Leandra Medine's Blog, page 80
September 25, 2019
Why Is Getting Dressed Between Seasons So Awkward? Leandra & Harling Dissect
“What Would You Wear With This?,” heir to the throne of “Should I Buy This?,” is a monthly conversation between Leandra and Harling about the contents of their online shopping carts and the potential outfits that lie within. Come for the clothes, stay for the feelings.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:00 PM Leandra wrote:
Hey! Are you feeling at all like the convos we’ve been having for What Would You Wear With This are a little manufactured and irreflective of our genuine work rapport? Let’s try something else by instead launching this question, which really, I want to know the answer to: What’s on your mind right now as it relates to fashion, or style, or shopping?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:03 PM Harling wrote:
Is it a stretch to theorize that the conversation feels manufactured because my outfits are feeling that way right now? Ha. I’m struggling with how to get dressed because I’m jumping ahead to fall….
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:10 PM Leandra wrote:
Same! I’m always struggling with that this time of year. It’s like… I try to predict exactly what I’m going to want to wear and then start planning into it like I’m an advertising executive trying to get ahead of an upcoming presentation, even though I don’t know what the client wants but I do have an inkling from having worked with them before. So I start road-mapping, but by the time the presentation comes around, the client has explained exactly what they want and the presentation I put together is… useless… I am the client… the presentation is me….
In non-metaphoric terms: I have a habit of buying stuff that I don’t need yet, then by the time I need the stuff, they feel old, or really, they feel like a caricature of what I want to say with my style. So then I get the right thing because the dust has settled and the season is here and I’m certain. This year, I’m trying a new thing where I don’t buy anything. Except these. Maybe.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:21 PM Harling wrote:
Yeah, I overcompensate as soon as the season changes, then try to reinvent the wheel with my wardrobe. I put things together that I’ve never worn before without thinking them through, or ruin outfits I loved the first time I wore them by adding stuff that doesn’t need to be there.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:25 PM Leandra wrote:
AND YOU KNOW WHEN YOU RUIN AN OUTFIT THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM IT. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS RUINED FOREVER.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:33 PM Harling wrote:
It’s true. I can’t un-see the loafers I recently paired with my long-sleeve vintage Austrian crop top from Imparfaite Paris (similar here) and these pale blue creatures of comfort pants (similar here). That outfit that looked so much better when I wore it with sandals last spring.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:45 PM Leandra wrote:
So… call me your wacky woowoo Aunt Sally but I have a theory about what is going on. On the heels of MFW, which Prada owned (I know this is an opinion we share) and you mentioned you loved it because it was trendless (I don’t disagree, but I also think it was mostly just an essentialist version of what it has always been). But broadly speaking, Prada resonated with a much bigger sample size than just the two of us. It is often relevant, but this season, it was really relevant. There’s an essentialist whiff in the air, because culturally speaking, it seems that we’re re-evaluating our relationships to innovation and consumption. And, to bring it back to your wacky and woowoo Aunt Sally, I’d like to guess, with zero context beyond my own mental objects, that this vibe ties back to the stars. I read at the beginning of 2019 that the planet Saturn has relocated to Capricorn and that it’s going to stay there for a little while. Idk how long! And apparently Capricorn is a sign of like, structure and simplicity and quality over quantity. And I really feel like the world is feeling that impact! Or at least my world is. Fashion is the lens I choose to absorb my existence through, and in my lifetime, I haven’t experienced such a profound, macro-level doubling down on essentialism, a trimming of the fat. A reigning in on what’s important and what’s not. Who I am and who I’m not. Locally speaking, it’s hitting me in the closet. And it sounds like it’s hitting you too?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:55 PM Harling wrote:
Oh, it’s hitting me. And it’s strange to experience that while confronting a wardrobe full of florals every morning. I just want to wear black trousers with a super fine-gauge knit top and nondescript loafers and maybe a gold clip-on earring. To be clear, I don’t believe in astrology, but I guess I understand your urge to attribute this shift to something seismic and universal because the pull is strong. Sry Aunt Sal.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 12:59 PM Leandra wrote:
That looks like a pretty accurate depiction of you! I remember you wearing some permutation of that toward the end of last winter. But what are you wearing right now to scratch the itch?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:11 PM Harling wrote:
Glad you asked! I actually landed on a very satisfying-to-wear look last night this dress from COS plus this Barbour jacket plus these loafers.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:14 PM Leandra wrote:
Side note: Snickers bars are basically protein bars, right?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:16 PM Harling wrote:
For context for the reader, I’m just gonna let them know you have, like, four empty wrappers scattered around your laptop right now, which is directly across from me. So glad you’re getting in your daily recommended dose.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:25 PM Leandra wrote:
That outfit you mentioned sounds cute! I’ve been mostly wearing black wash jeans with black or navy sweaters and sandals and then stretching in the way of accessories. I actually find the Repeller earrings much more relevant in the context of a dark winter outfit than I do a lighter fare summer look. But tbh, this transition has reminded me how I have always felt—like it’s not about what you wear so much as it is how you wear it. I’m convinced I could wear the same exact outfit every single day and look different. (As a matter of fact, I challenge myself to try it for a week.) Today, for example, I’m wearing a grey cardigan with light wash denim cut-offs, white socks that hit my shins and a pair of black and white loafers. I wore the same thing on Monday and Tuesday but on Monday I had on my sock shoes, and a big red cashmere scarf over my shoulders. On Tuesday I had on sandals. Today I’m wearing a pearl necklace, a big gold wrap bracelet and a bunch of gold huggies (tiny hoops) in my ears. But, I know what’s coming, so this look feels boooooooooooring. By mid-next month, I’m going for plaid trousers, a rugby, a turquoise necklace, and suede loafers.
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That’s one part of me. The other part is going for black wash jeans, silver sandals, a navy blue sweater, and RHINESTONES IN MY EARS. The nuance is that I’m also wearing a white crew neck t-shirt under the sweater because I need something to break up the darkness.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:30 PM Harling wrote:
See, idk, to me this transition DOES feel like more about what I’m wearing vs. how I’m styling it. My closet literally does not contain the clothes I want to wear. All my hero pieces feel too feminine and my accessories feel too cute. I basically want to wear the same clothes as those featured on the @hommegirls Instagram account but accented with overtly ladylike (which I consider very different from feminine) accessories–grandmotherly stuff like pearls and tortoiseshell barrettes and soft satin purses.
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On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:32 PM Leandra wrote:
What do you think it’s a reaction to? Like is this the-new-you, or the-realized-you that’s always been underneath?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:40 PM Harling wrote:
That’s a good question. I think it’s both. It’s been here in that what’s swirling around in my head is largely a composite of outfits my mom and grandmother have worn. But it’s new in that I don’t feel like I’ve repressed it up until now. I just didn’t feel the urge to identify with it in a definitive, singular way. There was too much other stuff I was interested in experimenting with first.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:44 PM Leandra wrote:
Makes complete sense, but do you think you can tie your identifying with it to, like, coming to terms with being more like your mom or grandmother than previously you believed yourself to be? Or am I reaching—is this a pure function of how fashion is changing?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:49 PM Harling wrote:
It’s definitely a function of how fashion is changing. But even though I’m interested in dressing differently, and know what I like, I’m still stopping short. I don’t quite know how. It’s reminding me of that graduation speech someone gave, where they talk about how your taste evolves faster than your ability to meet it… DO U KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT?
On Sept 20, 2019 at 1:51 PM Leandra wrote:
Ira Glass!
“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take a while. It’s normal to take a while. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”
On Sept 20, 2019 at 2:00 PM Harling wrote:
Yes! THANK YOU.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 2:12 PM Leandra wrote:
But actually, I challenge the notion that the only way to break through the bad taste is to continue making. It is one part of it, no question, but I can’t articulate how valuable it can be to find a mentor or role model, or, really, any model to whom you can aspire. I’m not talking within the context of how to dress, but it seems related because how you dress is reflective of your taste, and your taste informs your style, and your style, you know, is an expression of you, so! Getting your taste where you want it to go is more than just trial and error, it’s trial and output and feedback and error, then more feedback, then modeling, then trial again. But you need this feedback to be coming from someone who you trust, from someone who has a taste level that satisfies a rank you know you’re capable of reaching.
Do you ever feel that way with your clothes? Getting dressed on the heels of fashion week used to be so easy. For weeks, I would just roll into my closet and make these looks and feel like I nailed it every single day. I look back now and realize that’s because I was coming down from a month’s worth of inspiration from venerated members of the fashion establishment—the unlikely but powerfully good style holders that you rarely see in photos but never miss when you’re at a show. To Ira’s point, I saw the good taste, and because of my own taste, or my own pursuit of taste was able to pinpoint exactly what appealed to me and it helped crystallize my own sense of style.
You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about interdependence in my own life, and maybe this is going to take us on a tangent, but I think it’s a relevant one because when we talk about meeting the expectations of our taste levels, we can’t do that in a silo of oneness. It requires a level of trust, and faith, and interdependence on an influence that is bigger than us to help shape the mold. This is not the same as copying the influence! But it is a framework.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 2:21 PM Harling wrote:
I see what you’re saying, but I also think the evolution of personal style is a bit of an outlier because any feedback you’re getting is purely indirect. There’s no third party person who is dissecting your outfit choices in the morning, or annotating them with red ink. It’s only you, and your interpretation of the things you’re seeing and absorbing day in and day out.
There is undoubtedly an influence that is bigger than you that shapes what you desire to wear, but at the end of the day, your perception of that influence is yours alone. And I think that’s where I get overwhelmed, because even though the digital era has allowed personal style to take so many shapes, it’s also made it more difficult to stop throwing spaghetti at the wall and feel like you can wait a beat to see what’s sticking—to really and truly hone in on what speaks to you and why. It takes patience and a great deal of intention. Two things I’m trying to keep in mind right now, especially when it comes to getting dressed, but also in my life more generally. Because it’s so easy to get swept up in the temporary thrill of instant gratification.
On Sept 20, 2019 at 2:22 PM Leandra wrote:
It sounds like you’re ready to take the time to break out of the cycle of trial and error and really dig your feet into the shoes of your style. Sometimes we forget that just because you’re ready doesn’t mean you’re actually there yet. But if you can appreciate that this stage, like any other, isn’t permanent, it can actually be fun to see yourself on the precipice of change without trying to change it for lack of a more efficient word. I guess this is what they mean when they say: “Trust the process.”
But to your final point, Harling Ross, ah, the thrill of instant gratification! What would you wear with these?
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Feature graphic by Dasha Faires.
The post Why Is Getting Dressed Between Seasons So Awkward? Leandra & Harling Dissect appeared first on Man Repeller.
Fall Style Win: Collarless Coats and Big-Ass Totes
There are certain pairings of words that, when strung together on a whim, are clearly predestined to be greater than just a one-off sentence. You can hear it as soon as you speak them out loud, together in one breath. You can feel it in your bones, in your gut, in your marrow, that this isn’t simply language, it’s lyricism. Such was my primal revelation when Leandra lobbed a market story idea in my direction seemingly out of nowhere, a turn of phrase that deserves to be engraved in marble, that rhymes with the fluid ease of a Shakespearean sonnet, and that would irrevocably alter my fall 2019 dressing strategy: collarless coats and big-ass totes.
Random? Only on the surface. Delve deeper, and you will find that collarless coats and big ass totes is more than just exceptionally fun to say–it’s also the perfect strategy for autumnal commute outfits that are both aesthetically pleasurable and highly functional. Allow me to explain:
A collarless coat, though rare (believe me, I scoured the internet), is low-key the best kind of coat there is. Sometimes it’s difficult to explain the innate gratification of a certain visual, like a video of a knife cutting into a poached egg or a swirl of seashells arranged delicately on top of a sun-tanned knee, and a collarless coat is potentially one such thing, but I’ll try. I think it has to do with the unexpectedness of it. Like I said, it’s a rarity in the world of outerwear. Almost every coat has some type of collar, so when you come across one that doesn’t, it stands out.
Furthermore, it allows for a great deal more stylistic fun in the neck region. All of a sudden, your scarf lays flat, or you turtleneck has more room to thrive, unencumbered by competing flaps of fabric (this is especially joyous when the turtleneck is contributing something important to the overall outfit, like a pop of color or jaunty stripe). If you happen to be wearing a necklace, that gets more airtime, too. The overall effect is such that fall’s most practical and thusly occasionally depressing garment, the humble coat, is rendered significantly more interesting.
As for the big-ass totes, well, their utility is obvious: tons of room for schlepping. Their aesthetic appeal is nascent, born from backlash against the mini bag trend which has taken ubiquity to a new extreme, and undoubtedly buoyed by a resurgence in cultural obsession with the Olsen twins’ style circa the early 2000s. Those girls loved themselves a preternaturally enormous bag. Like cool collarless coats, truly big-ass totes that are not only large but also chic are similarly elusive and therefore special.
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Paired together, they form an even more rarefied union, a combination made all the more delicious by virtue of its distinction and the harmony of proportions at play: a coat stripped down to collarless minimalism and a bag that goes on for miles. There are few things more poetic, save for the verse itself: collarless coats and big-ass totes. Say it with me!
12 PHOTOS
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Photographer: Sabrina Santiago
Stylist: Harling Ross
Market: Elizabeth Tamkin
Model: Elki Wideker at WeSpeak
Hair and Makeup Arist:
Gwen Sangchai
Stylist Assistant: Jean Pflum
The post Fall Style Win: Collarless Coats and Big-Ass Totes appeared first on Man Repeller.
I Went to My Mom’s Pole Dancing Class and All I Got Was a Whole New Understanding of Our Relationship
I turned my head, like a deer hearing the release of a hunting rifle’s safety, toward the sound of my mother’s peal of delighted laughter, and then watched as she pulled off her sweatshirt and revealed the bodysuit she had worn for class with its many, many cut-outs.
My mother and I are very close. We could challenge the Gilmore girls to a mother-daughter personal trivia match, trounce them, and keep it moving. Have you ever met someone and thought, Wow, it would be so cool if you were my aunt or, like, my mom’s best friend? That is my mother. She is funny and brash and adventurous. At 65, she started doing stand-up comedy. (The crowd loves it when she does a bit about how much man-buns turn her on.) She called me at midnight a month ago, after getting in from a salsa club, to tell me I simply must learn the tango before I get the family arthritis.
She makes the normal beige world I move through sparkle with mischief, hijinx, magic. That doesn’t mean I always like it.
I adore these aspects of her, but there are times when I have wished that it were all an act, that she could just stop playing this zany character. For example, she once emptied her retirement savings account to buy part ownership of a plane she doesn’t know how to fly instead of helping me pay for college. When I got that call, I wanted to shake my head like an exasperated sitcom character. I wanted a laugh track to play and the credits to roll. I wanted to come back next week with a whole new mess to find our way out of. But this was my real life, and I admit that I spent a week after that call feeling really sorry for myself, wishing for a mom from a different channel.
For better or for worse, my mother is a star that I can’t look away from. She makes the normal beige world I move through sparkle with mischief, hijinx, magic. That doesn’t mean I always like it.
Getting me to unwittingly attend a pole-dancing class with her was just her latest trick.
The Warm-Up
I knew by the way the instructor, whom I will call Kimmie, said, “Squeeee! Annie!! This must be your daughter! I’m so glad you both made it, these classes can be very healing for mothers and daughters!” that Kimmie was not to be trusted. Still, instead of heading for the doors, I chose to stay.
The first 45 minutes of the two-hour class were spent writhing aerobically on yoga mats to a playlist that I would have titled: “The Weeknd, But Make It Fitness.” Kimmie’s instruction came with a constant pep talk that was rhetorically akin to a women’s-only sexual healing ayahuasca ceremony run by an instagram influencer. It was the pep talk that shot me right out of my body and into a kind of dissociative state wherein I watched myself from above, grinding on a yoga mat just feet away from my own human mother.
She was swinging her hair, eyes closed, completely buying into the experience.
It began to feel psychedelically awkward (as in, so unfathomably uncomfortable I felt as if I’d been dosed with LSD and entered another dimension) around the time Kimmie told me my hair was an erotic curtain that I should let drape over my face to give me privacy as I sensually entered myself. She doled out metronomic and affirmatives like this throughout class: “Yes, Megan! Look at that ass. So gorgeous!” and “Yes, Trisha! Oh, Trisha is so sexy, you guys!” She directed us to let our breasts tease the floor as we stretched out in child’s pose to a song that consisted only of rhythmic whispers.
At this point, my fight-or-flight response kicked in and I was about to make a break for it, but then I peered at my mother, perched on the foam roller that Kimmie gave her for her arthritic knees, irreverent and so totally self-possessed. She was swinging her hair, eyes closed, completely buying into the experience. Maybe I am just being a cynical weirdo prude, I thought, deciding to unclench my teeth and attempt to go with it.
The Lap Dance
As soon as the music transitioned to what I imagine was Drake’s 2014 sex playlist, Kimmie called out, “Okay, you beautiful goddesses, it’s time for lap dances!” I felt then that I should have bolted when I had the chance. When I could have mentally preserved some version of my mother that didn’t involve lap dances. I silently asked god to beam me up, because I was ready for heaven, hell, or oblivion. When god did not respond, I obeyed Kimmie.
I dutifully crawled like a sexual cat onto the lap of a nice Russian woman who smelled of blue Powerade.
“We don’t have mirrors here,” Kimmie told us as we settled into a row of seats facing two armchairs that had been dragged into the middle of the studio, “because all of YOU are the mirrors for each other. You are the FE-male gaze gallery.” Translation: Two pairs of us would do the lap dance routine at a time while everyone else watched. My mother volunteered to go first (of course) and she sat in the chair while Kimmie demonstrated the various modes of grinding we would do. Then, in slow motion, I watched Kimmie turn toward me, smiling, and call me up for my turn sitting in the chair so my mother could do the routine atop me. I stood up reflexively, as if being lifted by the intangible winds of fate toward a destiny I could not comprehend. I took a step toward my mother who was waving me on expectantly, and froze. This was the line that I could not cross.
“Kimmie,” I said. “Absolutely not.” To which she replied, “Sure, okay. That makes sense!” And cheerfully reassigned me a non-blood-related partner. I dutifully crawled like a sexual cat onto the lap of a nice Russian woman who smelled of blue Powerade, and heard my mother cheering me on from the female gaze gallery.
By the time the class transitioned into the actual pole dance tutorial, I had entered a kind of fugue state. I remember the remaining portions of the class in the way I remember the end of Inception. Was that a dream? Did I really grip a metal pole between my thighs as my mother told me to arch my back like I meant it? Was Leonardo DiCaprio there?
The Cool Down
After class, my mother and I walked back out onto the Chinatown streets and the comforting, buttery aroma of the fortune cookie factory mixed with a hint of dried fish signaled to me that my tribulations were behind me. I tried to hide my flurry of emotions: shock, of course, and maybe a childish sense of betrayal, like when you come to realize, due to your parents’ carelessness, that the tooth fairy is a hoax. My mother noticed the tense expression on my face, and was almost sheepish when she asked, “Well…what did you think?”
I looked at her then, her face luminous from all that body rolling, and felt a pang of heartbreak. I realized in that moment that even though I had embraced so much of who she was, up until that moment, I still wanted her to be a mother. I still wanted her to be the mom who has a signature lasagna recipe, is a savvy comparative shopper, or would at least be mortified to have her daughter watch her perform a lap dance. But the woman standing in front of me had not changed suddenly, nor had she betrayed me or let me down. She was who she had always been—a fully alive person with a world so much bigger than me and what I know or want of her.
“Mama, you killed it,” I said, grabbing her hand, and she laughed that laugh that has always been my favorite sound.
Graphics by Coco Lashar.
The post I Went to My Mom’s Pole Dancing Class and All I Got Was a Whole New Understanding of Our Relationship appeared first on Man Repeller.
When You Want Kids, But Your Partner Doesn’t
Discussing your desire for kids (or lack thereof) early on in a relationship can feel uncomfortable and premature, but it can get even trickier to navigate down the line. Whether you’re actively considering these decisions or want to, the below story, originally published in June of 2017, offers a few tools to help you do it.
Thirty-three-year-old Olive and her boyfriend dated for two years before they seriously discussed the topic of kids. Sure, there were casual mentions: they joked about moving to an apartment with an extra room; he had made some vague comments that seemed to indicate that one day, he’d want to be a dad. It wasn’t until Olive was diagnosed with PCOS, the most common cause of female infertility, that she began to realize how badly she wanted children. When she had a PCOS-related surgery — one that could make it more challenging, or even impossible, to conceive — she decided to broach the subject.
He did not want children, she learned. She knew that she did. They stayed together because they were happy and in love, but she found herself anxious and unsettled. “I was making excuses rather than doing the adult thing and putting in the hard work to get what I really want.” After six months of trying to make things work, of wrestling with her wants versus his while wondering if she should be the one to change, and of being terrified to raise the issue again lest he give her an answer she didn’t want to hear, Olive finally realized that she’d rather be a mother than stay with her boyfriend. Heartbroken but convicted, she brought it up one last time. His decision was final, and she ended things.
“I was crushed and depressed,” she told me. “This is the person I love, but we are not going in same direction. I really wanted to be honest and prioritize my needs. I’m not 24. I don’t have 10 years to figure this out. I felt like I was cheating myself, and I’m working on being more assertive. I said, ‘We’ve been very clear about what we want. This is not an ultimatum, and I’m not mad. I still love you, but both of us have to choose what we want with our lives.’ It was a really hard thing to ask myself: What’s more important, this relationship and this person, or a family?”
Johanna, a 29-year-old who lives in upstate New York, has known that she does not want children since she was in college. As she’s gotten older and more confident in her decision, she’s found the conversation easier to have.
“I’ve had the ‘kids discussion’ come up on first dates and agreed with the guy during the appetizer course that we could never work long-term. I’ve found that they usually appreciate the honesty.”
The breakups still sting, though. She’d been dating her ex-boyfriend for three months when the topic first came up. He wanted kids and talked about them often: what sports they’d play, how he’d parent. She didn’t, and they agreed it wouldn’t work, so they ended it. “This was my first ‘adult’ relationship where I had to actually weigh the children issue. I moped around for three days after. I had long talks with my mother (who has four children and lives and breathes for us), and decided that I would give having kids consideration if he would take me back. I went over to his place and explained my thinking and change of heart.”
It wasn’t until five months later — and some serious talks about moving to nearby kid-friendly neighborhoods with good school districts — that she realized something wasn’t right. “I couldn’t put my finger on my unhappiness. One day, I realized that I was really wrestling with the thought of having kids. I sat down with my boyfriend to tell him that, once again, my feelings had changed, this time back to my gut feeling of not wanting kids. This was a deal breaker for him, as I knew. We ended things that afternoon.”
A few weeks later, Johanna’s ex told her that he’d thought a lot about it and if it meant staying with her, he’d be okay not having children. “I know that he absolutely wants kids and will be a tremendous father, so I told him that I wouldn’t accept that mindset. I refused to a) rob him of being a father one day and/or b) run the risk of him eventually being spiteful toward me since I was the one who didn’t want kids. I’ve resigned myself that it could take years before I find my childless Prince Charming, especially where I live. Until then, I’m going to have a damn great time hanging out with myself and my kick-ass friends.”
The only thing Johanna would have done differently is have the conversation earlier.
Olive wishes she did it sooner, too. “It’s the worst situation to be madly in love with someone, two years into building a life together, then this. It’s not easy. The months I spent in purgatory before my final decision, when I was too scared to bring it up — I look back at that time and realize it was unnecessarily challenging and miserable. It didn’t have to be like that.”
Monica Parikh, Founder of School of Love NYC and expert dating coach, believes in having this conversation during what she calls “the negotiation phase” of a relationship. This phase takes place about nine months in, after three months of chemical attraction followed by three months of “realizing character defects.” The negotiation phase is “where you figure out if you’re going to be in a long-term partnership.”
If one partner resists, Parikh suggests first finding out the root of the hesitation. Is it about career? Does he or she believe that kids will get in the way? Does one partner worry about shouldering the majority of the caretaking? Is there a way to negotiate or find compromise in these areas? Or is it about fundamental differences? Does someone flat-out not want kids?
The notion that “we’ll figure it out later” is a dangerous one, according to Parikh. There are so many variables that go into making a marriage work and big issues (which include topics like finance sharing, division of labor and sexual expectations) should be addressed early and clearly. Putting off these kinds of conversations to avoid fights or friction causes trouble later on. “You’re either going to have to figure out if your partner can meet your needs, or if you need to get them met somewhere else. You have to really communicate to ensure an alignment of fundamental values.”
Let’s say you’re very much in love with your partner and on a path towards a lifetime commitment. You have had the conversation about kids and it becomes clear that one person wants them and the other does not. Is that a reason to end it? “I think so,” said Parikh. “People who don’t end it have a very romantic and idyllic view of marriage that’s not grounded in reality. Eventually, anger will come out, or resentment. So many pragmatic details have to be right for marriage to succeed. If more people ironed these out sooner, perhaps divorce rates would be lower.”
About three days before my interview with Olive, her ex-boyfriend called her and said that their separation made him rethink things, that maybe he could consider being a father because he wanted to get back together.
“Apparently he’s done some soul searching,” she said. “I don’t know what to think about it yet, mostly because he was so strong in his conviction and hasn’t had that much time to change. It’s only been a couple of weeks. And what does it mean that we had this intense conversation a couple of times and her never ‘really’ considered it? I don’t want to be with someone who ends up making this decision just so they don’t lose me. I want to know that this is a real long-term change.”
“I feel better about myself and where I’m going than I ever had,” she said. “100% better. Friends and colleagues have even commented on it. I genuinely feel different, less anxious. There’s not a giant pit of despair waiting around the corner. It makes going to all my friends’ weddings and baby showers much easier.”
Feature Graphics by Coco Lashar.
Collage graphics by Maria Pitt.
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September 24, 2019
Dip a Toe Into the Poncho Pool With These 5 Styling Ideas
To be perfectly honest, which I always try to be when discussing matters such as torso drapery, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this phenomenon when I first caught a whiff of it last winter. I was intrigued with the prospect of having an alternative form of light outerwear beyond jackets and sweaters, but it was unfamiliar enough territory that I couldn’t envision exploring it myself.
Eager for tutelage, I reached out to my friend Mecca, who in addition to being a professional stylist by trade is also someone whose outfits I frequently admire. She never shies away from a challenge, whether it’s wearing a bra as a top or black-tie swimwear. If anyone could make a case for incorporating ponchos and pashminas into wardrobes worldwide, I knew it was her. Scroll down for a very compelling demonstration.
Lesson No.1: Add a belt for definition…
One of the most common fears associated with wearing a poncho or poncho-adjacent garments is their propensity for shapelessness. While wearing what is essentially a blanket with a hole for a head is extremely cozy, it can produce a tricky human-to-fabric ratio as a result. Mecca’s solve for waist definition? A belt! Plus, wearing a dress underneath that was the same length as the poncho over it, thus creating a streamlined effect.
Or fully embrace the distinctive proportions…
When wearing a more traditional, oversize, asymmetrical poncho, Mecca recommends leaning in fully and embracing the silhouette by playing it up with more form-fitting pieces underneath: “This poncho/I mean blanket/I mean sleeping bag was hands down a fave,” she explained over email. “I let go of the need for definition, and added a killer boot to give me the perfect ‘I’m that bitch’ touch! It was fun.”
Borrow your grandmother’s brooch…
Pashminas, spotted recently at 3.1 Phillip Lim and Mansur Gavriel during New York Fashion Week, are notably beloved by grandmothers (mine included), so I was very much on board when Mecca leaned into that identity with her styling approach, pairing one with the refined combination of a silk blouse and a brooch that I someday aspire to wear on a regular basis when I’m in my 80s–but ideally sooner. For footwear, she decided to go with sneakers, reminding me how much I enjoy the contrast of sophisticated on top vs. casual on the bottom (doubly reinforced by her slouchy leather trousers).
I also love how she wore the pashmina like a Miss Congeniality sash–further proof of their versatility (and Mecca’s genius) since this particular technique isn’t even mentioned in the eight suggestions that come up when I type in “how to wear a pashmina.” But that hyperlink is worth checking out regardless, just in case you’re thirsting for more draping ideas.
Trust Me, Try It: A Surprise Wrap Skirt Layer
“I had this idea to utilize a wrap skirt as the framework of the look,” Mecca explained. “I have the front side of the poncho tucked in and the back free as a bird to sail through these NYC streets.” The result was probably my favorite look of the bunch because it was by far the most creative and something I would never think of myself. A wrap skirt! Tied around a poncho! Truly a revelation.
Feeling non-committal? Get creative with an oversized scarf…
If you want to dabble in the poncho trend without actually going out and buying a poncho, Mecca has a hack for that, too: wrap a big, oversized scarf around your shoulders and belt it at the middle with enough fabric bunched at the front that it conceals the opening. Perfect for my fellow aspirational pigs-in-a-blanket who fantasize about the elusive possibility of swaddling themselves 24/7 whilst still retaining a sense of personal style.
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What are your thoughts on the poncho/pashmina trend? Tell me! I must know.
Photos by Sabrina Santiago.
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The Man Repeller Review of Books: We’re Going to the Movies!
Welcome to the Man Repeller Review of Books, inspired by our wild and well-attended Google spreadsheet, where we burrow into the virtual reading nook of our website and talk books. The format is bound to shapeshift, while the objective remains the same: to broaden the horizons of our reading queues and to consider books we might not have heard of otherwise by sharing both our recommendations and modes of discovery.
As you will soon find out, my recommendations this month point you in the direction of the closest cinema. This is for a convergence of personal reasons: a spell of serial television fatigue (why don’t I watch more movies? They’re a more compact and efficient experience! There are so many classics I haven’t seen and need to actively seek out beyond the usual streaming services!), the still-fresh grief over the closure of my two favorite New York theaters (the Paris and the Beekman), and my intrigue with journalist Jessica Pressler’s adaptation-friendly work. For the uninitiated, Hustlers is based on Pressler’s terrific reportage for New York Magazine, Shonda Rhimes is interpreting Pressler’s Anna Delvey masterpiece for Netflix, and now I’m left wondering if someone will option the rights to her incredible story on the class riot at Brooklyn’s oldest nursery school. And then there’s the near-universal question of whether I should let myself bask in my genre of choice (show biz lit, it seems) or make a concerted effort to dabble. I’ll have to hash that out next month, but in the meantime, below are a few titles I’d put in lights on my literary marquee.
The Final Word on Jia’s Book of Essays
Let’s dive in with a brisk follow-up on Trick Mirror. The tautness of this original essay collection transitions from loose to airtight, like a sealed bag of Doritos over the course of a cross-country flight, as Jia Tolentino excavates each compartment of her life (her experiences of literature, of religion, of Barre class, of drugs, of Greek life, of matrimony) for instances of self-delusion. Over the course of each piece, her arguments become so convincing you almost forget you can disagree with them. Standouts for me included “The Story of a Generation in Seven Scams,” which lays bare certain staples entrenched in our society and how these establishments’ negative ripple effects were inherent from the start, followed by a piece examining the author’s alma mater, the University of Virginia, that left my stomach turned for days, and a final zinger of an essay, “I Thee Dread,” which studies the unquestioning inheritance of antiquated marriage rituals, and which most aggressively chipped away at my own self-delusions in ways both illuminating and distressing.
Maybe this will make you want to buy the book; maybe it will make you want to run for the hills.
If you’ve closed the loop on Trick Mirror but haven’t sated your Tolentino fix, she wrote the introduction to a new Modern Library edition of Edith Wharton’s The Custom of the Country. If you’re interested only in dressing like the cover of Trick Mirror, I recommend my summer uniform of this platonic-ideal-of-yellow Entireworld sweater and this orange creamsicle of a neck scarf. Open to your suggestions re: the missing magenta flourish and the book jacket’s signature twinkle, a parallelogram of reflective glare.
And Now For Something Completely Different
Finally, a book no one has been hyping in the last decade. The Conversations: Walter Murch and the Art of Editing Film by Michael Ondaatje entered my awareness when my grandfather pressed it into my palm while I was studying film at art school. Like any good student, I then waited six years to read it.
But you don’t need to treat this book like a bottle of wine—you can enjoy it now. Ondaatje, the Canadian-Sri Lankan writer maybe best known for authoring The English Patient, encountered film editor and sound designer Walter Murch when they worked together on the film adaptation of Ondaatje’s aforementioned novel. Intrigued by Murch’s approach to his craft (which has earned him three Academy Awards), Ondaatje then arranged a series of five conversations with Murch which would amount to this book, published in 2002. While the topic may read as niche, these interviews lift the scrim off of a fairly opaque, near-surgical vocation and reveal its commonalities with other disciplines, like writing prose—a point made evident when Murch and Ondaatje discuss how so many works of art are sculpted in their editing. This is then illustrated by an (astounding) diptych juxtaposing the first and last drafts of Elizabeth Bishop’s poem entitled “One Art.”
Read this book if you care to learn about: the early, scrappy days of filmmaking in Francis Ford Coppola’s and George Lucas’ inner circle; how saying certain consonants prompts us to blink and how film editors consider those blinks as cues to cut to the next shot; how a sophisticated editor places stirring music in a movie only after the emotion has been pent up and earned; the idea that film might one day have its own notational language in the same way western musical notation was developed long after music’s inception; how film editors’ dreams adopt the cadence of their work; or how Orson Welles began memos to editors working on his films’ post-production (passive aggressively, like: “I assume that the music now backing the opening sequence of the picture is temporary…”).
A Map for Those Who Lost the Plot
I spotted Screenplay by Syd Field, a bestselling instruction manual on the craft of screenwriting, on a bookshelf during my August vacation. Interrupting my scheduled queue in the spirit of spontaneity, I knew that this site-specific option would require me to finish it before my vacation’s end. I happened to include a photo of this book on the shelves of LA’s Skylight Books in last month’s Man Repeller Review of Books, so a degree of kismet attracted me to it.
Screenplay is a how-to book, and an irritatingly repetitive one at that, but it does successfully drill its tenets into you. I suggest it for any writer who is plot-phobic: this slim read will make plot feel exponentially more approachable whether or not your work is intended for the screen. With clear visual tables and charts illustrating what he considers an indestructible narrative arc structure, Field eases you into the hot tub of plot points and twists. I read the 1994 version which touts tips on how to write with a computer (which was, as I learned, a maddening, clunky process requiring much machinery and many a software update), though the book has since been updated in a sexier, colorblocked 2005 release.
A few more books are getting fast-tracked to the top of my list:
Went from feeling ambivalent about reading How To Do Nothing by Jenny Odell to being in desperate need of inhaling her wisdom posthaste. Same goes for Uncanny Valley by Anna Wiener (a memoir from the heart of startup culture in San Francisco).
A friend keeps sending me excerpts of Four Friends by William D. Cohan—it turns out this is a very good method to employ when you want someone to read a particular book.
Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys has spent most of the summer on the New York Times bestseller list for a reason, and the enthusiasm for Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women is contagious.
The novel Valerie by Swedish writer Sara Stridsberg was longlisted for this year’s Man Booker prize: It reimagines the life of Valerie Solanos, the radical feminist who attempted to assassinate Andy Warhol. Sounds polarizing and bleak and gripping.
….plus, the possibilities feel endless now that these heroic librarians are widening the offerings of the public domain: I’ve downloaded a bunch of Wharton, Brontë and Austen classics I missed.
Should I read This Is Not A T-Shirt by Bobby Hundreds??? A most Salingerish cover.
Curious to hear about the highlights of your summer reading—please include recs below!
Graphic by Edith Young.
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Unconventional Life Hack: Treat Your Meds Like Dessert
When I was little, I took pills when I was sick, and then there would be an end to the pills, just as there was an end to the infection, the flu, the pink eye. The prescriptions didn’t refill. This is many people’s first experience with medication. It follows, then, that we’d associate taking pills with not being healthy, and being healthy with not needing pills. At least I did.
Two years ago, I went from taking no pills to taking four pills a day in a short period of time. While I logically understood I needed the meds—for depression, for HIV prevention, to keep my hair—they still posed an existential threat every morning. My groggy head would see my handful of pills and think, Damn, how sick am I?
When I was prescribed the fourth pill, I sought out a pill organizer with S, M, T, W, T, F, S printed large across the compartments and placed it gingerly aside my sunscreen. Inexplicably, this cheered me. For two weeks, I filled the seven compartments on Sunday evenings like a wise self-care fairy, a little thrilled by my ability to buy something to ease my transition, like fresh pencils in September. So simple!
Soon, though, the novelty wore off. I started forgetting to fill my case, or letting my prescriptions run out. For a while I had all four running out at different times, bringing me to the pharmacy once a week. All of it was exhausting.
Waking up on the Wrong Side of Your Head
It wasn’t the pills’ fault, really. My mornings are chaotic because my sleep cycle is chaotic. There is no typical morning for a depressed person. I have alarms blaring, I’m melatonin-hungover, I need energy drinks. I get sucked into Twitter or a phone game or fall asleep again. I spend too much time getting dressed. I sink into a self-hate whirlpool then slowly ease myself out. I have new, blue mascara to apply. These steps sound trivial because they are, but they’re also genuine grasps at the notion of “Feeling Good,” which I have covered in proverbial claw marks but never quite held onto. Of course my pills became a burden. I couldn’t be trusted with routine. Or so I thought.
Then I put jelly beans in my pill case.
It began as dramatic acting out—I was cranky and pissed and convinced myself that no person had ever taken more pills than me (even though many of my friends had been for years with, I assumed, endless grace). I swallowed my four, chased them with an energy drink, then downed a handful of nearby peanut m&ms and a tic tac. I took a single ibuprofen that I didn’t even need—just really unbridled shit, ya know?
Looking for more pill-shaped props, I found some jelly beans and began adding them to each compartment of my organizer like a harried pill monger. There! Now I had even more oblong depression beans to eat in the morning. That would show… me? I closed the pill container and began schlepping my infinite burden out and downhill to work.
When I got home that evening and saw my converted pill case x candy dish, I laughed at my sidelong protest. I believe my words were, “Wow, bitch.” And then the colors caught my eye.
Before, my #PillPalette had been nice and desert-y (“The Sedona,” I called it). But it was still decidedly medical-looking. Serious-looking. The jelly beans added lemon lime, safety orange, Easter tie-dye, and other obviously synthetic and joyful colors. They looked absurd. Silly. And I really needed some silly.
The next morning, I was a tornado again. It was Wednesday, but when I hovered over the “W” compartment of my pill case, it was empty. Had I taken my pills already and forgotten? Or had I fucked up my dosing? I spiraled for minutes, wondering if I should risk double-dosing, certain this was more evidence I was a fuck-up. Then I tasted key lime pie on my tongue—key-lime pie!—and realized I’d already had my meds that morning, along with the jelly beans in their compartment. Realizing that I was not a fuck-up but, instead, very on top of things, was alarming. But I handled it with aplomb.
Self-Care(lessness)
“Self-care” has been co-opted by Big Beauty to make us think getting wine-drunk and exfoliating every other night will make us terrifyingly beautiful magazine execs. But that only works, like, once a month. Two lines from Daniel Mallory Ortberg’s all-caps listicle “WHY ARE YOU LONELY: A TEXT GAME” often run through my head:
“-WATCHED NETFLIX FOR SEVEN HOURS INSTEAD OF SLEEPING BECAUSE YOU HAVE ONCE AGAIN MISTAKEN INERTIA FOR REST”
“-CONFUSED ‘SELF-CARE’ WITH ‘SELF-INDULGENCE’ AGAIN; YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF EXPERIENCING GENUINE REFRESHMENT OR RESTORATION BUT YOU DO SPEND A LOT OF MONEY AT NAIL SALONS”
I’m learning that real self-care, for me, is about coloring outside the lines to create a routine that sustains my health and wellbeing. One that feels flexible enough to work for me, clear enough to be held firm, and weird enough to make me laugh. Implementing my own system of rules, rewards, and silliness has made my forms of self-care feel as empowering as I know they are.
Months later, I’m still adding weird shit to my pill box: a starburst, a sticker or two, uncountable jelly beans. I used to be afraid of my pills because their prescriptions didn’t end. I don’t know if the depression will wane or my sex life will become more predictable. I will likely be taking pills every day for the rest of my life. It’s taken a while for that to sink in, but I know now that I can’t be afraid of medication. I can’t deprive my current self of what I need simply because my past selves didn’t need it. And I won’t, even if I have to be unconventional to get there.
If you are grappling with depression, you aren’t alone, even if your brain tells you that you are. There are a lot of resources to help you out. My favorite is the therapist search engine on PsychologyToday.com. You can filter by your insurance type and specialty. You can also call 1-866-306-8458, a free and anonymous depression hotline, and talk to stranger whom you never, ever have to speak to again. I would also personally recommend reading young adult novels, selecting one stupid phone game to fall in love with (I hear Two Dots is very good), and taking some kind of weekly yoga or dance class that’s close to your house and makes you move a little. But those are just things that help me and a few of my friends along—we are all different. Take care of yourself. We need you.
Graphics by Coco Lashar.
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You Look Moist: An Editorial Assistant Who Swears by Regular Facial Massage
Welcome to You Look Moist, a regular column wherein Man Repeller asks cool people with glowing visages how they achieved their supreme hydration (amongst other things). Today’s installment features Yin Fung, an editorial assistant at Elle in the Netherlands.
How would you describe your skin?
I am fortunate to have skin that isn’t too temperamental, and I don’t break out often. I also don’t have any wrinkles yet, even though I am in my 30s now (my friends often say that’s because I am Asian, but trust me, I know that’s not a guarantee).
How would you describe your skincare approach in general?
I would say my skincare approach is somewhere between high-maintenance and low-maintenance. So medium-maintenance! I have NEVER gone to bed without cleaning my face, even at festivals or times when I got home at 9:00 a.m. after crazy parties. It’s my number one rule, no matter how tired I am.
My typical routine involves a cleanser (Nuxe Melting Cleansing Gel), a serum or moisturizer (right now I’m loving Dr. Organic Black Pearl Moisturizer), day/night cream (both from Cien), eye cream (Dr. Organic), face oil (Gadija Organics Argan Oil) and sunscreen (Glossier Invisible Shield). Once a week, I use a sheet mask (I have a bunch from different Korean brands) together with my boyfriend, haha.
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I try to go to the beautician for a 30-euro facial every three months–nothing fancy, just a deep cleanse treatment. I started getting facials when I was 21, and I truly believe that my consistent visits are the reason my skin is so healthy now. I highly recommend this to everyone.
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A post shared by Yin Fung 馮慧賢 (@yin.stagram) on Jun 27, 2019 at 9:46am PDT
What skincare products are integral to your routine for achieving your ideal, glowing, well-moisturized complexion, and how/when do you use each of them?
Every morning and evening, I do a facial massage after applying all my creams. I am quite strict about it, because I read that it increases circulation to the facial tissue, and I’ve definitely noticed a difference. If you’re trying it for the first time, I would suggest checking out some of the tutorials on YouTube.
I am obsessed with facial oils. A lot of people are scared to use them because they think it will make them greasy, but oftentimes your face only gets greasy in the first place because it’s dehydrated and overcompensating. I use an oil day and night, even during the summer. This Argan oil is the best, I swear!
Sunscreen is my other best friend. I use the one from Glossier because I’ve found that it doesn’t cause pimples. Growing up, I was self-conscious about my skin tone since it’s on the darker side for a Chinese person. My twin sister Summie has porcelain white skin, just the way most Asians like it, so growing up my family would always call me “haak moei” (“dark girl,” a.k.a. not that beautiful) and my sister “paak moei” (“white girl,” a.k.a. perfect). Now I totally embrace how I look! But I still use sunscreen for overall skin health.
Foreo Luna is also a favorite product. It vibrates all the dirt out of your skin and it massages at the same time. I use it after applying the cleansing gel. I also use a jade roller to massage my face while I watch TV. (I just realized I keep repeating the word “massage,” so it must be a big part of my routine.)
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What about makeup products?
When it comes to makeup, I’m quite low-maintenance, but I love red lips. They’re my signature! When I feel a bit moody or my face looks wan, lipstick is a lifesaver–I wear it so much that when I am not wearing lipstick, people ask me if I’m sick. My current favorite is from Chanel–Rouge Allure Velvet Extreme / 114 epitome. Other than that, I also occasionally use Dior Nude Tan highlighter, Chanel blush, and Aqua Brow by Makeup Forever.
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A post shared by Yin Fung 馮慧賢 (@yin.stagram) on Mar 14, 2019 at 11:19am PDT
What’s the cheapest product you use regularly and love?
Cien Cellular Beauty Cream, from the Dutch/German supermarket Lidl. It cost only 4 euros! I read some articles that it has the same ingredients as La Prairie Cellular Radiance Cream, so I was very curious to try it. I’ve never used La Prairie, so I can’t fully compare, but I really love it and use it day and night. The consistency is pretty rich, so I would only recommend it if you have dry skin.
Is there anything you try to avoid, skin-care or makeup-wise?
Black eye makeup. I just don’t look good with smokey eyes.
Any next-level tips, tricks, or services that you swear by to help you look “lit from within”
I try to sleep 8-9 hours a night and go to yoga twice a week. I also don’t drink alcohol and try to avoid stress…when possible.
What’s your go-to product or trick for fixing a skin disaster?
Just leave it alone, otherwise it will get worse.
Do you do anything differently skincare-wise when you travel?
During flights, I always reapply facial oil, and when I’m traveling I use Kiehl’s Ultra Facial Cream. It helps my skin to rebalance after changes in environment.
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What’s something you wish your teenage self knew about taking care of your skin?
As a teenager, I already knew how important it was to wash my face before bed and keep it hydrated. I guess I was a wise teenager, haha!
Photos provided by Yin Fung.
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September 23, 2019
Open Thread: What Does Wellness Mean to You Right Now?
A lot has been said about wellness—and the practices and products that surround it—in the last few years, but, for me, the most interesting aspect of the movement has been how uniquely it can be defined. Even the most wellness-obsessed can define “being well” in vastly different ways, and on the other end of the spectrum, many people are reluctant to use the term to refer to the habits and choices that keep them feeling whole. The movement and industry are both complicated, and the conversations around them can be powerful.
I’ll be talking more about the complexities of wellness at Man Repeller HQ this Thursday, as part of our Good Evening event series. I’m moderating a panel of three women who have made wellness a large part of their everyday lives and careers. Before the event (you can get tickets to it here), I wanted to start a conversation about wellness and the different relationships we have with it. So I asked the panelists, Bianca Valle, Sara Elise, and Tara Aura to kick off the conversation by sharing how they define wellness. Here’s hoping your inspired to share your own.
“Wellness is about anything that adds a pep to your step, clears your mind, and keeps you feeling optimistic every day.”
Bianca Valle, Certified Holistic Nutritionist
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Is It Just Me, or Was Everyone Dressing Like Their On-Screen Characters at the Emmys?
As I watched Gwendoline Christie walk down the red carpet last night, for a moment I wasn’t sure if I was watching the 71st Primetime Emmy Awards or a much-requested remake of the Game of Thrones series finale. The actress was wearing a Gucci gown-cum-cape ensemble that literally looked like something her character would wear to a fancy dress ball in Westeros if she weren’t otherwise occupied with more pressing matters like defending humankind from blue-eyed monsters and hooking up with Jaime Lannister. I would have chalked up the move to Christie’s overall swagger (initially exemplified by her decision to nominate herself for an Emmy award when she found out HBO wasn’t going to), but as I observed more outfits throughout the evening, I realized she wasn’t the only person whose look was inspired by her on-screen self.
Jameela Jamil looked unmistakably Tahani-esque in her sea foam green Monique Lhullier gown and matching clutch. The princess vibes and old-school glamour were extremely on-brand for her fictional counterpart in The Good Place, whom I could easily envision wearing the same thing to grab coffee in the morning or lounge around on the couch while making dramatic statements. In the aforementioned clutch, she reportedly carried a tube of lipstick, a cellphone, and an unopened string cheese. Since I’m not sure how Tahani feels about string cheese but could make an educated guess, I suppose you could say that single item was what tied the outfit to reality (as opposed to a made-up world where there are robots named Janet).
Sarah Snook was also giving me major on-screen alter ego energy in a buttery ensemble from Irwin Garden that looked like it was plucked straight from Shiv Roy’s wardrobe on Succession. As Edith explained in her ode to Shiv’s personal style, the character gravitates toward “a trifecta of a warm terracotta palette, supple textures and high-waisted, wide-legged, long-sleeved silhouettes.” In other words, she seems to be an ardent fan of neutral hues and sophisticated, precise tailoring, which is exactly how you might describe Snook’s red carpet ensemble. We may never know which came first, the chicken or the egg, the style proclivities of Sarah or Shiv, but it’s fun to speculate.
Likewise, Cookie Ly–I mean Taraji P. Henson–told Variety that she felt “like cotton candy” in her unmissable pink and red dress from Vera Wang. The full effect of the gown was visible only when she spread her arms out à la a bird in flight, showing off the wingspan of her translucent chiffon cape. If you glance at a lineup of Henson’s past Emmys ensembles, it’s clear that she has gradually started dressing more and more like her Empire character, with yesterday’s look being the most resplendently Cookie-adjacent to date.
At HBO’s Emmys after party, Alexa Demie, who plays Maddy on Euphoria, wore a skin-tight black dress that fanned out with sheer, dramatic flare. I haven’t been able to determine what designer it is (at this point the number of Alexa Demie-related keywords I’ve typed into Google are bordering on the absurd), but it was basically a black-tie version of the two-piece outfit Maddy wears to the carnival in episode 4 of the series–less midriff, more bling. Her dramatically winged eyeliner was also reminiscent of her character’s penchant for statement eye makeup.
There are numerous plausible explanations for why these 3-D women dressed like their 2-D selves on the red carpet last night. On the one hand, it could be professionally strategic. The more acutely actors are able to embody their characters, on-screen and off, the more their performances and their shows will remain embedded at the forefront of popular culture. The more memes will be generated and press mentions (this very story being a perfect example) will be written up. On the other hand, it’s an excuse to have some much-needed red carpet fun, to share a wink and a nod with fans and audience members who love the characters they play and the things they wear. Because when else are you going to have the chance to put on a gown-cum-cape that sits somewhere between period costume and Jesus attire and avoid the inevitable Halloween joke? Carpe diem, I say.
Photos via Getty Images.
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