What The F**k Should We Wear?!
A chat about sartorial confusion on the brink of the Roaring '20s 2.0.
This is the free edition of Rich Text, a newsletter by Claire Fallon and Emma Gray. Rich Text is a space for the indulgent and the incisive, for witty and wistful explorations of the cultural, the personal, and the political in both written and audio formats. If you like what you see and hear, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Rich Text is a reader-supported project — no ads or sponsors!
Emma: As of late, I haven’t been able to shake the intractable feeling that I’ve forgotten how to dress myself.
Over the course of the last few weeks -- now that essentially all of my social circle is fully vaccinated -- plans have started happening again. Small gatherings and birthday parties and casual happy hours; things that just a few weeks ago felt like products of a bygone era. Part of me is elated over this development -- I mean, it is unquestionably good that people can socialize with far fewer risks! But with this social opening has come with a vicious return of my aesthetic desires and anxieties. After a year of wearing leggings and no makeup, what the hell are we supposed to put on our bodies now that our social worlds (somewhat) exist again? Please help, Claire.
Claire: I absolutely, 100% cannot help. I’m sorry! Also every time I check Instagram, you have posted 13 new stories in which you are wearing different and statement-making outfits, so consider this a call-out. You know exactly what you’re doing!
I think many of us are starting to get a restless sense around our wardrobes. People are so sick of their pandemic sweatpants they would happily burn them. We want to dress a little slutty, go to a rave, and lick a stranger’s face. Or whatever cool 20-somethings do. But what are we all supposed to wear to do this? It’s probably hard to tell because we haven’t been in the spaces where we usually get style inspiration, namely, around other people. Also, I can’t do this, and instead I have to make sure my child can have easy access to my nipples, which is pretty limiting.
But I don’t think I’m alone in being of two minds: I want to embrace showy, constrictive fashion that didn’t make sense for stay-at-home life, and I also don’t want to relinquish the comfort and freedom of expression that defined the past year. My current purchases are such a hodgepodge of stretchy sundresses, rigid denim, tee-shirts of all conceivable sizes and shapes, and leggings. I want it all! What do you find you’re drawn to for your vax girl summer aesthetic, Emma?
Emma: I feel exactly the same way! I’m fundamentally torn between a desire to dress like I’m going to a wild bacchanal and a desire to never wear a constrictive waistband or super high heel again in my life. This is probably why I feel a sense of confusion and anxiety when I look into my closet. (It probably doesn’t help our general sense of sartorial confusion that the production schedules of design houses -- where we all unintentionally, subtly, take our fashion cues from -- are all out of whack because of COVID.) Everything feels a little bit dated and a little bit wrong. I crave comfort but I also want to wear clothing that makes a statement and takes up space; clothing that says I’M BACK, BABY AND I LOW-KEY WANNA LICK UR FACE!
In no particular order, here are some things I’ve purchased since getting my first vaxx: A billowing, bright orange floral dress from Target’s collaboration with Christopher John Rogers. A stretchy but form-fitting black ruched skirt/crop top set from Abercrombie. Another Hill House nap dress. Gold layering necklaces from Madewell. Giant structural silk scrunchies from Room Shop. Basic cropped athleisure tops from American Eagle. Ripped up, high-waisted tapered mom jeans. Chunky Fila sneakers. Two new shades of Nars lipstick.
Is there any sort of uniform aesthetic? Absolutely not. But what I think all of these purchases reflect is the desire to be seen (and approved of!) without being confined in the ways that traditionally feminine, “sexy” garments often require. (See: the tyranny of the “going out top” that plagued us during the aughts.) We are all navigating the path forward out of a year of mourning and loss, and trying to do so gracefully and with as little additional pain as possible.
Claire: The question of mourning is always on my mind when I think about the upcoming year in fashion. For so many people, this year wasn’t just repressive, it was full of death and grief. Mourning used to be expressed in part through clothing. In the Victorian era, people would wear black for months after a death in the family, and in America it’s still quite common to wear black to a funeral. I understand the psychology of an outburst of color and frivolity after the hardships of this year, but part of me also wonders whether this is related to our cultural discomfort with grief. Hundreds of thousands of Americans died of Covid this year, and continue to die, and the eagerness to sweep past this massive loss and get to the partying is palpable. Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but part of me feels like we should all be dressing somberly as a visual reminder of all that’s been lost. What I’m saying is, bring back Victorian mourning dress! For the final six months we can switch to gray and lavender half-mourning, so it’ll get fun eventually.
What’s intriguing is that the Victorian aesthetic has come back a bit, in the form of cottagecore. You’re a strong proponent of cottagecore -- do you think it captures, to some degree, our suppressed awareness of how death surrounds us and we are all being borne back ceaselessly into the past?
Emma: I do love me some cottagecore. I never connected it to the idea of mourning, but you make an interesting point. In some way, our fashion choices always reflect a variety of imperatives of the moment. During the pandemic, many of us were (lucky to be) cloistered at home all day, cooking more and taking up baking as therapy and doing DIY home projects. Thus, modern Victorian-style garments fit the vibe. (There’s a reason that Doen dresses and Hill House Nap Dresses hit so well in 2020.)
Perhaps our desire to come back quickly and swiftly in all ways, including sartorially, is in some ways a reflection of our desire to bypass the grief process. But I also think that so many have been sitting in that well of grief for more than a year, feeling it deeply. And they’re just ready to not be quite so “in it” anymore.
Oddly I think that Hill House provides an interesting aesthetic blueprint for the way forward. Lately, the brand’s founder Nellie Diamond has been teasing its June 2021 big summer drop. The patterns feel weirder and more joyful than previous collections. Instead of simple stripes and gingham and solid (if sometimes pastel) neutrals, there are spaceships and bright florals and mermaid iconography and deep pinkish-reds and bejeweled sunglasses. Smocked dresses like the iconic Nap Dress feel to me like the perfect transitional garment: comfy, flattering, easy to wear, adaptable to different bodies, celebratory in a subtle way.
Claire, do you feel like the pandemic will have a lasting impact on the way we dress and the way we relate to beauty rituals that may have felt almost second-nature pre-pandemic?
Claire: Probably it will! As historians have pointed out, there’s precedent for this; notably, a catastrophic influenza pandemic paved the way for the Roaring ‘20s. Not only are people exploding with pent-up sexual energy that needs to be discharged through hedonistic partying and shameless peacocking, I think the year under wraps has given many of us the opportunity to actually think about something we often do by rote: dressing and grooming ourselves. It’s one thing to swing through a Madewell and browse for something cute and on-trend, but entirely another to spend six months in seclusion brooding over the competing values of comfort and aesthetically pleasing constriction and envisioning the ideal wardrobe.
On a personal level, I also relate to my body differently because I had a baby shortly before the pandemic. All of my dry-clean-only, closed-front blouses are still relegated to the closet. I have to think now in terms of access (easy for the boobs) and coverage (minidresses aren’t great now that I’m constantly bending over in public to attend to a two-foot-tall person who can barely walk). When you’re a thin, able-bodied, child-free, 20-something white cis woman, the fashion industry makes everything with, essentially, you in mind. As you diverge from that template, you have to be more and more intentional about how you dress.
I think I’m graduating into a time in my life when I am realizing that I have to start with the body I’m in and the needs it has, and dress around that, rather than thinking of my body as essentially a display rack for what’s in fashion. The same with makeup -- I simply didn’t have time or need to do a full face of foundation and a smokey eye each day, so I switched over to a basic all-Glossier (lol) regimen that I once found far too low-coverage. It’s quick, it’s light, and makes me feel good about my face.
This is my dream for 2021 summer fashion, and the eventual post-pandemic fashion cycle: That clothing will be more broadly seen as a form of personal expression and the meeting of personal needs rather than a prison of rapidly cycling, often unflattering trends.
What do you hope will go away, or be ushered in, by the dawning era of 2020s fashion?
Emma: Fashion should be fun! When it’s at its best, clothing and makeup offer us a way to adorn the bodies and faces we have right now in a way that celebrates them and our very existence. My hope for 2021 and beyond is that we can, as you said, embrace fashion as expression, tailored to the delight, whims and functional needs of the individual.
I have loved clothing and experimenting with my personal style since high school. There is something so incredibly satisfying about putting together an outfit that expresses your mood or vibe or feels perfect for the occasion. To me, the best outfits are the ones that make you feel alive as you leave your home and then become almost forgettable in the moments you’re living in them. (If you are thinking too much about what you’re wearing while you’re wearing it, that’s a sure-fire sign that something is amiss!)
Maybe you’ll remember a great outfit because it’s immortalized in a picture on Instagram. But what should really stay with you is the way you felt in it.
It’s naive to assume that we can do some quick overhaul of the damaging beauty standards that make dressing ourselves stressful -- first and foremost, the oppressive and unhealthy “thin imperative” we all live under -- but I do think there’s reason for hope for the Roaring ‘20s 2.0. Before COVID, we were already living in a moment where gender norms were being regularly challenged and fat activism was becoming increasingly mainstream. Perhaps a year disconnected from all the beauty and style things that felt like dictates in the Before Times but now feel like active choices, will help both of those movements along.
In a recent piece for The Atlantic, Amanda Mull described fashion as “a conversation,” maximally impactful when around other people. And that, more than anything, is what the end of the pandemic will bring.
For now, I’m dreaming about filling my closet with structured silhouettes that flatter my body instead of fighting with it. And neon… lots of neon.
Claire: You can really pull off neon, so God bless.
Here’s my other great post-vax fashion wish: The end of “hard pants.” Not the actual pants -- I have been wearing my high-waisted denim for months now, and I make no apologies -- but the cute little thing where we call them “hard pants” and sigh that we simply “never want to put them on our bodies again.” It’s fine if you prefer soft pants now, but there is nothing wrong with a structured trouser! High-waisted jeans are one of the few nursing-friendly ways I can make myself feel pulled-together now, like I’m actually presenting my body for adult interaction instead of swathing it in shrouds of fabric, and I am ready for everyone to be cool about it again.
In conclusion: Yes to mom jeans, Victorian-inspired garments, bold patterns, and wearing whatever the hell you want; no to saying “hard pants” and mindless dressing. And please share your own thoughts on post-vax fashion in the comments!
Want more Rich Text? Consider becoming a paid subscriber to support this now-curricular writing project, and receive subscriber-only posts and audio.
Yes! Love this! So aspirational. Would love to see more links to clothing from you guys. I bought a couple of things from the last list. Cheers gals!
ModCloth is having a sale, so I just bought three dresses in a giraffe print, a dinosaur print, and a T. rex print for my summer emergence. Apparently my post-vax wardrobe is centered on bringing the silliness of quarantine dressing out into the world!