author’s note: Today we’re going to do something a little different because I’m in the writing mood, but not in the mood to write anything serious (I’m reminded that it’s kind of funny that reading is subjecting ourselves to the whims of people who write—it’s a nice little thing we do for one another). Admittedly, it’s a topic I think about often, but haven’t really written about in any great detail. So, here we go:
I’ve been thinking a lot about Getting Dressed™ recently and what that entails. My Instagram feed has been good and the streets of New York have been a feast for the eyes—I can’t remember the last time I was this well fed by both the internet and passersby. So, because some of us are still in a rut I’m going to aggregate a lot of data points into some loose tenets that I believe can be combined and applied by anyone.
Even though I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while, I feel weird writing out these notes because they might seem prescriptive—they’re really not supposed to be. They’re just some technical information you can use or ignore at your own discretion. Please enjoy!
part i: color theory
Black is a compelling color. It’s easy to look put together and cHic, there’s an undeniable sleekness to an h2t black ensemble that is only rivaled by a h2t white ensemble, or really any monochromatic ensemble. But black usually wins because it’s so accessible and versatile.
It’s also boring.
I remember reading about how to pick colors for clothes and makeup in women’s magazines during the 2010s. They explained how to figure out your undertones and which shade of red would be most complementary, how to pick a color based on your eyes, and how to incorporate Pantone’s color of the year into your wardrobe. It’s difficult for me to understand how anyone can in good conscience assert any kind of rule when it comes to fashion, but I find it interesting that some of these allude to certain general aesthetic principles that have endured across time and space. Color theory is one of those principles.
If you’re also bored of black, here are some ideas on how to incorporate color into your wardrobe:
1: as stated before, build an outfit with one color.
It can be any color. Pick a color you love and if you don’t already own pieces in that color get pieces to wear for this specific outfit. Let not thinking about color-mixing free up your mental energy to think about mixing textures, playing with proportions, and incorporating accessories that you totally forgot you owned. Then once you’re comfortable with the color, especially if you bought new clothes to execute this outfit, it’ll feel easier incorporating those pieces into other looks.
2: look to nature.
If you don’t want to think about it too hard, just look at plants and animals.
Interestingly enough, green has been having a moment in large part because of Daniel Lee’s use of a punchy, vibrant hue of it at Bottega Veneta. His collections have been a great reminder that greens are actually a neutral just like different shades of black, brown, grey and white are. Now that I think about it, honestly any color can be a neutral if you believe in yourself.
Here are some pre-vetted combinations, gratis because I want you all to feel like glitter:
blue + yellow,
brown + grey,
orange + green,
pink + eggplant,
red + blue,
and, my personal favorite for clothes, green + purple.
3: look at art.
When I’m in a rut looking at art is not only good for the insides, it can also be very informative. Looking with a mission encourages the eye to assess details more carefully with very little extra exertion. Both figurative and abstract art offer us a passive way to consider new color combinations.
part ii: proportions
This is probably the most important sections of this essay, but I figured it made sense to build this essay as one might build an outfit—first color, then shapes, then accoutrements.
Fashion will indiscriminately pick certain silhouettes to feature. Then, once they become accessible and expected, we’re subjected to aesthetic fantasies and garments that might not actually be interesting to us. Consider this sentence me breaking the spell of fashion for whoever needs to hear it. Because you really can wear whatever you want whenever, however.
Hell, wear a skinny jean if it makes you feel something good inside. It shows up on the outside, and in your gait.
Anyways, like I said this is probably the most important part of this piece and it’s probably worth looking out for when you’re outfit-watching.
1: think about negative space.
It’s interesting that besides the aforementioned adjectives, black is also considered a flattering color. Whatever that really means. It suggests there’s an ophthalmological preference for negative space—one might call it an objective, collective preference based on the ubiquity of black clothing. How else would one explain it since there’s no real utilitarian reason for it most days of the year?
So, whether it’s a cut out on a top or cuffing your pants (proportionally), creating negative space adds depth to an outfit.
1.a: on the topic of pant hems, I feel I ought to formally address this. And this is probably the one thing I’m going to lightly insist on rather than merely suggest.
I’m not going to yuck anyone’s yum, but I’m almost always going to pick a finished hem over a frayed hem. There’s a time and place for a frayed hem, but it’s gotten out of control and I implore the fashion pendulum to swing back.
When it comes to cuffing, my vote is: don’t, just get your pants tailored. If that’s not an option, the more casual it is the better. There’s rarely a reason to do a perfectly crisp/straightedged single, double, or triple fold. Instead of folding in a line, consider folding in a circle and loosen it up at the top and straighten it a bit at the bottom. Try to get a bit of the hem showing if you can, make it very je ne sais quoi.
The only time I think a single cuff works is if the pant has 4” or more of excess fabric. I’m definitely biased here. I’ve loved a wide monocuff since I was 16 and haven’t tired of it yet.
A trick I have re pant hems is cuffing on the inside, so it looks like the pant is that length without a visible cuff or hem. I think seeing a finished hem always looks great, but in a bind this works great.
Also, please don’t cuff them too high. Ideally, there will only be 1” (maybe 1.5”) of space between the end of your pant and the beginning of your shoe. Anything higher throws the proportions off for most outfits.
Also, consider forgoing cuffing altogether and just let your jeans pool at the bottom. It can look very cHic.
2: challenge balance.
The “big pant-little top” trend is an excellent example of balance. It’s also a trend that has become cliché and I’m happy to share there are other options out there:
Natural waist pant-at/just below belly button top (s/o to men who also have Miu Miu SS22 on their mood boards)
Big pant-little shirt-big shirt (wearing two voluminous garments is balanced when combined with a form fitting or cropped top with it, whether it’s peaking out or on full display)
Little pant-big top (I’m biased here, I think capris are the coolest thing ever. Pairing it with a renaissance-sleeve top and flats or little heels is *chef’s kiss*)
Basically think about rejecting your default silhouettes and see how you can find the harmony between seemingly incompatible proportions. Incorporating some negative space will be your friend here.
3: embrace asymmetry.
This is one of my most important tenants. I love asymmetrical tops, I like when a skirt is longer on one side than the other, when a pant has a detail on one side but not the other. Asymmetry is an aesthetically pleasing concept that is a formalized principle in Wabi Sabi philosophy. When employing this concept I think it helps to think about it as either “neutralizing” the asymmetry (think: keeping other elements very linear and balanced; combining it with another asymmetrical piece; etc.), or emphasizing it (think: if the bottom is heavy, make it heavier by layering another garment underneath/on top while keeping the top light [and vice-versa]; keeping the rest of the outfit/accessories sparse; etc.).
This one is fun to play around with and a principle that can be applied in simple and extreme ways.
part iii: ornamenting
Accessories add nuance to an outfit, they’re important and it’s a part of dressing I’d like to be better at. I’m writing this section for you and me.
1: add one thing.
If you know what I’m talking about, forget what that French lady said. If you don’t, good for you, you’re free from weird fashion dogmas that seem more true than they actually are.
Part of what can contribute to a rut is approaching dressing with a routine mindset: put on this shirt, fasten this necklace, buy these pants, etc. Doing one thing differently, even if it’s just putting on a different pair of earrings and an extra ring can make a difference. It’s like an appetizer when remembering how/trying anew w/r/t Getting Dressed™. And if you’re having fun with it add two things, three things—it’s a generous contribution to the collective consciousness in expanding the parameters of cHicnEsS.
And there’s a delight to maximalism that can be accessed and enjoyed by even the most monkish minimalists among us—like all these concepts, this too can be applied sparingly or very generously.
2: it’s okay to be frivolous.
It’s funny to how frivolity is treated like is a social sin. It’s the residue of the Protestant work ethic’s hold on our culture (aka the reason why western countries whose cultures were built upon Catholicism like France, Spain and Italy are less afraid of enjoying life’s pleasures [napping, eating, beauty for beauty’s sake, sex, idleness, etc.] than those with Protestant roots like Germany, England and the US. There’s a whole essay to be written about this, maybe one day). It’s also evidence of how the word’s feminine associations cast a negative connotation on the concept of frivolity. Despite being a billion dollar industry, fashion has long been regarded as a frivolous one. Frivolous not as a synonym for excessive or wasteful, but as one for vain and vapid. At their best, clothes offer us a chance to evolve alongside (or in spite of) the zeitgeist, to put beautiful objects on our bodies, and to wear a bit of our insides on the outside. And, with the same tools, sometimes we dress to hide or escape, other times to be seen as ourselves. Whenever I consider how simply making skin contact with certain objects and garments can make us feel differently about ourselves/ our mood/ our environment, I’m struck by the often undervalued part clothing can play in helping us exercise agency. What I mean by that is practicing dressing for oneself is a low-stakes, everyday way to help strengthen our decision-making processes for other parts of our lives.
For something whose forming parts are quite serious, I think it’s great that we can feel not serious and lighthearted about it.
Long live frivolous fashion!
3: don’t worry about getting things stained/scuffed/creased.
I often think about some tweets I saw a few months ago talking about Mary-Kate Olsen’s Birkin, replete with scratches, what looks like water damage, and faded seams. People were identifying that just wearing your stuff without being precious about it is the highest form of cHicnEsS. I’m not suggesting you treat your stuff like shit— whether or not you’ve paid a lot of money for it—but I am encouraging you to wear your stuff without worrying about life happening. A little wear and tear makes garments your own. In fact, really wearing objects turns them into little dreamcatchers for wonderful moments we’ve experienced, a collection of souvenirs for the places we’ve been and the people we were with. Leather looks better with wear and I’ve never seen a pair of sneakers that didn’t look better with a little scuffing. I guess what I’m saying here is wear your stuff! Don’t save it for someday or some occasion. Amanda says (with clothes, maybe she’s said it with words too) that everyday is an occasion!
following up on the last line of the last section: this collage is dedicated to Amanda because I can’t think of a person who is more in tune with their style mantra. no one does it quite like her.
part iv: misc.
1: wear bad outfits.
I don’t mean outfits that make you feel bad. I don’t like the word “should,” but I stand by my upcoming use of it here: you should never wear an outfit that makes you feel bad. And if you’re wearing an outfit that felt great and starts to feel bad, change. Immediately. It’s something I was known to do in college when my closet was just 10 minutes away at all times, it’s something I still do now. Just this weekend I was 15 minutes into a walk before I turned around and went back home to change. It’s rarely ever that deep, but I think it’s a nice thing to do for oneself.
Anyways, I mean bad in the sense of outfits you’re not sure about, an outfit that’s not conventionally perfect. I’ve been enjoying wearing outfits built from all my favorite pieces, even if they don’t necessarily “go” together. It’s been helping me remember that there are no rules and that it’s fun to have fun with clothes.
It’s counterintuitive to how we’ve been Pavloved (good outfit gets good compliments; we tend to like those; most of us try to iterate for the same effect), so if you’re curious on how to try this one out I recommend one of my favorite dressing techniques: spend 10 seconds picking an outfit. Count or put on a timer and just pull the first things that catch your eye. Don’t spend even one of those seconds thinking. Feel out what feels like a good outfit. I’ve been resisting the urge the change if something looks kind of off, instead using it as an opportunity to play with styling (i.e. tucking a shirt in, tucking half the shirt in, adding a blazer, adding a belt, etc.).
Besides being fun, it also feels like a reassertion of my desire to dress for me. Being perceived is such a funny thing and clothing has become the easiest way for us to do some presumptuous calculations re trying to figure out who a person might be in the split second of passing by one another. In shelving my concern for how an outfit will be seen, I’m reminded to prioritize how it feels to wear it. In many ways I feel like I’m 8 again (wearing skirts over pants because I loved wearing them so much and was determined to wear them in all seasons), adapting to preserve the good feelings clothes gave me without concern for perfection. Wearing bad outfits helps me remember that fashion isn’t scary or precious, it’s for me. And going out of my comfort zone is a risk that pays off: I’ve repeated outfits from this practice and am discovering new styling techniques that are helping me see clothes differently. It’s like lifting weights. When you lift a little heavier you become a little stronger, and can more clearly imagine lifting other weights. I definitely stretched this metaphor a little thin in the second half, hopefully you get what I mean.
(This suggestion is so long because I hope you’ll try it out.)
2: play in your closet.
On a night when you don’t have plans, put on your favorite music really loud, adjust the light so it’s vibey/not harsh, pour yourself a little drink/ smoke a little weed/ eat a little chocolate if you feel like it, and just start putting on clothes. Dance, look in the mirror, pretend you’re in a fun movie make-over scene, imagine scenarios for different outfits, and have fun. My approach is usually to pick a top or bottom and then pair it with all possible complementary garments. I don’t take pictures when doing this exercise because it ruins the creative flow and I believe in muscle memory, but if it’ll be helpful to you by all means take pictures and store them in a folder for a rainy day.
3: develop a mantra.
In meditation a mantra is a word or phrase that is meant to help redirect one’s attention back to center. I think the same concept can be applied to Getting Dressed™.
In observing the thing(s) that distinguish an outfit you love wearing from those you like wearing (or even feel indifferent about) will make it easier to employ it/them more easily. When you finish putting together an outfit that feels really good, consider observing what it might be. I think it’s helpful to think about it more conceptually than literally, for example: I like when at least one piece is very delicate or I look very Inspector Clouseau meets Helmut Newton, good for me.
Find your mantra and let it encourage your imagination. It’ll make it easier to sieve through the fashion and trends for the things that align with where you’re at, while remaining flexible and ready to evolve whenever you feel like it. This is probably the most important thing I’ve deduced that transforms clothes into outfits, fashion into style.
Concluding thoughts:
Anyone and everyone can pull off (and is strongly advised to consider) a casual blazer—I promise it’s so fun. Consider tweeds and fun colors, cool lapels and fitted/ loose cuts. Though starting out with something a bit more classic and casual might make the transition to casual blazering easier, any style you get will likely still feel relevant even once it’s not obviously trendy anymore;
I have some thoughts on shoes, for now I’ll say this is a good place to consider trying something new—a new pair of comfortable and cool shoes that you’ll actually wear is the easiest way to feel like you have an entirely new wardrobe;
Really consider embracing headwear: a hat, a bandana, some clips, a clip, etc.;
I hope men are wearing rings/bracelets/necklaces and leaving the top 2-3 buttons on a button down undone;
Yes, sunglasses really make you feel like ~that~ b*tch;
Wear accessories in ways that don’t make sense (i.e. Lenny Kravitz’s blanket scarf);
Wear patterns in ways that don’t make sense (like I said, occasionally wearing a not perfect outfit won’t hurt/is good for you);
Have fun
Also, it helps to follow people whose style you like or go on Pinterest. Make mood boards! Window shop! Thrift! Sit at a café or bench and people-watch! Happy dressing!