The Abloh Legacy: The Codes Review – Archive Display Solidifies Status as This Era's Foremost Fashion Mind

Before his passing in 2021 at the age of 41, Virgil Abloh was regularly called as the most influential fashion designer of his generation. Not quite the most skilled—not by a long shot. Even during his tenure at Louis Vuitton, where he broke barriers as the first Black man to oversee the house's men's collection in 2018, he leaned toward printing on T-shirts over tailoring. But as a mainstream-savvy polymath who tackled fashion with a teenager's enthusiasm, his democratic interpretation of streetwear aimed to open up the exclusive world of fashion to aspiring creatives like him who had traditionally excluded, whether he was leaving his mark on Ikea rugs or designer accessories.

The scale of his legacy on design can't quantified in tangible goods, but Abloh's archive show, the premier display focused exclusively to the late fashion designer's massive 20,000-item archive, reveals that he was as much a avid gatherer of items—the so-called codes—as he was a designer of them.

Organized by Abloh's partners Chloe and Mahfuz Sultan along with his surviving spouse, Shannon, this two-level exhibition uses his possessions to document his evolution from the offspring of Ghanaian immigrants in Illinois to creative, visual artist, DJ, and eventually one of the leading designers in the world.

The setup evokes a garage sale. Heaps of neatly arranged Off-White T-shirts and sneaker partnerships share space with paintbrushes, tailoring tools, and teenage laptops. A pair of Nike Air Jordan 1s have been turned inside out, while one of his leather handbags imprinted with the word “sculpture” (inverted commas were one of his design hallmarks) is placed solitarily on a stand.

The more immersive exhibits include his studio at Louis Vuitton (he notoriously referred to his phone as his desk) and a life-sized DJ booth; proof of his broad influence, maturing in Illinois in the 2000s, his DJ name back then was Flat White.

The guidance is limited, and while some of the more gnomic pieces—various USB sticks and mixtapes in glass vitrines—will only resonate to his loyal audience, it is a fascinating glimpse into the creative psyche of a digital native developing in a consumer society before TikTok.

At times it can feel excessive, but the systematic layout is also how Abloh operated. He would capture his discussions with journalists on audio files which he retained in order to revisit and pore over as his work progressed. The tapes are likely among the remaining objects still in reserve which—considering the reception and lines outside—will probably be exhibited in upcoming shows.

Abloh's stint at Louis Vuitton was highly acclaimed but it was his partnerships with international labels which went beyond the attraction of his garment-making, handling each item—a luxury luggage, a sneaker, the aforementioned Evian bottles—as if he was sampling a song. This originated from his “3% theory”—the idea that you could create a fresh concept by changing an original by just 3%.

Opening for just 10 days during PFW at the prestigious venue—scarcity hype was a very Ablohian strategy—the organized crowds outside on its opening day suggest it wasn't simply the biggest attraction in town, but that it was absurd to think that Abloh's legacy would simply fade from the design world after his death.