Leandra Medine's Blog, page 46

What’s the Deal With Gummy Vitamins and Should I Be Taking Them?

It’s 11:13 am and I have consumed 5 Smarty Pants gummy vitamins and two from the brand 8Green. The Smarty Pants gummies have either tricked me into thinking I am now adequately protected against whatever it is a woman’s multivitamin is supposed to protect me from or they have actually done it. (I’ve got clarity, I’ve got e-n-e-r-g-y and let me tell you, I feel strong.) The 8Green gummies, which are packed with “the equivalent of 15 cups of broccoli” and also contain spinach, kale, wheatgrass, blue green algae, spirulina, chlorella, and aloe vera, promise to satisfy my greens-consumption quota for the day. They taste like sour sticks, so it is basically Christmas in my mouth every time I’m graced with the privilege of chewing.

I’m going to eat lunch soon, then want something sweet, probably because I’m coming down with a cold–so instead of a chocolate cube, I’ll have three Airbornes. Later, I’m going to get a coffee, realize I did not need the afternoon caffeine, have a terrible time focusing and thus I’ll want to help myself to, like, a twin set of Lord Jones mango-flavored CBD gummies. They chilllllllll me outttt. By the time this has all happened, I will realize that the day has gone, I’ve had 12 gummies, my sugar levels have spiked and now I’m too wired to fall asleep. Not to worry, though! The emergency container of sleep gummies in my bathroom has never not worked when I’ve needed it, so you can make today’s total gummy count 14.

This portrait of a regular day in the life of a woman who will do (taste) many things to justify sugar intake prompts my asking three key questions, the first of which being: when the hell did we replace regular vitamins with gummy bears? While the direct-to-consumer market continues to explode in the supplement space (see: Needed, Ritual, Goop et al) a sneaky genus of healthy addendum has effectively taken over. In 2017, Nutrition Business Journal estimated that gummies made up 65% of the entire market. The following year, the market’s revenue grew, like, 30%, and as of last week, a market study on the gummy vitamins has been added to Research and Markets (~apparently~ a big deal) that suggests pretty rapid growth over the next five years. This basically answers my next question–no, we have not reached peak gummy, but we are headed toward a storm that only Barney could have predicted.

And oh what a rain it will be!

Anecdotally, I have found myself the benevolent, repeat-customer to brands such as Olly, Smarty Pants, and Garden of Life. A speed search through Amazon has also caused me to become interested in Solimo–for when fish oil is just too fishy, Goli–for people, I guess, who take apple cider vinegar pills and Mary Ruth’s biotin gummies, for stronger nails! And longer hair! And stuff. (To be clear, I have tried none of these.)

One thing I forgot to mention is that all of these gummies–they’re not varietals of Flinestone-shaped pills. They’re not meant to trick your kids, or protect them from a capsule. They’re being consumed by adults, like me, who seem to feel better about saying they’re having vitamins post-lunch in lieu of, I don’t know, a box of Mike & Ikes. That I took no vitamins at all before I was turned on to the gummies seems to make their case, at least in my, uh, case, but I know the product is a moot point. Some say they work, some say they’re garbage. It’s hard to ascertain whether they’re actually paying off (though I’ll say that I don’t get sick often, even with twin toddlers, and I’d like to think it’s because every time the feathered tip of a cold tickles my throat, I pop a trio of Airborne like they’re Mentos and wham bam thank you ma’am, for the updated “freshmaker”) but maybe I should be asking what is so hard about taking a regular vitamin. What, according to the data is so hard about a booming market’s worth of adults taking regular vitamins. Maybe we’re addicted to sugar or maybe, just maybe, we are still refusing to grow up.

I can’t be sure, are you?

Photos by Jessica Pettway. Prop Styling by Sara Schipani.

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Trust Me, Try It: The Journal I’ve Kept for 8 Years, and Another That Helps Me Get Shit Done

There are two types of people in this world: Those who keep a journal, and those who haven’t yet found the right type of journal for them. If you fall into the latter camp, let me introduce you to the two easy-to-keep journals I’ve been using every day for years. (Yes, years.)

Journal #1: One Line a Day: A Five-Year Memory Book

The price: $10.17

The reason: I’m not one of those writers who, as a child, filled endless notebooks with amusing fiction, retellings of elementary school gossip, or fake magazine articles (to be referred to in a career profile after making it big-time). I wish I were. In reality, I’ve always been a patchy journal-keeper at best, ebbing between bouts of daily writing and months of undocumented living. That is, until 2012, when I started keeping a “One Line a Day” journal.

The journal, as its name suggests, is supposed to be written in once a day—one line only. In practice, I can normally squeeze in a couple of short sentences, but the sentiment remains: It’s not a journal for telling stories; it’s a journal for recaps, musings, and punchlines. The second most intriguing thing about this journal—beyond its limited writing space—is that it’s designed to be used for five years. The book has 365 pages and each page is split into five sections, one for each year. The first year you use it, you fill in the first section of each page. When the next year begins, you flip back to the front of the journal and do the same with the second section. Once you’ve been writing in it for a couple of years, every day you are gifted with a little reminder of what you were doing on that day in previous years.

I was 20 when I started my first One Line a Day journal, an editorial assistant, single, and took myself extremely seriously (only one of these things is still true). Eight years later, I’m on my second one, which I will finish at the end of next year. This journal is quite literally my most prized possession. Inside these two books is every heartbreak, promotion, move, doubt, big win, love, and loss that I’ve experienced in the last eight years. I can’t imagine ever not having one of these journals on my nightstand.

Journal #2: Leuchtturm1917 Dotted Hardcover Notebook

The price: $19.95

The reason: I could end my journal love affair story right there, but that wouldn’t be a story about two journals now, would it? It would also mean robbing myself of the opportunity to talk about my second favorite: the Leuchtturm1917 dotted notebook, which I also use every single day.

I’ve always been a list maker (to-do list, to-buy list, to-get-over list), but in 2017 I succumbed to the hype and started bullet journaling. (If you’re not familiar, bullet journaling is a very specific but extremely customizable type of journaling that uses a bullet-point system.) I attribute it all to my former editor (now close friend) Rachel, who literally wrote the book on bullet journaling. In the book, and in real life, she recommends the Leuchtturm1917, so, naturally, it’s what I bought. The journal comes in 19 different colors—I had a sand one through 2017–2019 and bought a black one for 2020—and has thick, milky pages that feel oh-so good to write on.

Bullet journaling, like slam poetry and windsurfing (I’m guessing), feels incredibly intimidating until you actually start doing it yourself. Your layouts can be as basic or as intricate as you want (mine are super basic) and once you get your head around the simple dot/arrow/slash/box key, it’s basically just a fancy-ass to-do list on nice paper stock. Talk to anyone in the Man Repeller office and you’ll quickly learn that I have a reputation for being “organized” and “together.” The truth is, I just have a bullet journal.

Just like Sailor Moon is busy fighting evil by moonlight and winning love by daylight, I am doing two equally important things at different times of the day when I start my morning in the office by updating my bullet journal to-do list and habit tracker, and finish each night with a One Sentence Review of my day. If you’ve been looking for a new way to keep tabs on your tasks (and appear like a :star: in the office) or for a diary that doesn’t feel like an overwhelming time commitment, trust me, and try both of these perfect journals.

Photos by Alistair Matthews. Prop Styling by Max Rappaport.

Styled with 26 Juin Bijoux and Roxanne Assoulin bracelets. Alarm clock and lamp by EQ3.

The post Trust Me, Try It: The Journal I’ve Kept for 8 Years, and Another That Helps Me Get Shit Done appeared first on Man Repeller.

NYFW Street Style Day 3: The Camel-Colored Clothing Jumped Out

If you thought for a second that the gravy train of good outfits from New York Fashion Week might begin to taper by Day 3, then darling you were dead wrong! This particular installment of street style has me wondering, post Lunar New Year, whether this is indeed the Year of the Rat–I just saw one, so that checks out–or actually the Year of the Camel.

Why? Well. I have never in my life seen so many good camel-and-khaki-colored coats, sweaters, blazers, and boots. That’s not to say that this season’s street style is lacking in vivacity by any means, because in many cases that camel color is worn with a collar that would make the House of Tudor proud, or a petal pink pantsuit, or denim covered in doodles.

Tl;dr the timeless continues to coexist with the semi-ephemeral in happy harmony! And that’s a fashion week thesis I can get behind. I recommend scouring these pics for ways to pair the camel (or neutral) pieces in your closet with that hand-embroidered peasant blouse you always thought you’d wear more often. Or something like that. Then proceed to tell me your stories of inspiration and triumph in the comments, where I’ll be doing the same.

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Photos by Karolina Kaczynska

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Jellicle Cats, an Inexplicable Eminem Performance, and the Good Movie Actually Winning: Oscars Chaos, Examined

It’s been two years since the Oscars had a host and… it shows! From sun-up to sundown, last night’s Oscars were like a runaway ball of yarn being chased by a gang of Jellicle cats. The only time I felt centered while watching was during Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph’s bit, which had so much Big Host Energy I temporarily felt safe again. Like I knew which way was up. Like, after being lost in the mall for half a day I finally found my mom waiting for me at our emergency meet-up spot, Cinnabon. (Billie Eilish, I realize, may disagree.) Other than that though? Pure chaos. Let’s review.

Sartorial Chaos: The End of the Little Women Group Chat

We’ve spent a decent amount of energy musing on the wardrobe stylings of the Little Women cast, both in the film and on the red carpet. Do they coordinate via group text?, Harling has wondered. It seems last night the only thing they coordinated was putting their phones on airplane mode and winging it. Greta went right in a regal Dior gown! Timmy went left in a Prada suit that had people confusing him for security! The movie’s costume designer, Jacqueline Durran, went straight up to the stage to collect her award! The one discernible sartorial connection was probably the least expected: Saoirse and Florence in sea creature-chic.

Cameo Chaos: Eminem’s Inexplicable Performance

Considering time is precious at the Oscars, it’s strange that they opt to air what we in the tree-trimming business call “evergreen content”—montages with tenuous relevance and zero urgency, that would, if we’re being honest, be better off living out their days as YouTube supercuts. But choosing to have one of those random clips from said montage transition into an entire live performance by Eminem without even hinting at a logical reason for it? So chaotic your best course of action is to simply surrender and murmur “mom’s spaghetti” into the middle distance until you’ve been delivered into the arms of a commercial break.

Culinary Chaos: Our Thai Food Arriving Very Late

This one did not get air time on ABC, but you may have seen on the Man Repeller Instagram story that we ordered delivery to the office that was supposed to take 45 minutes to arrive but actually took around two hours. The havoc this wreaked on our Oscars coverage operation cannot be overstated and leaving it off this list would be dishonest.

 

 

 

Cats Chaos: Stars Throwing Their Own Movie Under the Bus

I think we can all agree that the cast and crew of Cats have been through a lot, and nobody expected to see much of them at the Oscars. But by the time James Corden and Rebel Wilson took the stage in full cat costume, their presence somehow made sense. However, James and Rebel throwing their Visual Effects team under the bus before presenting an award for that category? I wanted to spray them with my “bad cat” water bottle.

Radical Acceptance: Joaquin & Renée’s Extreme Speeches

Jaoquin was extremely Joaquin and Renée was extremely… Judy Garland? Ah yes, now I get it—Renée was just giving us a little taste of Judy to reiterate how deserving of her award she was. Extra credit for Renée!

Then, Finally, Non-Chaos Chaos: The Good Movie Actually Winning

We’ve become so accustomed to being wronged by awards show results that when Parasite swept Dolby Theatre last night, it was genuinely disorienting. It reminded me of the strange feeling of getting what you wanted—like say, a raise—after you’ve worked yourself into a tizzy preparing for the opposite. I bet Bong Joon-ho felt like that, except instead of a raise he got to tie Walt Disney for winning the most awards in one night and the sweet satisfaction of finally convincing American moviegoers to watch something with subtitles. (Well, he’s probably getting a raise, too.) Eternal congratulations to Bong and his hive.

And now, please consider the comments section a bulletin board for further analysis of last night’s antics (including notably strange moments not mentioned above, of which there were many). Or feel free to simply sign the petition to bring back a host (Aubrey Plaza has been doing a prettttty great job at the Independent Spirit Awards the past two years…). Or maybe you have some ideas about how the Oscars could trim the fat until the show is a tight hour during which no one slowly loses their mind? That is, if we’re sure that’s what we want.

Photos via Getty Images.

The post Jellicle Cats, an Inexplicable Eminem Performance, and the Good Movie Actually Winning: Oscars Chaos, Examined appeared first on Man Repeller.

One-Sentence NYFW Reviews Day 4: Collina Strada, Tory Burch, Sies Marjan, and More

Man Repeller’s famous (in niche circles) one-sentence reviews are BACK and better than ever (I predict), so floss your teeth and tie your shoelaces, my elegant mongooses (just Googled and the plural of mongoose is regrettably not “mongeese”). We’ll be whipping up dispatches like they’re the fashion week equivalent of egg whites, occasionally light on actual fashion but perpetually heavy on the spice that is LIFE ITSELF–the emotions, the celebrity sightings, the subway delays, the elaborate snacks, the joy of staring at the back of a familiar head, etcetera! This page will be updated once a day, every morning, with the prior day’s insights and observations, so don’t forget to check back. See you in the comments.

Day Four
Chromat

If you asked me last week if I thought I’d spend Sunday night at a place called #RiseByWe, a gym operated by WeWork, watching a strength-training session, its participants dressed in ROYGBIV gradients reminiscent of the Speedo one-pieces you may have worn to swimming lessons as a child, I probably would have said “no” and moved on pretty quickly. But life can surprise you sometimes. So there I stook last night, underground at the Chromat show, watching models like Kimberly Drew and Alok demonstrate how it’s done (all in service of “protesting the exclusionary gender binary that has come to define the Olympics”), completely envious of their spunky energy and flexible range of motion in the face of a steadily creeping Monday morning. —Edith

Collina Strada

This season’s Collina Strada show took place at The Dance, a new(ish) nightclub formerly known as ”that place where I had a weird time on my husband’s birthday.” I was excited by the prospect of rewriting this association with some help from Collina Strada, but, as luck would have it, another “weird time” was had. The clothes themselves were true to what Collina Strada is known for—they were easy-to-wear, environmentally-friendly pieces that echo the sentiments and political fixations of the moment. This time, though, designer Hillary Taymour took a sunny approach to the topic of global warming, sending her models into the show’s garden set wearing bright prints and carrying rakes, hoes, and spades. Reception in the audience was subdued, as viewers were either too packed into the small space to murmur amongst themselves or, more hopefully, mulling over how to best process this steamy hothouse vision of the future. The best moment of the show was when Paramore’s Hayley Williams closed out the evening with a powerful performance of her new song ‘Simmer.’ Everyone stayed seated to watch until a collective groove took over the room–proof that clothes are always only one part of getting the bigger picture. —Ruby

Sies Marjan

Have you ever owned a pair of real Danish clogs? I’ve had like ten pairs (of clogs) over the years but none have actually been Danish and I’ve never even known I want a pair until a parade of men’s looks from Sies Marjan’s Fall 20 range marched the runway on the 59th floor of a building with floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking New York. They were paired with gold-accented denim and a trench, one white pajama set with small floral renderings printed on it (my look to be sure) and on the women, more delicate pairs combined with chunky socks and the most gorgeous shades of yellow and green and pink and beige. Sometimes I wonder: what’s the difference between color and Color. It’s Sies. (Can I call it that?) —Leandra

Bevza

One of my biggest sartorial frustrations is when a shirt doesn’t tuck properly. Another is when a long vest or coat or blazer constricts me too much OR bunches up against whatever I have layered underneath. At Bevza, designer Svetlana Bevza considered it all: the long shirts had side slits up to the models’ hips. A brown button down was tailored on the sides so that you could tuck it in the front without it looking bulky or like a weird unintentional tail. The blazers had cuts in the back so that they flared out to give them a touch of femininity. It was like Bevza read all the “dressing struggle”-related comments on Man Repeller and then designed a collection to solve for everything. THANK YOU. —Elizabeth

Brock

There are two kinds of people in the world, those who pair navy with black (nee Phoebe Philo) and those who pair brown with black (nee Miuccia Prada)—Brock is the latter and what you get as a result is this, like, deeply feminine, romantic collection of clothes that Harling described pretty perfectly as “Little Women but make it fashion.” Today the models wore layers of embroidered tulle over their faces and hair, tucked back with their ponytails to create a sort of “sporty bride” head. Their brown suede not-quite-knee-length boots, which were flat, signaled my burgeoning-trend-o-meter because they were the same practical height as the ones I saw at Tory Burch this morning. One styling tip I’ll take away blends a thin leather waist belt with a silk scarf, rolled up really skinny to tie above or below said belt, leaving a pointed end at the middle point, peeking out from behind. And as for that white gown? Someone! Anyone! Please. Host a garden wedding. —Leandra

Area

I was the first in line (a first and likely a last) for the Area show this morning, hosted at the Africa Center on 109th St and Fifth Ave, the interior of which could be aptly described by a 2004 David Byrne song I’ve been listening to this week called “Glass, Concrete, & Stone.” Through the big, brutalist windows, you could see passersby with strollers and kids and big winter coats looking in and considering the spectacle from a slight remove: What were they thinking about the clothes (and the robotic, synchronized way the attendees watched them through their phones)? Were they surprised by when the model revealed a heart-shaped cut-out in the back of a short dress? Did they wonder about the hair, styled in a ponytail wrapped around the models’ necks? What struck me about this show was how it could outfit and appeal to so many different people—those who prefer full coverage or those who tend toward the scantily clad; those in search of a quintessential 90s going-out-dress and those who covet something with a strong sleeve; those who like a sheer tight or those who opt for a bare leg; those who want their clothes to do some of the talking, to break the ice, but leave them room to do the rest. —Edith

Tory Burch

Welcome to Sunday morning at Sotheby’s during fashion week, where the espresso beans are Sant Ambroeus-branded and the runway show is also an art installation featuring human-size candelabras. I should tell you that I was seated next to two of the stars of Cheer, and everyone was losing their shit! They were both wearing full Tory Sport looks, and one of them thought her hair looked terrible but I can assure you it looked great and the pink sweater/skirt combo in the triptych above was there purely because they both mentioned how much they loved it. Anyway, here are a few things I picked up on: strapless garments are coming back, and we’re being asked to wear them with boots; the best coat option for next winter, if you are not interested in a cropped, low-key aviator-inspired style to pair with your skinny jeans and thigh-high, drawstring boots is 10/10 a robe coat; square-toe shoes are coming back in a more mainstream way—sorry denizens of the Lower East Side! And finally, an army green sweater with electric red trouser pants tucked into embroidered pointed toe boots appears to be the simple styling template and color combination no one wanted to see coming but we will, no doubt, be taking. I can lead if you want. —Leandra

Day Three
Laquan Smith

I would give my left arm to someday possess half the glamour of the Laquan Smith woman. The utter sex appeal of this show!!! Texture, big boots, and bodycon ran amok, or, I guess, catwalked. Strutted. It reminded me of the runway shows of the 90s where the women were so bodied and the walks were so luxe that all you could do was stare slack-jawed. Wish I could have grabbed a pair of quilted puffer boots or metallic pants on the way out as everyone was clearly off to continue their elegant, sexy party and I was off to inhale a bowl of pasta. —Amalie

Ulla Johnson

Ulla Johnson is known for her satin, crotchet, and lace garments, but for me, her show this season was all about the accessories. Long gloves and scrunched knee-high knit socks paired with sandals and corset belts complemented the clothing well and showed the versatility of the designs: wear your floral dress to work with a blazer and then swap it for a corset belt and sexy long gloves on a night out. For my purposes, I’ve now figured out a warm enough way to walk the Williamsburg Bridge in a dress once again: just add a tall knit sock! —Elizabeth

Sandy Liang

The energy at the door of Sandy Liang was somewhat manic–a slew of shivering humans waiting in line to get in, and frenzied publicists scrambling to write people’s seat assignments on notecards as quickly as possible. Once we made our way inside and sat down–on a row of benches inside the lobby of Stuyvesant (a public high school in Tribeca)–it was as if the room let out a collective sigh of contentment, and that’s before we even saw the clothes! Which were good by the way, and markedly different from the brand’s prior collections, erring on the side of pared-down (save for a few eyeball-patterned pieces) and firmly conjuring the realities of an actual woman’s wardrobe instead of simply the runway version of it. I’ve always enjoyed Sandy Liang’s collections, but this one felt like a tangible turning point–a demonstration of her ability to the streamlined mood that is permeating the industry at the moment, but not without sneaking in a little human anatomy while she’s at it. —Harling

R13

WHEW! Fun fact about me: I thought I was a punk in my youth. I wore platform Doc Martens and heavy eyeliner and leather jackets and smoked CIGARETTES (sorry mom!), so I can say with certainty that 2009 Amalie would have flipped her little lid for this R13 runway. And the sweet thing is: I think that tiny punk bird still flutters inside my heart, so as I watched these comically large bowler hats and chunkzilla shoes and oversized jackets that could fit three grown men in them thunder down the runway, I felt alive in a way that I haven’t in a bit. There’s a 50% chance that in 3 years, I return to my roots. I’ll probably be wearing R13. —Amalie

Hellessy

I spent the majority of the Hellessy show looking at the models’ feet, which–before you accuse me of being the pervert that I 100% am–were the style star of the show. There were monochromatic pairings of white or black socks and delicate lace-up sandals corseted over pants (reminiscent of this trend that Harling Ross forecasted back in resort season). The clothes themselves were a field day of silk, velvet, brocade, and tweed all harnessed by effortless designs. Catch me wearing this oversized sweater someday soon, playfully slapping everyone I know with the sleeves. —Amalie

Susan Alexandra

Susan Alexandra’s show invite this year described it as a musical, but even when it opened with a splashy musical number I was still convinced the term was being used loosely. Absolutely incorrect!!! This was a full-on 30-minute original musical worthy of Broadway. Starring a mix of comedians and actors I recognized from her past presentations, it followed a semi-autobiographical story about Susan gathering the courage to open a store in Soho. Damn, I can’t figure out how to explain this without making it sounding dumb, but the truth is it was the coolest and most creative show I’ve seen in the eight fashion weeks I’ve attended. Nobody could stop smiling. The songs are in my head! Fashion week is so often about spectacle, and this was definitely that, but it was also different in that it actually offered more than Instagram fodder (in fact, it didn’t really translate via iPhone at all). It felt almost vintage in that way. The prevailing feeling as everyone walked out was that it couldn’t have happened anywhere but New York. —Haley

Christopher John Rogers

This evening marked my second time sitting in front of a Christopher John Rogers runway, and once again it was evident that this former up-and-comer has fully and completely arrived—as evidenced by his power to put on a show with the kind of qualities I fantasized about before working in the industry: a great soundtrack, literal smoke, fun lighting, clothes so dramatic they make your breath catch in your throat, and a crowd that freely whoops and cheers with every modelesque flourish. And most important of all, nothing felt overwrought, or piled on simply for the sake of a compelling Instagram—it was a genuine expression of joy and artistry, right down to Rogers’ show-stealing final bow. —Harling

Tibi

At the Tibi presentation (which was chock-full of clever references to air travel–from neck rests that double as coat collar decor to airport-branded socks), I ran into the brand’s president Elaine, who started talking to me about the experience of decorating an apartment. “You really have to seek out stuff that’s fun to look out but super practical at the same time,” she said, and we both locked eyes and knew exactly what the other person was thinking: Tibi. Tibi! The reason it appeals season after season is its ability to harmoniously combine these things that are so often at odds with each other, and this new collection was no exception–with beautifully tailored pants, skirts cut in swaths of structured fabric, sweaters rendered in the perfect shade of “oat milk latte,” and shoes that look like black-tie versions of airline slippers. —Harling

Adam Lippes

Oftentimes fashion shows are either about having fun or trying to solve problem, but rarely both. At the Adam Lippes show this morning—where breakfast and some of the best berries I’ve eaten all winter was served—corporate dressing problems were addressed with playful aplomb. The wrap-around runway, which was the path between tables at the new Verōnika restaurant upstairs at Fotografiska (which apparently has a long reservation waitlist), featured models wearing extra-long flared sleeve lurex tops (the kind you can push up your elbow while you type), the pointiest blazer shoulders possible (that can still fit under your commuter coat), and ruffled shirts peeking out of sweater collars (the plain white shirt’s delightfully weird older sibling). It was a show that answered the oft-ignored but evergreen question: “How can I have fun getting dressed for work?” —Elizabeth

Day Two
PH5

Walking up to the Ph5 presentation, located at the Standard Highline, I was almost blown away, literally, by a freezing wind tunnel on West 13th Street. Maybe appropriate, because I soon entered a warm room with a digital mountainscape as its backdrop and models wandering around in various cold-weather gear, like an incredible recycled boiled wool twinset, a dainty cotton shirt layered under a ski suit, a fresh take on a balaclava, girly socks paired with hiking boots, patchwork cotton puffer jackets, and hemlines with ski slope curves (as Mallory noted in our Fashion Week Slack channel, “the era of gore-tex-chic really is upon us”). Hot cider in clear glasses was served alongside the collection at a bar looking over the Hudson River, and design duo Wei Lin and Mijia Zhang were milling around chatting with everyone, answering questions, catching me taking a selfie with a model in my Ph5 cardigan from FW18. Only part of the collection was on view, but you can see the rest on Vogue.com (and you should, bc it’s goooooood). —Elizabeth

PRISCAVera

In the belly of midtown, a small but elegant library was the backdrop to PRISCAvera’s runway show, which was a mix of grunge and street and intriguingly quiet style. Juxtapositions! I was perched in a balcony section with Sabrina overlooking the scene, where we watched the show’s edgy attendants, who all seemed to hug and know each other. Then, the grand finale! The final circuit of models arranged themselves for display in the library stacks opposite us, all dressed in muted colors accented by small shocks of pink or neon, and without fail–a pair of Nike sneakers. —Amalie

Rag & Bone

At Vesey Studios—a new venue that’s waaaay over on the west side close to the Freedom Tower, but near zero immediate subways, FYI—Rag & Bone showgoers sat in a dark room on risers. Beverages were served in dimly lit kiosks around the perimeter of the space, like at a concert. The lights were extremely low and remained low throughout the entire show, with models illuminated only by spotlights. Sitting next to my seat mate, show beer in hand, I witnessed slouchy sturdy boots paired with slip and long knit dresses, oversized plaid shorts paired with tall boots (you heard it here first!), and sleeve cuffs hanging wayyyyy past the models’ wrists. Looks were cozy and comfy: fair isle knits and flowy ponchos, and my favorite, sheer black tights paired with open toed platforms and … sneakers!! This entire collection said “well-dressed cold-weather commuter-wear” and I’m here for that. —Elizabeth

Monse

Calling all fans of the uneven hemline, still riding the side of the 90s train that was highly inspired by English punk, feeling experimental enough to affix both safety pins and crystals to their tights: I have the fashion show for you! Monse, held on Wall Street at 6pm yday (I’m writing this from 6 a.m. the next day, fyi) had a ton of tartan baked into suiting, lots of mens tweed, a hodgepodge of both those aforementioned safety pins and crystals and Eva Chen, dressed as a #stickofbutter in the front row, was wearing a newsboy cap. —Leandra

Day One
Christian Siriano

The red (actually, pink) carpet leading to my first Christian Siriano runway show was almost more exciting than the main event, seeing as it was loaded with celebs like Heidi Klum, Tan France, Alexa Chung, and Rachel Bilson just rubbing elbows and talking about celeb stuff. The clothes themselves—punk and candy-colored—told me that if you thought the aughts were exempt from the 20-year nostalgia cycle, you’re entirely wrong, but that’s okay because the coup de foudre of the evening was watching Leslie Jones absolutely lose it over Coco Rocha walking in her Siriano couture. —Amalie

Rachel Comey

You gotta picture this scene—we’re at La Mercerie (a swanky-ass restaurant attached to a store that sells the kind of furniture that decorates lofts and park-view apartments), which is directly next to Stadium Goods on Howard and Mercer and a group of no more than 60 people (including Molly Ringwald and Cindy Sherman!!) are seated around six-ish tables when Mx Justin Vivian Bond (a transgender artist and downtown staple) takes the stage, or at least podium, and starts to sing “You’re So Vain.” Then out walk a bunch of fashion looks on models who are also Interesting People in the World, but the show’s not done yet! After the first group of models complete their traipse, an SVP at the Center for Reproductive Rights promptly takes the microphone and first asks us if we like her dress (it’s Rachel Comey), but mostly she’s there to talk about a Supreme Court rally in DC on March 4th, which causes my table to charge into a conversation about abortion rights until Mx JVB comes back out to sing again and show us more clothes (camp socks and boots r the thing, btw, and so many unexpected sparkle trims are peeking out of knitwear; there’s also slightly acid-wash denim, in jumpsuits and pants and jackets, which, duh). Then! Aminatou Sow talks about friendship and it is so heartwarming and she’s wearing kooky glasses that make her look so cool and this fitted checkered Rachel Comey dress from a season’s past. She says, “Some of my best memories have occurred in Rachel’s clothes” and I swear I’ve just fallen in love with her. By this point my table is wrapped in a conversation about the Iowa Caucus and art funding and the trim on a sweater we all just saw and just before the final tableau of models is to show, it becomes so obvious that this is what fashion week 2.0 should be like because at its best, this is what life is like: a bunch of different people, from different lives, with different perspectives, in a room, talking about stuff they care about, in clothes that make them feel strong. —Leandra

Photos via Vogue Runway and Getty Images for NYFW: The Shows

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Staying Out Until 2 A.M. Changed My Perspective on Fashion Week

I stayed out until 2 a.m. on Saturday night, huddled around a coffee table ringed with faint circles of condensation from once-cold glasses of vodka soda, talking with some friends. It was one of the more memorably fun evenings I’ve had in a long time, and it occurred almost exactly nine hours after I had somewhat mournfully declared to Haley: “I’ve finally accepted the fact that I don’t enjoy socializing after sundown.”

We were walking back to my apartment after the Tibi presentation, and I was apprehensive about following a day of fashion show-schlepping with a rare slate of back-to-back parties that I wanted to attend in theory but immediately assumed would drain the last bits of my already-ebbing reserves of energy. The irony that I returned home feeling invigorated instead was a delightful revelation. Not only because I appreciate the opportunity to reckon with evidence that runs contrary to a story I’ve been telling myself about who I am, but also because when I woke up the next morning–despite a slight hangover and an impulse to snooze my alarm–I felt genuinely excited to attend my second day of New York Fashion Week.

Christopher John Rogers SS RTW 2020

It was like being jolted out of a stupor, a perspective born from another story I’ve been telling myself for multiple seasons now: that traditional runway shows are no longer a compelling way to consume fashion. That I would much rather lie in bed and look at photos of the clothes I was seeing on Instagram or Vogue Runway. That doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity, so why do we keep recycling the same tired model? It’s not that these thoughts were suddenly rendered invalid; on the contrary, I still think many collection debuts would be absorbed far more powerfully via an eye-catching wheatpaste campaign or clever social media marketing play instead of a runway show. But just because the runway model isn’t always a thrill doesn’t mean the clothes themselves are stripped of the ability to conjure one.

Tory Burch SS RTW 2020

The same is true, I think, of socializing at night. In general, I might be less peppy than I would be during the day, and I might find it exhausting to make small talk with acquaintances I don’t know very well, and I might think most bars are too noisy, but when the ingredients are right–a second wind, a group of people who make conversation feel easy, a quiet apartment with a soft rug to sit on–I’m reminded of exactly what I love most about spending time out in the world.

Clothes, too, can be a vehicle for this kind of reminder, connecting us to other people while simultaneously prompting us to look inward and examine what we know–or think we know–about ourselves. Runway shows make it easy to overlook this potential that is inherent to fashion. The format is rote, and therefore breeds impatience and cynicism. We sit, huddled, waiting for a spectacle that will be over in less than five minutes, and then on to the next, until it all blends together into something that is ultimately–tragically!–forgettable. Like a meal scarfed too quickly while standing at the kitchen counter.

Today, I tried reflecting on this season’s collections by focusing on the ingredients themselves instead of how and when they were consumed. In many cases, the actual clothes have been excellent. Take the Christopher John Rogers show, for example, wherein all 41 looks made me think to myself, If you’re going to do maximalism in an age of relative austerity, do it like THIS! Rogers makes the kind of garments that don’t just elicit a double-take–they necessitate it. How else would you be able to fully take in the way they move and breathe in space like living organisms? With a thoughtful mix of ostentatious ballgowns and dazzling suits, this collection made it clear that the brand is destined for even greater red carpet acclaim.

Tory Burch, on the other hand, continues to ground New York’s contribution to fashion in strategically rendered wearability. When reviewing the new collection, it’s clear which pieces are likely to become “it” items in the fall, and the fact that there are multiple of them is a testament to the brand’s savvy: leather boots peppered with flowers, knubby knits in colors reminiscent of sugar cookie frosting, and a robe coat with elaborate striped cuffs. In congress, the textures complemented each other in a way that can only be described as “sumptuous.” If I were making a case that clothes can flirt–runway format aside–well then, here is ample testimony.

Brock Collection SS RTW 2020

Then there was Brock, which introduced me to a coat so enchanting I still see it, like a splotch of harsh sunlight, when I close my eyes. It was ankle length on the model so it would probably be nearly floor-length on me (not that I’ve spent multiple minutes imagining myself wearing it…), with a hood and velvet ribbon ties. I also snapped photos of an empire-waist floral dress with layered puff sleeves and a confectionery gown that made me wish I could wear two outfits to my wedding, both of which I’ve revisited since in my camera roll. I find Brock’s consistent commitment to somewhat over-the-top romanticism enormously comforting; it’s a brand that knows exactly what kind of woman it’s making clothes for, which is why even if I’m not that woman right now, I’m still able to effortlessly imagine what it would be like to be her. An effective blueprint for customer acquisition if there ever was one.

I don’t think one affirming experience is going to turn me into a devoted evening extrovert overnight, nor do I think that the quality of certain collections can completely transcend New York Fashion Week’s archaic format, but I’m struck by the power of context, and how easily it can shape perspective. It’s proof of how precarious it is to cement an opinion, especially a cynical one, based on something that can and should evolve. I’d rather keep an open mind–about myself, and about fashion week. All the more chance of being surprised.

Photos via Vogue Runway.

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5 Questions to Ask Yourself Before Getting Back Together With an Ex

My ex and I broke up, the first time, after I discovered he’d been carrying on an email affair. This was senior year of college—we’d been dating since we were freshmen—and when I confronted him, he said he needed to figure out who he was without me. He spent the next few months getting drunk and throwing things off the roof of his house, mostly beer cans, once a pumpkin, launched venomously into a snowbank while I shouted at him through the window. We spent the next four years breaking up again, and again, and again, until we broke up for good when—surprise!—he cheated on me for what became the final time (although I would have taken him back that time, too, if he hadn’t fled our apartment with all his belongings while I was out of town).

All of that is to say: Whether or not we’ve met (hi!), I have strong opinions about whether you should get back together with your ex. I have eight years worth of strong opinions, eight years of self-flagellation, eight years of mental gymnastics performed to justify and excuse so much bad behavior and poor decision-making on both our parts. Breakups are not a bad hair day; they do not just happen. If you’ve undone your relationship, in other words, you didn’t do so by accident.

And yet. The very woman to whom we owe the glorious rat-nest of glamour that is this website got back together with her ex, and rather successfully so. As Leandra rightly says, “every relationship is its own breathing organism,” and so, as much as I’d like to, I can’t dish out slaphappy relationship ultimatums in good conscience. So instead, I’d like to offer some questions that I think are worth posing before you backslide into your ex’s DMs.

1. Are you sure, or are you just heartbroken?

Breakups can be liberating and restorative, but they are almost always sad, and being sad is hard. Very few of us would choose it for ourselves. Sadness is staying out in the cold when there’s a friend waiting by the fire with a warm drink. We’ve evolved to run toward that warmth. The rub? In the case of a breakup, that means running right back to the relationship. The breakup hurts! You want to feel better! Ergo, undo breakup! Getting to the other side of the sadness may take years. In my case, shaking the sad meant therapy, a new city, a cliché tattoo, lots of crying on the subway, and a drastic haircut. So if you’re questioning whether you should get back together, ask yourself: Am I sure I made a mistake, or am I just heartbroken right now? If it’s the latter, make yourself your favorite snack. Drink a glass of water. Call a friend. If you haven’t been outside today, walk around the block, and then keep walking. Let your own two legs carry you a bit further than they could yesterday. Do any number of things that help you lift the veil, and then reevaluate.

2. What would you tell your best friend if they were in the same situation?

While no one can truly know what goes on behind the closed doors of a relationship, it can be helpful to ask yourself what you’d advise your best friend if they were you. Was the breakup a long time coming, or a heat-of-the-moment decision? Are you full of regret, or nurturing a kernel of relief? We treat our friends with far more compassion than we treat ourselves, so if you’d tell your friend to give themselves a chance to breathe through the pain and see how they feel in the morning, maybe you should take your own advice. And if your own friends respond to the breakup with a relieved sigh? Take that response to heart. Your ex may have wonderful qualities, but it’s worth asking why you’re the only one who sees them.

3. What would it take to fix the problems you had—and are both of you willing to try?

I am a vocal supporter of therapy of all stripes, but especially couples’ therapy, which has been a revelation for my marriage. When my ex and I were in the throes of what would become our last breakup, I sought out a therapist for us. She ended up being my therapist, because my ex refused to walk through the door. You’d think that would have been enough, but I was making excuses for him right up until the bitter end. That’s all to say that if your ex seems to want to get back together but is simultaneously unwilling to put in the hard work required to repair the broken parts (or vice versa)—well, that’s an answer in and of itself. On the other hand, if your ex is right there in the trenches with you for the long haul? The advice of a neutral third party has the potential to unlock a new and better way of being together.

4. Have you given the breakup enough breathing room?

If you’re considering getting back together with your ex, give it a week. And then another week. And then one more. Think of it like a 30-day return policy (or maybe even 90): You need some time to shake off the relationship cobwebs before you’re able to see clearly. Honor whatever confluence of feelings and events caused the breakup—and the strength it took to walk away—by taking the time to evaluate whether getting back together feels truly right, or if it just feels easy. Your relationship is not a flash-sale clearance sweater; if you and your ex are both committed to giving it another try, it will still be there when you come to that decision—together, and with the accumulated knowledge and experience won during your time apart.

5. What are you really afraid of?

I still dream about my ex, often. Last night he was renovating an apartment, and as I followed him through the vast space I realized none of his design decisions included me. He was callous and cold, and I knew I would be forever unhappy, and I begged him to let me stay anyway. What becomes clear in these dreams is that I was more afraid of being miserable alone than I was of being miserable together. My desire for a relationship eclipsed my ability to see that we had long outgrown each other. These dreams, I think, are my way of working that out again and again; of trying to help me acquaint myself with loneliness. I spent almost five years ostensibly single before I met my now-husband. I didn’t love being single, but by then I loved myself enough to know that I wouldn’t accept any less than a true partner, a good person, the kind of love I knew I was capable of giving. Letting fear guide your decisions is a way of getting smaller and smaller as a person, until there’s very little of you left at all. The vast unknowable on the other side of your relationship is terrifying, yes, but it can also be brilliant, an aurora borealis of newness and light, tap dance lessons and the weird shoes your ex hated, a solo vacation where you forget your passport on a train only to have it returned by a kind stranger. Maybe your ex will be a part of that life; maybe they won’t. But you’ll be there either way, living, guided by nothing less than your own brave heart.

Graphic by Lorenza Centi.

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NYFW Street Style Day 2: A Reminder That Pants *Might* Be the Best Thing About Winter

Scrolling through this morning’s NYFW street style dispatch, I had one overwhelming reaction: What a great time for pants. As we move through another potentially trendless season, no item of clothing is faring better. This season there are puddle hems walking by cropped trousers, flares stepping behind pocket-adorned utility pants, and highlighter-bright ankles stretching alongside #stickofbutter-ready jeans. Anything goes and everything looks excellent.

As Harling so perfectly explained in yesterday’s first installment, dressing for shows in February is a “negotiation between looking cool and feeling warm.” Today’s recap offers up proof that pants, as well as coats, are the solution to this tricky winter-dressing equation. Captured yesterday on day 2 of NYFW, it’s a delightful reminder of just how fun and versatile winter’s best staple (apologies to boots, turtlenecks, and coats) can be. May you enjoy this panoply of pants as much as I did—and don’t forget to check back in tomorrow for another delicious street style dispatch.

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Photos by Karolina Kaczynska

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NYFW Street Style Day 1: Winter Coat Inspo Galore

The best thing about the season of New York Fashion Week that lands like a snowflake in February every year isn’t necessarily the shows, in my opinion. If you’re thinking she’s going to say it’s the street style, okay fine, you’re not wrong, but that’s not the only thing I’m going to say. It’s the fact that the street style is (by necessity) a negotiation between looking cool and feeling warm. The result is, therefore, daily doses of inspiration to that effect–which is sorely needed at this juncture of winter doldrums.

To hone in on the specifics of cold weather outfit ideating that February street style has to offer, we’re organizing our coverage a little differently this season. You can still expect new batches of street style photos in slideshow form every day, but they’ll be curated according to a “theme” that is intended to be of genuine service in re-greasing the creative wheels of your sartorial brain that may or may not be feeling slightly frosty at the moment.

To kick things off, we’re highlighting all the best WINTER COATS (!!) that graced us yesterday on the backs of chilly show-goers. Our hope is that clicking through the slideshow below will serve as a reminder that it’s possible to pursue utility and a great outfit at the same time, and perhaps dislodge a burst of motivation to that effect. Maybe you have a coat that’s similar to one worn below and you just needed a new way to think about styling it. Maybe you’re in the market for a new winter coat, in which case you can use it as a shopping guide (for that, there’s a handy dandy shopping bar waiting underneath). Regardless, I hope you’ll meet me in the comments to talk about what particulars caught your eye and why.




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Photos by Karolina Kaczynska

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One-Sentence NYFW Reviews Day 3: Tibi, Sandy Liang, Susan Alexandra, and More

Man Repeller’s famous (in niche circles) one-sentence reviews are BACK and better than ever (I predict), so floss your teeth and tie your shoelaces, my elegant mongooses (just Googled and the plural of mongoose is regrettably not “mongeese”). We’ll be whipping up dispatches like they’re the fashion week equivalent of egg whites, occasionally light on actual fashion but perpetually heavy on the spice that is LIFE ITSELF–the emotions, the celebrity sightings, the subway delays, the elaborate snacks, the joy of staring at the back of a familiar head, etcetera! This page will be updated once a day, every morning, with the prior day’s insights and observations, so don’t forget to check back. See you in the comments.

Day Three
Laquan Smith

I would give my left arm to someday possess half the glamour of the Laquan Smith woman. The utter sex appeal of this show!!! Texture, big boots, and bodycon ran amok, or, I guess, catwalked. Strutted. It reminded me of the runway shows of the 90s where the women were so bodied and the walks were so luxe that all you could do was stare slack-jawed. Wish I could have grabbed a pair of quilted puffer boots or metallic pants on the way out as everyone was clearly off to continue their elegant, sexy party and I was off to inhale a bowl of pasta. —Amalie

Ulla Johnson

Ulla Johnson is known for her satin, crotchet, and lace garments, but for me, her show this season was all about the accessories. Long gloves and scrunched knee-high knit socks paired with sandals and corset belts complemented the clothing well and showed the versatility of the designs: wear your floral dress to work with a blazer and then swap it for a corset belt and sexy long gloves on a night out. For my purposes, I’ve now figured out a warm enough way to walk the Williamsburg Bridge in a dress once again: just add a tall knit sock! —Elizabeth

Sandy Liang

The energy at the door of Sandy Liang was somewhat manic–a slew of shivering humans waiting in line to get in, and frenzied publicists scrambling to write people’s seat assignments on notecards as quickly as possible. Once we made our way inside and sat down–on a row of benches inside the lobby of Stuyvesant (a public high school in Tribeca)–it was as if the room let out a collective sigh of contentment, and that’s before we even saw the clothes! Which were good by the way, and markedly different from the brand’s prior collections, erring on the side of pared-down (save for a few eyeball-patterned pieces) and firmly conjuring the realities of an actual woman’s wardrobe instead of simply the runway version of it. I’ve always enjoyed Sandy Liang’s collections, but this one felt like a tangible turning point–a demonstration of her ability to the streamlined mood that is permeating the industry at the moment, but not without sneaking in a little human anatomy while she’s at it. —Harling

R13

WHEW! Fun fact about me: I thought I was a punk in my youth. I wore platform Doc Martens and heavy eyeliner and leather jackets and smoked CIGARETTES (sorry mom!), so I can say with certainty that 2009 Amalie would have flipped her little lid for this R13 runway. And the sweet thing is: I think that tiny punk bird still flutters inside my heart, so as I watched these comically large bowler hats and chunkzilla shoes and oversized jackets that could fit three grown men in them thunder down the runway, I felt alive in a way that I haven’t in a bit. There’s a 50% chance that in 3 years, I return to my roots. I’ll probably be wearing R13. —Amalie

Hellessy

I spent the majority of the Hellessy show looking at the models’ feet, which–before you accuse me of being the pervert that I 100% am–were the style star of the show. There were monochromatic pairings of white or black socks and delicate lace-up sandals corseted over pants (reminiscent of this trend that Harling Ross forecasted back in resort season). The clothes themselves were a field day of silk, velvet, brocade, and tweed all harnessed by effortless designs. Catch me wearing this oversized sweater someday soon, playfully slapping everyone I know with the sleeves. —Amalie

Susan Alexandra

Susan Alexandra’s show invite this year described it as a musical, but even when it opened with a splashy musical number I was still convinced the term was being used loosely. Absolutely incorrect!!! This was a full-on 30-minute original musical worthy of Broadway. Starring a mix of comedians and actors I recognized from her past presentations, it followed a semi-autobiographical story about Susan gathering the courage to open a store in Soho. Damn, I can’t figure out how to explain this without making it sounding dumb, but the truth is it was the coolest and most creative show I’ve seen in the eight fashion weeks I’ve attended. Nobody could stop smiling. The songs are in my head! Fashion week is so often about spectacle, and this was definitely that, but it was also different in that it actually offered more than Instagram fodder (in fact, it didn’t really translate via iPhone at all). It felt almost vintage in that way. The prevailing feeling as everyone walked out was that it couldn’t have happened anywhere but New York. —Haley

Christopher John Rogers

This evening marked my second time sitting in front of a Christopher John Rogers runway, and once again it was evident that this former up-and-comer has fully and completely arrived—as evidenced by his power to put on a show with the kind of qualities I fantasized about before working in the industry: a great soundtrack, literal smoke, fun lighting, clothes so dramatic they make your breath catch in your throat, and a crowd that freely whoops and cheers with every modelesque flourish. And most important of all, nothing felt overwrought, or piled on simply for the sake of a compelling Instagram—it was a genuine expression of joy and artistry, right down to Rogers’ show-stealing final bow. —Harling

Tibi

At the Tibi presentation (which was chock-full of clever references to air travel–from neck rests that double as coat collar decor to airport-branded socks), I ran into the brand’s president Elaine, who started talking to me about the experience of decorating an apartment. “You really have to seek out stuff that’s fun to look out but super practical at the same time,” she said, and we both locked eyes and knew exactly what the other person was thinking: Tibi. Tibi! The reason it appeals season after season is its ability to harmoniously combine these things that are so often at odds with each other, and this new collection was no exception–with beautifully tailored pants, skirts cut in swaths of structured fabric, sweaters rendered in the perfect shade of “oat milk latte,” and shoes that look like black-tie versions of airline slippers. —Harling

Adam Lippes

Oftentimes fashion shows are either about having fun or trying to solve problem, but rarely both. At the Adam Lippes show this morning—where breakfast and some of the best berries I’ve eaten all winter was served—corporate dressing problems were addressed with playful aplomb. The wrap-around runway, which was the path between tables at the new Verōnika restaurant upstairs at Fotografiska (which apparently has a long reservation waitlist), featured models wearing extra-long flared sleeve lurex tops (the kind you can push up your elbow while you type), the pointiest blazer shoulders possible (that can still fit under your commuter coat), and ruffled shirts peeking out of sweater collars (the plain white shirt’s delightfully weird older sibling). It was a show that answered the oft-ignored but evergreen question: “How can I have fun getting dressed for work?” —Elizabeth

Day Two
PH5

Walking up to the Ph5 presentation, located at the Standard Highline, I was almost blown away, literally, by a freezing wind tunnel on West 13th Street. Maybe appropriate, because I soon entered a warm room with a digital mountainscape as its backdrop and models wandering around in various cold-weather gear, like an incredible recycled boiled wool twinset, a dainty cotton shirt layered under a ski suit, a fresh take on a balaclava, girly socks paired with hiking boots, patchwork cotton puffer jackets, and hemlines with ski slope curves (as Mallory noted in our Fashion Week Slack channel, “the era of gore-tex-chic really is upon us”). Hot cider in clear glasses was served alongside the collection at a bar looking over the Hudson River, and design duo Wei Lin and Mijia Zhang were milling around chatting with everyone, answering questions, catching me taking a selfie with a model in my Ph5 cardigan from FW18. Only part of the collection was on view, but you can see the rest on Vogue.com (and you should, bc it’s goooooood). —Elizabeth

PRISCAVera

In the belly of midtown, a small but elegant library was the backdrop to PRISCAvera’s runway show, which was a mix of grunge and street and intriguingly quiet style. Juxtapositions! I was perched in a balcony section with Sabrina overlooking the scene, where we watched the show’s edgy attendants, who all seemed to hug and know each other. Then, the grand finale! The final circuit of models arranged themselves for display in the library stacks opposite us, all dressed in muted colors accented by small shocks of pink or neon, and without fail–a pair of Nike sneakers. —Amalie

Rag & Bone

At Vesey Studios—a new venue that’s waaaay over on the west side close to the Freedom Tower, but near zero immediate subways, FYI—Rag & Bone showgoers sat in a dark room on risers. Beverages were served in dimly lit kiosks around the perimeter of the space, like at a concert. The lights were extremely low and remained low throughout the entire show, with models illuminated only by spotlights. Sitting next to my seat mate, show beer in hand, I witnessed slouchy sturdy boots paired with slip and long knit dresses, oversized plaid shorts paired with tall boots (you heard it here first!), and sleeve cuffs hanging wayyyyy past the models’ wrists. Looks were cozy and comfy: fair isle knits and flowy ponchos, and my favorite, sheer black tights paired with open toed platforms and … sneakers!! This entire collection said “well-dressed cold-weather commuter-wear” and I’m here for that. —Elizabeth

Monse

Calling all fans of the uneven hemline, still riding the side of the 90s train that was highly inspired by English punk, feeling experimental enough to affix both safety pins and crystals to their tights: I have the fashion show for you! Monse, held on Wall Street at 6pm yday (I’m writing this from 6 a.m. the next day, fyi) had a ton of tartan baked into suiting, lots of mens tweed, a hodgepodge of both those aforementioned safety pins and crystals and Eva Chen, dressed as a #stickofbutter in the front row, was wearing a newsboy cap. —Leandra

Day One
Christian Siriano

The red (actually, pink) carpet leading to my first Christian Siriano runway show was almost more exciting than the main event, seeing as it was loaded with celebs like Heidi Klum, Tan France, Alexa Chung, and Rachel Bilson just rubbing elbows and talking about celeb stuff. The clothes themselves—punk and candy-colored—told me that if you thought the aughts were exempt from the 20-year nostalgia cycle, you’re entirely wrong, but that’s okay because the coup de foudre of the evening was watching Leslie Jones absolutely lose it over Coco Rocha walking in her Siriano couture. —Amalie

Rachel Comey

You gotta picture this scene—we’re at La Mercerie (a swanky-ass restaurant attached to a store that sells the kind of furniture that decorates lofts and park-view apartments), which is directly next to Stadium Goods on Howard and Mercer and a group of no more than 60 people (including Molly Ringwald and Cindy Sherman!!) are seated around six-ish tables when Mx Justin Vivian Bond (a transgender artist and downtown staple) takes the stage, or at least podium, and starts to sing “You’re So Vain.” Then out walk a bunch of fashion looks on models who are also Interesting People in the World, but the show’s not done yet! After the first group of models complete their traipse, an SVP at the Center for Reproductive Rights promptly takes the microphone and first asks us if we like her dress (it’s Rachel Comey), but mostly she’s there to talk about a Supreme Court rally in DC on March 4th, which causes my table to charge into a conversation about abortion rights until Mx JVB comes back out to sing again and show us more clothes (camp socks and boots r the thing, btw, and so many unexpected sparkle trims are peeking out of knitwear; there’s also slightly acid-wash denim, in jumpsuits and pants and jackets, which, duh). Then! Aminatou Sow talks about friendship and it is so heartwarming and she’s wearing kooky glasses that make her look so cool and this fitted checkered Rachel Comey dress from a season’s past. She says, “Some of my best memories have occurred in Rachel’s clothes” and I swear I’ve just fallen in love with her. By this point my table is wrapped in a conversation about the Iowa Caucus and art funding and the trim on a sweater we all just saw and just before the final tableau of models is to show, it becomes so obvious that this is what fashion week 2.0 should be like because at its best, this is what life is like: a bunch of different people, from different lives, with different perspectives, in a room, talking about stuff they care about, in clothes that make them feel strong. —Leandra

Photos via Vogue Runway and Getty Images for NYFW: The Shows

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