by We live in a world of excess. There’s so much stuff: relevant stuff, social media stuff, existential stuff. That applies to fashion, of course, too, where every scroll brings a new microtrend or an influence confirming someone’s death. How you want to dress can feel overwhelming. Shopping is about the qualities of checking off a list rather than investing in pieces that make us feel good. The internet would say we’re Carolyn Bessette or Kim Kardashian, we’re early 90s grunge or early gender glam, leaving the idea of personal style in a dark place filled mostly by glam. algorithm. In other words, making sense of fashion and finding ourselves in it is a confusing proposition.
In New York, I found so much vibrant direction in contemporary, subversive sportswear
Leave it to Mrs. Prada, then, to provide some much-needed clarity. “Let’s talk about the clothes,” she said backstage before Prada’s Spring 2024 show, coded by Raf Simons, which explored the power of craft while bringing ideas to life. The entire collections were filled with extremely wearable pieces, the kind you could imagine mixing and mashing within your own wardrobe, like jeans or trousers that fit perfectly when paired with shirts or dresses with slightly tweaked accessories and details, such as a curtain collar or head. extra set of sleeves. There was a renewed focus on the purity of clothing—and, with it, some much-needed optimism in these increasingly complex and confusing times.
Clothes are something I’ve been thinking about for a while, especially after re-entering the world of fashion at the start of Fashion Month in September. Between the pandemic, having a baby, and my previous work-from-home corporate job, I needed to dress like I used to. Clothing was less exciting to me, and I often felt overwhelmed by the micro-trends and ping-ponging opinions floating through Instagram, TikTok, and Substack. It wasn’t until I got back into the personal work life that I realized the joy that can be found in the simple act of dressing up.
Navigating new motherhood and feeling unmoored in my work life left me paralyzed in front of my closet, not because I was uncomfortable in my post-C-section body but because I had no clue what style I had It had been years since I was in an office, let alone one at a fashion magazine where, at least subliminally, taste was a prerequisite. I’ve always hated the notion that women should dress differently after becoming a mom (mom style is often more pragmatic), and I knew I wanted to be on the continuum of how I always approached fashion for myself, which usually contained a mix of femininity and gentility, sometimes making a statement but never too much.
I was once again reminded of that elusive sense of balance in fashion, as I glee at where we can these days, even if it’s in a hoodie draped over a floral ball skirt
My head would swirl. Could I pull off a vintage dress over cargos and single lug boots? Was a tailored tunic too “quiet” for me? Would I forever be stuck wearing my favorite high-waisted sweaters and Converse Chucks? I had to step it up, new gig and all, so I went for it, dressed in everything I had – sometimes successfully, sometimes not. And then the spring collections came down the runways and my love of clothes was truly revived.
In New York, Tory Burch urged me to consider how free it might be to stroll in a deconstructed crinoline miniskirt. She showed them alongside knit, wear-with-anything sweater jackets and a shaped collar that fit just against the hips. At Proenza Schouler, the pants that wore jeans got me. So the loose sweater turned into a tech organza skirt decorated with a palette, which opened my eyes to the possibility of wearing transparent (that is, try a long line top to cover your bottom half) and pieces of evening wear in light of the day Michael Kors did the same, with a wanderlust-inspired collection filled with classy shirts and skirts that felt both nostalgic and modern, my favorite formula.
Also in New York, I found so much fun direction in the contemporary, subversive sportswear shown by Eckhaus Latta and Rachel Comey – suits and separates made for women who walk into their closets with unencumbered, throw-on confidence -go. point of view, without input from TikTok’s talking heads.
Hillary Taymour of Collina Strada made me ache to wear more color, more print, more ruffles. The forced smiles on the models were a commentary on the way we go through the fog of the world right now, trying — struggling, even — to find happiness in our daily lives when the world is literally on fire. Personal style, in Taymour’s universe, is “attitude or aura, if you like. It’s when the energy and the clothes sync perfectly,” she says. “Sometimes it can be a signature styling trick, like someone always wearing a skirt over pants or someone always pushing up shirts a certain way.”
I was once again reminded of that elusive sense of balance in fashion, as I glee at where we can these days, even if it’s in a hoodie layered over a floral ball skirt.
Joy was also jumping at Luar, led by the brilliant Brooklynite Raul Lopez, who closed New York Fashion Week with a collection of deconstructed suits and stunning denim. “I think everyone should tackle dressing up a new restaurant,” says Lopez. “You go for something that’s comfortable or familiar but you also want to try something new.” And if he says I can wear a shorts suit this season, then, dammit, I’m going to try.
Then there was the wonder and whimsy of Francesco Risso at Marni. Risso’s opening and closing runway looks in Paris managed to touch on my seemingly contradictory sartorial desires, starting with a super simple and warm turtleneck maxi skirt and tank and ending with a giant floral dress covered in handmade flower cutouts .
Jonathan Anderson also struck this balance at Loewe, taking wardrobe staples like flat-front trousers, flat shoes, and pre-touch cardigans and transforming them with ultrahigh-waist silhouettes, sparkles, and radical cocoon shapes. I want to wear my pants higher now and maybe try putting a giant pin through the front of my dress. I like to pair a fringed skirt with a utility jacket or blazer, mix fabrics, and add a flounce.
It wasn’t just about the garment movement; it was about the way we move around the world wearing those garments
The movement was a theme throughout the collections, from Mrs. Prada’s cute and sand-swept surfboards at Miu Miu to painterly blob prints and Maximilian Davis’ draped cotton dresses at Ferragamo. And it wasn’t just about the clothing movement; it was about how we move around the world wearing those garments and, more importantly, how we feel in them as we go. This is where I could find my unbridled confidence, “come as you are” attitude.
That humanity also shone brightly through the upcycled trench coats at Balenciaga and the intricate, knotted details in Matthieu Blazy’s collection for Bottega Veneta. The latter lifted me, far away from the depths of my self-deprecating emptiness and into a place where it’s perfectly acceptable to walk around in a knit romper while lugging all your crap in a bag that is indeed, over to be talented (and worthy ) but also beautifully handcrafted.
As Blazy said backstage, the collection was about “blending worlds” and showing that “everywhere was a new possibility”. It was that freedom to express, that desire to experiment, that I lacked.
I remembered how joyful it can be to dress myself
In early October, I was leaving my apartment building in a pair of jeans, that black tunic that I wasn’t sure I’d wear well, and square-toe boots with curved heels that I literally had to clean before they slipped . on them. The doorman looked at me, smiled, and said, “You look great these days.” I thanked him and joked, “I got a job and I need something besides sweats to wear during the week.” We both laughed. I walked to the subway and remembered how joyful it can be to dress myself.
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