Dress for success

After writing my first note of the year on “dressing for success,” I’d almost completed a newsletter about experimenting with my work wardrobe before writing today’s newsletter from scratch. I was applying edits from my editor, Meghan, and noticed I was cramming too many ideas in one newsletter to explain my approach to this experiment. We decided to backtrack and separate each idea to lay the groundwork for you to understand my work wardrobe experiment better.

What is style?

As a noun, style is a manner of doing things or a distinctive appearance, typically determined by the principles according to which something is designed. The word derives from the Latin phrase “stylus,” an instrument. In an interview with Sheila Heti, art historian Alexander Nagel defines style as “the instrument, and by extension the hand that moves it, and also the trace left by the hand and instrument. When we say someone has style, we are not simply discussing the clothes but the person wearing them. We notice the sensibilities that chose the clothes and the body that found the clothes to suit it, and that moves inside.”

Since the beginning of this newsletter, I have hesitated to commit to a definition of style. I was almost sure it couldn’t be defined. I’d described it as a feeling, and I felt that most of the time, we are unsure how to describe it, although we know when we see it. However, in reading this interview, a definitive description of what constitutes style emerged, and most of it looked familiar. Without realizing it, I’d written ideas similar to most of what Nagel defines as style.

Nagel’s definition has provided a starting point for me to argue against and develop further, and in doing so, to offer a definition or framework for what constitutes style. For a long time, I didn’t think a definition of style was necessary, but lacking a framework for understanding what style is in the context of clothing and fashion for myself, my editors, and my readers have resulted in confusion and limited my ability to share developed ideas on how to build a functional wardrobe, what to reference, how to evaluate a “good reference,” and how to experiment with one's wardrobe.

Dress vs. fashion

Before proceeding to a definition of style, I noticed that many of the resources I used for research made distinctions between dress and fashion. Although I had effortfully and woefully tried to explain the difference in previous newsletters, I hadn't considered the need for a clear differentiation. I want to briefly note the distinction in terms here so it’s clear what I’m talking about when I talk about style.

The Oxford Dictionary describes dress as a specified piece of clothing formen and women but I prefer Elizabeth Wilson’s definition in Adorned in Clothes. Wilson says, “If the body with its open orifices is itself dangerously ambiguous, then dress, which is an extension of the body yet not quite part of it, not only links that body to the social world but also more clearly separates the two. Dress is the frontier between the self and the not-self.” In other words, before capitalism and the formation of individual identity through dressand the fashioning of the new competitive social order, dress in its basic form fulfilled an array of social, aesthetic, and psychological functions. Everyone has to get dressed; not everyone has style.

On the other hand, fashion is a product of capitalism in which the focus is always on the new, the next, the constant pursuit of an object that will fix your life. As Karl Marx puts it in The Manifesto, as society shifted from feudalism to capitalism, social life characterized by ‘fixed, frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices’ (dress) was replaced with modernity where ‘all that is solid melts into air’ (fashion). In Adorned in Dreams, Elizabeth Wilson wrote that fashion is “dress in which the key feature is rapid and continual changing of styles. Fashion, in a sense is change, and in modern western societies, no clothes are outside of fashion; fashion sets the terms for all sartorial behavior.” People with style, then, are not exempt from fashion, but having style is not the same as being fashionable. Style, unlike fashion, is not about the newest thing or the fantasy that a new wardrobe is the same as a new life.

What constitutes style?

Below, I have used Alexander Nagel’s interview on style to create a set of criteria that clarify what style is and what having style means.

Ease

In her interview with Nagel, Heti asked whether people can have style if they choose clothes they can’t move in. Nagel says, “Since stylus is also the name of the needle of a record player, it suggests that without ease of movement, registration is unclear. You don’t hear the music. Without ease, there is no style.”

During styling appointments with clients, I emphasize the importance of wearing fuss-free clothes. I am easily irritated with outfits, garments, or accessories that require the wearer to “shift it back into place.” It’s great that you love those slip-on Manolo Blahnik shoes, but can you walk in them? (Ease can be learned; it is not natural, but with practice, it becomes intuitive. Humans have to learn how to survive and sustain themselves in this world. The practice of learning how to live can be applied to learning how to walk in heels.)

When I began looking for jewelry for my client Laura, she liked the vintage Tiffany bangle I religiously wore. We found something smaller, and months later, she reported that the bangle had gotten in the way while she typed at work. I knew what she meant because I’d also experienced this annoyance while typing on my iPad. I either took it off or pushed it farther down my arm and used a higher table surface to avoid interference. Having ease can be about foregoing fuss, but it could also involve finding solutions for the fuss. And although I hate fuss, I make exceptions for garments or accessories that are integral to my style—items I cannot live without. I couldn’t do without a silver bangle in most outfits, so I found a solution. Ease while dressing is cultivated through familiarity with your clothes and educating yourself about proper fit, but you should not forgo the exciting aspects of dressing to look at ease. The difference between “looking at ease” and “being at ease” is balancing the most fuss-free and what feels the most appropriate. It’s deciding that bangles are essential to my wardrobe but finding solutions and scenarios to wear them easily. I found a solution for my bangle and typing problem, but I mostly wear my bangles when I do not have to type at a low desk.

There is thought that goes into a wardrobe and an outfit you feel at ease in — it requires thinking about how things go together, how pieces fit and move, and how you move through the world. Creating a good outfit is unseen work, no matter how perfect your wardrobe is. This does not contradict the idea of wearing your clothes with ease; ease results from a well-thought-out wardrobe. You must have thought about it for up to an hour or more. You may consider an ensemble incorporating various references, meaning you’d (subconsciously or consciously) previously gathered good references. You had considered the components separately, decided how they fit into your wardrobe, and purchased them. Maybe you’ve repaired or altered the clothes to fit and maintained them well. All that is work required to make a good outfit before you even put it all together. When you decide what to wear to make a good ensemble, you must consider the other components: hair, makeup, shoes, outerwear, jewelry, etc; that is all effort! Unless you’ve worn this ensemble or a derivative before, you might not get it right the first time you put it all together. You might notice the shoes you thought might work, but they don’t. But you don’t have to start from scratch with panic because you’d previously selected other shoes your wardrobe needed. You’d grab the next thing until you figure it out. This whole process can take 5-10 minutes or an hour, depending on how much previous effort you have put into developing a functional wardrobe.

In my newsletter on what constitutes good clothes and many other newsletters you have received, I extensively discuss understanding and finding good-fitting clothes. Tackling fit seemed like the most critical aspect of building a functional wardrobe. It impacts what I buy and how I wear clothes. I have previously referred to the movement of several garments I own, such as my Max Mara coat, a vintage Calvin Klein dress I wear backward because the movement is better, and my beloved Giorgio Armani navy trench coat—a reference for most of my clients looking to revamp their coat collection. The way a fabric moves on your body is determined by the fabric the designer chooses and how they cut it, the shoes you chose, and how they interact with the fabric of the outerwear you choose to go over it.

The beautiful sweep —the movement — of my clothes is partly why others perceive my style as effortless, although much thought went into achieving it. Although I have gripes with referring to one’s sensibilities for choosing the right garment and wearing it well as “effortless,” I can understand that perhaps methodically thinking about how you want to look ahead of time does make one’s style appear effortless because you may not have tried hard or had a panic attack to make a good outfit because previous effort is evident in the result. I tell my clients all the time that a good ensemble should communicate, “I tried, but not today.” If you choose a well-fitted garment designed with intelligent consideration for movement, you will look effortless as you move through the world. An outfit that looks effortless results from all your previous brilliant wardrobe decisions.

Agency

Nagel says agency is about marking the world in a certain way, but it is also receptive — it’s about how we allow the world to move through us.

Agency might be the most universally agreed upon quality of a stylish person. Most people agree that style is discerning what clothing one buys and how one wears it. However, there are two misconceptions about what this might mean: some people assume having style is about avoiding trends, while others think stylish people participate in and keep up with all the trends. I think having style is finding the balance between these two extremes.

The trick is to know what you like and why and to accept fluidity in what’s trending. The things you like will be trendy sometimes and unfashionable at other times, but you will not be too concerned about looking trendy if you trust your wardrobe choices. In 2019, I lamented to a friend about wanting capri pants after seeing a picture of Rihanna in black capris for French Vogue the previous year. At the time, capri pants were challenging to find. I eventually found red ones through the UK-based brand Eliss that spring. These days, capri leggings are everywhere. And my affinity for them does not change just because every Tom, Dick, and Harry wears them—anything can get taken up and become all the rage. Agency prevents you from feeling possessive over your style because who cares if you wore it first? Someone stylish will stand out when the things they like are not on-trend and blend in when they are—and they’ll be comfortable either way.

In contrast, efforts to differentiate oneself lead to (as Wilson puts it) “conformity, as the outrage of the never-before-seen modulates into the good manners of the faultless and self-effacing correct.” She says, “To dressfashionably is both to stand out and merge with the crowd, to lay claim to the exclusive and to follow the herd.” That is the antithesis of style.

On the other hand, it is a disservice to yourself to avoid looking at contemporary fashion because you think you need to avoid looking trendy. Truly stylish people allow themselves to be enamored by the new while refraining from assigning too much meaning to mere commodities like clothes. In my newsletter about fabric composition, I discuss the importance of practicing restraint over restrictions. You can enjoy looking at clothes and the titillating aspects of imagining how they might feel and move without purchasing them. Because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

Under capitalism, none of us are free from dressing fashionably, which means that, no matter how trend-averse one is, one cannot escape looking fashionable because capitalism forces those of us in the West to strive forephemerality to maintain social ascension, acceptance, and relevance. This forced ephemerality can look like poorly made garments at high costs, low-quality fabric/finishings, and strict dress codes. Marx’s alienation theory explains that the estrangement of workers from the means of production created a phenomenon he called commodity fetishism, which is a belief in the power of objects in themselves, sold to consumers as goods that can change their lives. Truly stylish people do not believe that any garment will change their lives. They do not fall for clothing fads or fashion crash diets that promise to solve long-standing wardrobe hangups. They are rarely precious about their clothes. Instead, they prioritize the labor and physical and creative resources used to create their clothes. Their relationship to clothes is evident in an appreciation of the designer’s artistic expression (what they choose) and the labor of the workers who created a physical manifestation of the artistic expression from the raw materials to the finished dress (how they repair and care for the clothes to promote longevity).

Waves

“Someone with style is irreducible, yet she is always in powerful relation to her moment. Even if she adopts styles from different eras or comes up with a style that has never been seen before, she needs the wave of the surrounding culture to do it.”

The extent of one’s style is not independent of the surrounding zeitgeist. According to Nagel, “the optimal condition for producing a stylish response (as in the styles of the twenties or sixties) is a combination of lots of sudden change, but also a good deal of incipient codification in new expressions,” which creates the right kind of tension. For this to happen we must stop looking to the past—we must move away from recycling from a well established menu.

Before writing this newsletter on style, I observed that today’s fashion looks better than I have seen in the last fifteen years, although there are pockets of dreariness. There is evidence for this shift everywhere you look—it manifests in the earnest attempts of the youth on TikTok, Substack, and Instagram. I have been a loud critic of the exhaustive theorizing of clothes, how to dress, and what to buy. I wonder if these attempts to understand fashion and the troublesome state of the world have contributed to creating a new wave of better dressed people, albeit clumsily. As we observe various groups of people rebel against systems that have contributed to abysmal living conditions as well as question habits and their participation in upholding deceitful systems that have contributed to over-consumption and excess, it is impossible to overlook those who desire to dress better and engage critically with dress and fashion. This newsletter and those who sustain it through subscriptions are evidence of this new wave.

But this new wave of fashion isn’t divorced from what existed before—it is the union of everything we’ve loved and despised in the last three decades. It’s in response to the past decades that we can find something new—and if this new wave is surfed by people with a deep appreciation for clothes and self-expression, we might see more stylish responses.

Fluid Armor

When Sheila Heti asks if style is related more to one’s character or body, Nagel responds, “I think style is the state in which one feels the least separation between one’s character and body. There’s no question that style is a kind of armor. We need it to get through the world. But it's a fluid armor.” I understand this response to mean that while style is an amalgamation of our different selves, modern dress also fulfills the social contract of covering one’s nakedness.

Recently, I’ve been experimenting with my work wardrobe (more on that to come) instead of letting my surroundings dictate what I wear (as I discussed in my newsletter on geographical dress codes). Although I am not dressing like most people in my small town, experimenting with my work wardrobe wasn’t a reaction to feeling that I couldn’t dress how I wanted. Instead, I noticed that I didn’t feel good in the clothes I wore to conform and undertook the challenge of finding out how I wanted to dress even if my ensembles demanded attention everywhere I went. It was never about making a big splash; my clothes were collecting dust, I was going through a difficult breakup, and I found comfort in putting myself together every day. This practice ensures I complete my work regardless of how I feel that day. I put on my armor, and I get my work done. Wilson perfectly articulates this sentiment: “The limits of conventional dress act as barriers we constantly attempt to breach, a boundary we dare to cross. It is both defense and attack, both shield and sword.”

While I have been experimenting with my wardrobe and no longer letting my environment dictate my decisions to the same extent, I consider how my fancier clothes affect my approachability. I think about what my face looks like and what my body communicates when adorned in my “nicer” clothes and accessories. I consciously avoid wearing sunglasses with specific ensembles if they make me look “unreachable.” But I also have moments when I purposefully choose garments that make me look out of reach if where I am going causes discomfort. I might button my shirt even though I prefer to leave the buttons undone to mid-chest. I will likely wear my sunglasses. These provisions are what make me feel at ease in my clothes. Style is not about completely disregarding societal or cultural expectations to express yourself and rebelling against what is popular.

Culture

To understand how culture relates to style, Nagel quotes Gilles Deleuze, “To carve out within language another foreign language and to take all of the language to a musical limit—that is to have style.”

I am keeping this section brief because I have written about how my ethnicity, race, and the culture of geographical location have affected how I dress. Simply put, it is impossible to have style without thinking about culture. You can read my thoughts on culture and style in my recent newsletters on geographical dress codes and how to upstage the bride.

Relearning/Change

According to Nagel, with style, they behave with the knowledge that they are always starting over. He says, “They have a sense of knowing how to do it, but also learning how to do it all the time.” The idea for this newsletter emerged from a newsletter (I will share soon) about experimenting with my work wardrobe. While writing about my experimentation, I began noticing that I was relearning the ways of dressing I’d learned when I lived in the Midwest. Although some of the clothes in my present wardrobe have been with me foralmost a decade, I am relearning how to wear them because of my recent move, which I am sure you are tired of hearing about. Walk with me.

Say someone who doesn’t usually wear heels sees a pair they like. A person with style will buy a heeled shoe because they like it and will learn how to walk in it through practice (outside or private). They will learn how to wear the heels with ease. They wouldn’t ignore wearing heels simply because they didn’t know how; they’d figure it out. When I briefly stopped wearing heels at the start of the pandemic, I forgot how to walk in anything higher than 2”, so I had to practice before incorporating more heels back into my wardrobe. When I learned to wear heels as a child — my grandmother taught me how to do it at the ripe age of 11 for my pageant — it felt natural, like anything else I learned at a young age. Until I had to re-learn as an adult, I didn't consciously consider that you could teach and train yourself to wear heels on any terrain or surface.

People with style are constantly relearning. They are not just unconsciously inhabiting whatever their typical approach is. They are conscious. Wearing a uniform is something that many stylish people do, but it’s not stylish if you wear the same thing over and over out of simple habit or to reduce decision fatigue. On the other hand, overthinking every decision you make as you get dressed isn’t stylish either. Style is about a specific approach to or attitude towards your clothes. You could call it sprezzatura, rizz, or swag, but it’s ultimately about grace and studied carelessness. A willingness to think, learn, and imagine new possibilities for your clothes without letting the need to get dressed weigh too heavily on you.

Practical Philosophy

Nagel says a person with style is also a practical philosopher because “their activity is not in their thinking, rather their thinking is in their style, in the way they move, dress, and inhabit the world.”

When I discussed ease as a necessity for style, I also mentioned that it needn’t be about foregoing the exciting aspects of dressing up to look effortless. Style is about balancing a practical and romantic relationship with our life and our things. Dressing well and having style requires romance but not without practicality. The practicality does not hinder the romance; instead, it enhances it. A practical philosopher finds what works, not necessarily through conventional or apparent means.

The practical aspects of dressing require discernment to know what to forego, return to, save for later, and how to find solutions — but there is a romance to this discernment as well. For example, I forewent appropriate shoes for wet weather until I began writing this newsletter and addressing serious wardrobe gaps. While shopping for shoes, I remembered why I’d initially abandoned the process the first time: I hated all of the conventional options for wet weather, especially rubber boots and snow boots. I couldn’t figure out how they fit with the rest of my clothes and refused to buy something I didn’t like just forpracticality. Instead, I took my time and learned about the available options, especially vintage ones. So, by my second attempt, I had extensive knowledge and practice solving wardrobe hang-ups for others. I first bought rubber penny loafers from Hunter. After wearing those shoes for over a year, I added rubber riding boots, which helped me tread through the snow. Then, I began learning about leather and decided patent leather was the solution formore stylish wet-weather shoe options. I purchased vintage Prada Sport calf-length patent leather boots (which I had difficulty styling initially, but I trusted my instincts and later figured it out), vintage patent leather Jimmy Choo boots, and two pairs of rubber clogs for even more casual wet activities such as gardening. I also learned how to make shoes resistant to wet weather and repair preventative shoes. My romantic side didn’t accept what was available. Instead, I yearned for the perfect rainproof shoe. After dedicating hours to considering non-conventional options instead of the least hideous traditional rain boots, I found well-made options I liked that aesthetically fit how I dress.

Note: I've been kidnapped if you see me in traditional rain boots. Do not call the police. I will charm my kidnappers.

Most people (excluding myself) assume romantics are thoughtless, impulsive, and delusional, which is far from the truth. Romance has a slowness to it — it’s spent thinking and desiring. To believe in and embody romance, one must have weighed the cost and decided it was worth it. A person with style does not consider individual clothes or accessories as “investments” but instead values the romance and artistry it took to create them and the time, artistry, self-discipline/control, money, thought, and education it takes to assemble a functional wardrobe. They had the discernment to know what they liked and to find the best they could afford because liking something is different from knowing it is good.

They understand yearning and desire intimately. They may shop for clothes to know what’s out there so they don’t miss the good stuff, but they are not constantly buying everything they find and like. One isn’t a romantic because they happen to be experiencing or giving love — a romantic believes even when love is out of season for them. Yearning for the possibility of love and patiently waiting and preparing for it is also romance.

A stylish person is a true romantic who knows how much is enough.