Walk into any vintage shop in Brooklyn or London right now. You’ll see it immediately. The high-waisted trousers, the oversized collars, and that specific shade of mustard yellow that shouldn't work but somehow does. We call it "retro," but honestly, most of what we’re looking at is a direct hand-me-down from the Black community’s aesthetic dominance half a century ago.
It wasn't just about clothes.
When people talk about 70s fashion black people were pioneering at the time, they often get stuck on the surface level. They think of Soul Train lines and disco balls. But if you really dig into the archives, you realize the 1970s represented a massive, tectonic shift in how Black identity was performed through fabric. It was the era where "Black is Beautiful" stopped being a slogan and became a wardrobe. We moved from the buttoned-up, Sunday-best pressure of the Civil Rights era into something much more experimental, loud, and frankly, revolutionary.
The Death of Respectability Politics in the Closet
Before the 70s, there was this unspoken rule. If you were Black and in the public eye, you had to look twice as sharp and three times as "proper" as everyone else just to be heard. Think of the 1960s—the sharp suits of the SNCC, the pearls, the pressed hair.
Then the 70s hit.
Everything changed because the goals changed. The Black Panthers brought the leather jacket into the political sphere, making it a symbol of resistance rather than just "greaser" rebellion. It was utilitarian. It was tough. It was uniform-adjacent but undeniably cool. This was the first time we saw a mass movement of Black people rejecting Western beauty standards in favor of their own.
The Afro wasn't just a hairstyle; it was the ultimate accessory that dictated the silhouette of the clothes. You couldn't wear a tiny, narrow 50s suit with a crown of natural hair. You needed volume. You needed shoulder width. You needed the flare of the bell-bottom to balance out the height of the hair. This was architecture, not just dressing up.
The Street vs. The Studio
You had two main vibes happening simultaneously. On one hand, you had the "Pimp Style" or "Street Peacock" look—think Max Julien in The Mack. We're talking fur collars, wide-brimmed hats, and platforms that added three inches of height. It was flashy. It was a statement of "I have made it in a system designed to keep me down."
💡 You might also like: Easy recipes dinner for two: Why you are probably overcomplicating date night
On the other hand, you had the rise of Pan-Africanism.
Dashikis became a staple. People were sourcing fabrics from West Africa, wearing Kente cloth, and opting for earth tones—browns, oranges, and deep greens. It was a visual reclamation of roots. It’s wild to think that in the same decade, you could see a man in a floor-length mink coat standing next to a woman in a handmade Ankara print wrap dress. Both were equally "Black 70s," yet they represented totally different philosophies of survival and success.
Designers Who Actually Built the Look
Most people can name Yves Saint Laurent or Halston. But how many can name Stephen Burrows?
If you want to understand 70s fashion black people wore to the highest levels of society, you have to look at Burrows. He was the first Black designer to become an international superstar. He invented the "lettuce hem"—that wavy, curly edge you see on jersey knits. His clothes were made for dancing. They were bright, they were stretchy, and they moved with the body.
He was one of the "Battle of Versailles" designers in 1973. If you aren't familiar, this was a legendary fashion show where American designers went up against the French establishment. The Americans won, largely because their segment featured 11 Black models—including Pat Cleveland and Bethann Hardison—who didn't just walk; they performed. They brought a sense of movement and "soul" that the stiff French models couldn't touch.
The Influence of the Black Model
It’s impossible to talk about this era without mentioning Beverly Johnson. In 1974, she was the first Black woman on the cover of American Vogue. That changed the math for every clothing brand in America. Suddenly, the "Black look" was the "American look."
Brands realized that Black skin made certain colors—electric blue, marigold, crisp white—pop in a way that white models simply couldn't replicate. This led to a boom in "Disco Glamour." We’re talking sequins, wrap dresses (popularized by Diane von Furstenberg but worn religiously by Black icons like Diana Ross), and metallic fabrics that caught the light under a strobe.
📖 Related: How is gum made? The sticky truth about what you are actually chewing
Why the Silhouette Matters More Than the Pattern
If you’re trying to recreate this look or understand its DNA, don't just look at the prints. Look at the lines. The 70s was a decade of "The Flare."
- The Bottoms: It wasn't just a slight wideness at the ankle. These were bell-bottoms that started flaring from the knee, sometimes featuring "godets" (extra triangles of fabric) to make them even wider.
- The Tops: Collars were huge. We're talking "butterfly" collars that reached halfway to the shoulder.
- The Shoes: Platforms. For everyone. Men wore heels in the 70s, and they did it with a level of swagger that we haven't quite seen since.
There was a fluidity to the gender roles in fashion back then. You’d see the Isley Brothers or Teddy Pendergrass in silk shirts unbuttoned to the navel, high-waisted trousers, and jewelry. It was masculine, but it was also decorative. There was no fear of being "too much."
The Impact of Cinema: Blaxploitation and Beyond
We have to talk about movies. Shaft, Foxy Brown, Super Fly.
These films were often low-budget, but the costume design was high-art. Pam Grier became the blueprint for the "tough but glamorous" woman. She wore high-waisted denim, leather vests, and boots that meant business. She showed that Black women didn't have to choose between being feminine and being formidable.
Meanwhile, Ron O'Neal's wardrobe in Super Fly—designed by Nate Adams—was so influential that it actually changed how people in Harlem and Chicago dressed in real life. Those long, lean coats and monochromatic suits? That was a specific type of urban aspirational dressing. It was about taking up space.
What Most People Get Wrong
The biggest misconception is that 1970s Black fashion was a monolith. It wasn't.
There was a massive class divide in the clothes. You had the burgeoning Black middle class who were leaning into the "Preppy" look—think early Cosby Show vibes but 15 years earlier. They wore turtlenecks under blazers, plaid skirts, and loafers. They were trying to blend into the corporate world that was slowly, grudgingly opening its doors.
👉 See also: Curtain Bangs on Fine Hair: Why Yours Probably Look Flat and How to Fix It
Then you had the "Funk" aesthetic. Parliament-Funkadelic. Bootsy Collins. This was the avant-garde. This was sci-fi. Silver space suits, star-shaped glasses, and capes. This branch of 70s fashion black people created essentially birthed Afrofuturism. It was the idea that Black people didn't just have a past in Africa; they had a future in the stars.
The DIY Element
Another thing? Not everyone was buying designer.
The 70s was a huge era for home sewing. Many of those iconic maxi dresses or perfectly fitted flares were made at home using McCall’s or Simplicity patterns. Black families, often excluded from high-end department stores or unable to afford them, became masters of tailoring. They would buy cheap fabric and turn it into something that looked like it came off a runway in Milan. That "perfect fit" is a hallmark of the era.
How to Apply These Lessons Today
If you’re looking to bring this energy into 2026, don’t do a costume. Nobody wants to look like they’re headed to a 70s-themed office party.
Instead, focus on the "Black 70s" philosophy: Tailoring and Texture. 1. Find the "Hero" Piece: Instead of wearing a full disco suit, take one element. Maybe it's a wide-collar leather jacket or a pair of corduroy flares.
2. Focus on the Fit: The 70s look fails if it’s baggy in the wrong places. It should be tight through the torso and thighs, then "explode" at the bottom.
3. Earth Tones are Your Friend: Don't be afraid of brown. Deep chocolate, rust, and clay are the foundation of the 70s palette. They look incredible on dark skin tones and feel more sophisticated than neon.
4. Accessorize with Intent: A single gold chain or a pair of aviator glasses can do more heavy lifting than five different patterns.
The reality is that 70s fashion black people pioneered wasn't just a trend. It was a declaration of existence. Every time you see a high-waisted pant or a bold natural hairstyle on a modern runway, you’re seeing the ghost of 1975.
To really dive deeper into this, check out the photography of Kwame Brathwaite. He was the man behind the "Black is Beautiful" movement and his photos from the 70s are the gold standard for authentic style. Also, look up the archives of Ebony and Jet magazine from 1972 to 1978. They didn't just report on the fashion; they dictated it.
The 70s didn't end in 1979. It just moved into the DNA of everything we’ve worn since. If you want to dress well today, you have to understand the people who decided, fifty years ago, that they were no longer going to hide.