Cybersigilism: Esoteric to Algorithmic
Cybersigilism was born in Berlin’s underground club scene, etched onto skin like ancient code. Merging black metal, runes, and glitch, it’s now a posthuman aesthetic reshaped by fashion- this piece explores its roots, its rise, and what remains when magic meets mass production.
Alon Livne, Fall/Winter 2023, Exocet Collection, Look 13. A sculptural black ensemble with anatomical cut-outs and mirrored visor eyewear evokes the language of cybersigilism, fusing techno-occult symbolism with posthuman elegance. The contoured silhouette and exoskeletal detailing echo themes of ritual, futurism, and bodily transformation central to the aesthetic. Available via Alon Livne © All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Cybersigilism is the hieroglyphics of the digital age. As an acute aesthetic, it’s seen an incredible surge in popularity in the last year. The style is reminiscent of sprawling black metal logography- if encoded on an old computer, then etched into the skin of clubgoers like code. It unravels across the skin with teeth, sprawling and hooking around the body with scythes for veins, marrying together the gothic, digital and futuristic.
Cybersigilism as a style of its own was forged in the blistering heat of Berlin Nightclubs in the form of tattoo, its rawness perhaps influenced by the steely and industrial resonance of the techno scene. While its spiritual home lies in the corners of Berlin nightlife, cybersigilism has since permeated the boundaries of the club, adopted by Gen Z counterculture where it’s become enmeshed with the blisteringly neon y2k aesthetic. We’re seeing the lovechildren of these two styles everywhere within the last few years, flaming hearts and neo-tribal tramp stamps adorning the lower back of each and every edgelord -as if Ed Hardy came from a century in the future.
Perhaps its appeal to Gen Z lies in its embrace of the posthuman and the cyber. Our identities are now entrenched and inextricable with the digital sphere, so why shouldn’t our bodies be too? We represent the age we live in, and our bodies act as vehicles for our identities to be etched upon, we are our own customisable characters.
Cybersigilism has specifically been adopted by certain scenes, such as Drain Gang culture- a Swedish music collective formed in 2013 by Bladee, Ecco2k, Thaiboy Digital and Whitearmor. It’s recognisable in its distinct blend of metal, industrial and electronic music (the meta-grandchild of Berlin’s techno scene), sonically encapsulating many of the same themes cybersigilism endeavours to: youth, futurism and posthumanism. The use of cybersigilism visuals in Drain Gang tour merch positions it as a language of counterculture, worn as a token of communication and cultural signifier.
Cybersigilism also heralds links to the more than human-digital tactile realm. A sigil traditionally refers to a sign or symbol used in magic. In the context of chaos magic, a punkish strain of witchcraft that popularised in the occult in 1970s Britain, the sigil represents a physical emblem of the practitioner’s desired outcome. This individualised evolution of the occult arguably promoted cybersigilism’s popularity within counterculture, where fashion innovation thrives on the fringes of society. In contemporary society, cybersigilism looks to be a witch’s curse in strings of code- damned upon the skin in ink for eternity.
It’s this techno-gothic aesthetic cultivated by cybersigilism is undeniably visible in the fashion world today. Rick Owens blends this mixture of ancient symbolism and technology seamlessly; his collections since 2020 look as if transported from the Dune franchise- bodies walk down dusty catwalks cloaked in ambiguous, monochrome monoliths that could be set in a spaceship, desert or another planet entirely. His models are draped in capes, with metal hardware used to construct garments. They wear masks and black eye contacts, their faces are painted with marks reminiscent of ancient Kakiniit Inuit tattoos, with triangles piercing the brow bone and lips overlined. A recurring theme within Owens’ recent collections is his use of inflatables- his inflatable boots were firmly put on the radar in February last year when a clip of model Alex Consani trying them on in the Vogue office hit TikTok. These shoes appear incredibly futuristic while remaining visually simple; perhaps it’s their spacesuit-esque cladding, or the fact that they appear like organisms themselves- full of air, as if breathing. The majority of his recent collections are made distinctly and recognisably Rick Owens through this use of inflatables, with colour blocked outfits in leather and latex distorting the body, poking out at acute angles. It’s as if models are walking straight off the Death Star and into Berghain.
Rick Owens Spring/Summer 2022 collection, Look 1. Available via Vogue A model is adorned in a sculptural black ensemble that fuses monastic drapery with angular leather and reptilian-esque boots. Her occult-like face markings nod to traditional ritual symbolism reimagined for the digital age. © All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
An Everpress article ‘The Rise Of Esoteric Symbolism in Fashion’ discusses the repackaging of the occult in the digital age as a means of searching for more-than- superficial connection in a reality dictated by binary 1’s and 0’s- whilst still participating in counter culture. This idea is perhaps best embodied by Alexander McQueen, whose work mixed the streets of London with Victorian and gothic romanticism- garments from the collection ‘Savage Beauty’ veil antlers in opaque sheets, and outfits made entirely from crow feathers, attire fit for a masquerade ball ending in human sacrifice.
McQueen’s work interacts with the cyber in addition to sigilism, his last ever collection, Plato Atlantis, in Spring 2010 operated as a prediction toward the future of fashion whilst pioneering the interaction between fashion and technology- being the first walk ever live streamed to the internet. The show was inspired by the prospective evolution of humans following the mythical sinking of Atlantis. The legacy of McQueen’s work will forever be labelled fantastical, with its finger on the pulse of the world’s digital transformation.
Most recently, cybersigilism has been re-skinned by the fast fashion industry, it’s popularity within the echo chambers of online discourse was quickly capitalized upon by high street vendors like Jaded London. Known for their male manipulator adjacent streetwear, the brand have begun churning out a slew of cybersigilism inspired pieces: hi-shine nylon coats, metal hardware and jeans slashed with blade like gashes- these all gesture toward Rick Owens, yet are materially diluted and stripped of their original arcane context.
There’s a particular sense of irony in watching cybersigilism- once grounded in chaos magic and underground club rituals- be flattened into polyester baby tees. Chaos magic, after all, was founded on an ethos of radical individualism, where the process and practice of magic were dictated by the practitioner rather than any ancient rulebook, charged with specific intention and energy. Yet in the world of mass production this intimacy is lost, the sigil remains but the spell is broken.
This urges an interesting enquiry concerning trend cycles: what becomes of subcultural authenticity in an age of hyper-visibility? Each and every aesthetic is catalogued, broadcasted on the internet to be commodified in real time. What began in the shadowy corners of Berlin clubs- then projected on the runway before being absorbed into the cultural mainstream. As Reddit threads cynically remark, cybersigilism in fashion and tattoo culture evokes a ‘cringy cool guy energy’, claiming the style will ‘move from being laughed at within meme Instagram accounts to being a joke in the real world the next year. We’ve watched cybersigilism shift from niche motifs within the undercurrents of the Berlin club scene- to the visual style of Drain as a genre, to techno- occult commentary within high fashion- to mere surface styling in fast fashion. As subculture is swallowed by the endless feed, cybersigilism becomes a sigil with no caster- just data, commodified and replicable.
