than a decade, acknowledged the event's dramatic evolution.

'I do think there needs to be more focus on the designers, because that's why we're here,' she said.

'But the more eyeballs on it, the better it is for designers.

'I guess influencers have taken over.'

Albertin also noted a broader cultural shift.

'I feel like there's a lot of media missing,' she said. 'There should be more media.'

Socialite and influencer Suzan Mutesi, who has 1.2 million Instagram followers, was among those spending hours outside posing for photos, conducting interviews and navigating guest list uncertainty.

Insiders say Mutesi often relies on last-minute invitations, no-show opportunities or ticket transfers in hopes of gaining entry.

For fashion personalities like Isaias Vego, who has built an audience through bold, over-the-top style, Fashion Week has become increasingly exclusive.

'It's been very frustrating,' he said of securing access. 'But I had to plan because I didn't want to look normal.'

Still, he remains committed to the performance. 'I make my own trends,' he declared.

Some arrive in full runway-ready looks only to spend the day outside activation walls, media backdrops and street-style hotspots.

As one longtime attendee bluntly described it: 'People are basically paying to cosplay celebrity.'

Still, not everyone believes influencers are ruining Fashion Week.

Adrian Dieguez, founder of creator agency DreamCore, argues that the new blood of influencers is simply reshaping it.

'Content creators attending Fashion Week are not diluting the essence of fashion - rather, they are amplifying it,' he said.

'In an era where digital presence defines engagement, creators bring fashion to global audiences that might never sit front-row.

'They translate the artistry of designers into relatable stories, making fashion democratic.

'The economy is shifting: people invest in creators they trust. This shift doesn't diminish Fashion Week's purpose - it amplifies its reach.'

His perspective reflects Fashion Week's move from being an industry event to a place for designers and creators to assert influence.

Laura Albertin, an influencer who has attended for over a decade, acknowledged the evolution.

'I do think there needs to be more focus on the designers, because that's why we're here,' she said. 'But the more eyeballs on it, the better it is for designers.

'I guess influencers have taken over.'

For content creator Elise, the shift is simply a sign of the times.

'That's the way the landscape is moving. Fashion Week is naturally going to reflect that,' she explained.

Still, even supporters admit something has been lost.

'There's no hub anymore,' Elise added. 'Carriageworks had that.'

As rain poured across Sydney this week, stilettos sank into wet pavement, faux fur coats were drenched, and publicists scrambled to salvage photo opportunities.

But despite the chaos, hundreds continued to gather. And for those seeking the spotlight, the illusion of fame and exclusivity can be just as valuable as the real thing.

Whether it's a thrifted $100 look or a $5,000 designer ensemble, the objective remains the same: visibility.