causes for concern: fashion edition
brb, making a change dot org petition to ban plissé
hey folks! my newsletter writing’s been interrupted by some unforeseen circumstances.
so this week, i’m trying out a new, hopefully recurring feature called “causes for concern.” it’s going to be all low-stakes trends, ideas, concepts, or phenomena that aren’t anxiety-provoking enough to inspire a full newsletter, but nerve-wracking enough to merit mentions. i’m envisioning this as a seasonal entry much like our “playlists for nervous wrecks.”
paid subscribers can (and are encouraged to) comment and leave their own recent causes for concern!
Welcome to Causes for Concern, a litany of trends, ideas, concepts, and zeitgeist-y things that have been unsettling me lately. It’s an inventory for hot takes, unpopular opinions, and general dissatisfaction. Paid subscribers, feel free to add your thoughts (or fight me!) in the comments below.
My inaugural edition takes aim at the fashion industry, because the pandemic has ensured that everything in my closet is a hodgepodge of pre-pandemic comforts, quarantine-fueled fever dream purchases, and now post-pandemic “who am I now?” buys.
Shackets: I don’t know who decided that “shirt” and “jacket” absolutely needed to be combined into a portmanteau, but I’m not about it. I love a tunic-length piece of outerwear that can keep my tush a bit warm, but I can’t abide by calling it a shacket. That’s the Cause for Concern here. What’s next? A shanorack (shirt + anorak)? A shaincoat? (shirt + raincoat)? I cannot quantify the amount of social anxiety I feel when thinking about someone complimenting my new coat and having to say “thanks! it’s a shacket!!” You can keep your cutesie new SEO.
Plissé Everything: I don’t want to wear any fabric by the Oxford Dictionary as “puckedered.” Like I get it, it’s a bit of an early 00’s nod. And I’m someone who firmly believes worrying about wrinkles is usually a waste of time, and any fabric that forgives wrinkles is a lifesaver. But you’re telling me I have to wear a boxy dress that is awkwardly wrinkled like a close-up zoomed in picture of my crow’s feet? The world is coming to an end, I don’t need this.
Long-Line Sport Bra Tops: Nothing says “I don’t need an underwire bra” like these. They remind me of those wildly uncomfy “shelf bra camis” that are always around but that no one I know actually wears. The sleek look at the gym is nice, but if you have any hint of a love-handle, or a lil unruly chunk of armpit that always sticks out, or you just…I don’t know…require a modicum of support while moving. I don’t mind my tops and bras being separate. It’s better that way. I swear.
Make-Up Beads/Bedazzled Eyes: Listen, ya’ll know how I feel about Gen-Z and Euphoria. The make-up artistry? Top notch. But the glued faux pearls framing the eyes? The beads crowning the eyebrows? The rhinestones teetering near the bridge of my nose? Nah, dude. You can’t tell me that gluing this shit to your face gels with anyone’s skin care routine. And unless I have surgeon-steady hands (I don’t) and a fuck ton of time in the morning (I don’t), I guarantee that I will look like Yelp’s lowest rated clown and I got lost on my way to unsettle small children at a backyard birthday party.
if your name isn’t maddie the baddie or jules, put the rhinestones down plz 5. The Boxy Blazer: Some of you spent too much time during the pandemic watching 80s women-in-business movies like “9-to-5” and it shows. Look, blazers have their uses. And they bring a certain level of polish to an outfit. It can be a nice homage to women-new-to-the-workplace of decades yore. But we don’t need to go back to big shoulder pads. Or boxy cuts. It’s hard enough finding flattering clothes with my post-pandemic body. You can’t give me a little nipped in waist? Or just, any shape that’s not a rectangle? Please? Pretty please?
we all know i’d look like a drowned rat in a big blazer like this, but she looks like she just accused Don Draper of harassment and honestly?! i’m into it!
