IS THE Y2K PARTYWEAR REVIVAL (FINALLY) OVER?

Looks like we’re in need of some quiet time

Greetings reader, and welcome…

Jumping right into some recent aesthetic thoughts as there’s no time like the present to publicly unpack one’s weary, Instagram-addled brain. 

Does anyone else feel like fashion has been squawking at us like an overtired toddler on a sugar high for the past 2.5 years? 

After seeing the recent Autumn/Winter collections a few weeks ago, sartorial hope sprung a leak. Looks like the candy comedown is upon us and I could not be more ready for some quiet time.

The fall collections showed designers were moving away from the pervading knickers out, midriff baring, logos-on, Paris Hilton-dancing-on-a-table in 2001, post-Covid mood towards something a little more complex and sophisticated: a woman who puts cool-headed thought into the art of getting dressed. Everyone’s been going on about “Quiet Luxury” in the past few weeks. I guess we could call it that. I saw the new collections more as outfits that felt finished rather than flimsy. This newly polished vibe is not negating sexiness or joy — it’s just of a different genre. The '80s power suits at Saint Laurent. Prada’s miniskirts paired with perfect round-neck knitwear. Sleek 1950s shapes at Bottega Veneta. Gloves and sensible kitten heels at The Row. Etc. Elegant, yes. But still kinda hot albeit in a more covert way. Even Rihanna, harbinger of style, is marking her second pregnancy with a more mysteriously sensual approach to her first.

And it’s all deeply refreshing as far as I’m concerned. I admit I had begun feeling very bored with recent seasons’ showings. Not only because the news cycle is constantly (and rightly) banging us over the head with the fact that our indulgence in endlessly-updated personal adornment is one of the largest contributors to the potentially imminent end of humanity, but also because the prevalent trend – that of Gen Z-led, Y2K-inspired “partywear” – absolutely did not speak to me.

Don’t get me wrong. I love parties. I believe in them as much as Samantha Jones. In fact, as an extrovert, the government-mandated isolation of the pandemic was seriously challenging for me. I was happier than anyone to get back to socialising. And, as the world began to open up, I could understand the collective urge to, as Christian Cowan put it in a NY Times Style article, "feel hot, even full of ourselves". But if I'm honest, the baby pink and soft purple-leaning, transparent, bejewelled outfits and pointless, fit-nothing micro bags with (let’s face it) cheap-looking hardware vibe of the past two years made me want to keep my migraine meds on hand 24/7 in my beaten up bucket bag. Do bare midriffs really equal liberation? Can garish colour-ways really spark joy long-term? It was too much for me, aesthetically speaking. Even Samantha would have tempered a sexy dress with a more sophisticated choice of heels and bag.

So does all this make me a bad feminist? I've always subscribed to the theory that women should be able to wear what they want without fear of rebuke or recourse. But then I've also struggled with what fashion’s recent obsession with Y2K dressing implies for us culturally, given the early noughties were a much less enlightened environment (and that's putting it mildly) for women. MeToo hadn’t come near happening yet. Monica Lewinsky was still being mocked mercilessly. Skinniness was still close to godliness –- another unfortunate revival. It's easy to argue that fashion’s recent obsession with the aesthetic was probably taking a semi-ironic approach to the whole thing, but I would argue the trouble also lies in the way this kind of trend is interpreted outside the fashion bubble. What about the people who don’t get the irony? The guy perving on you in the metro. The young woman who internalises the need to be rail thin enough to have every inch of her body on display in public. 

What I’m saying is: Is the belly-baring, low-rise, glittery butterfly-adorned variety of femininity really the kind you want to wear? To reveal? To express?

And before you go accusing me of internalised misogyny let's be clear: 1) I’d feel the same way about a dude or non-binary person wearing a disposable piece of dental floss, and 2) You can dance and drink and shag and spend your own money and take over the world day and night in an outfit that suggests something that leaves a tad more to the imagination. And one which, a couple seasons from now, you’ll still feel was worth the dry-cleaning bill.

And a little mystery, I believe, is a key ingredient of style. As Rachel Tashjian writes in her brilliant Harper’s Bazaar piece exploring the true meaning of chic : “this is a woman living her life and living it well. We don’t know what she knows. We don’t know where she’s been or even where she’s going.”, this kind of taste, Tashijan suggests, is often acquired with experience, and “these kinds of questions and secrets and realities make being a woman exciting; they give us privacy and make our inner lives so rich.” 

So goodbye to all that. I’m not sad to see it go. I’m happy to favour the deliciously sophisticated pieces seen in the recent shows. To think longer-term before purchasing. Fear not, party person, the rest of the 20s will still roar just as loudly, even if you invest in clothes you’ll keep well into the 30s and 40s. 

Here are the looks currently squatting rent-free in my cerebellum…

Above and below: Prada AW23 via Tagwalk

Below: The Row SS23 via Tagwalk

And below, Saint-Laurent AW23 via Tagwalk

Quick scramble through my (pre-existent wardrobe), featuring several pieces from Loulou Studio’s excellent new collection, et voila, my late April wardrobe…

White skirt: Loulou Studio Paris, grey sweater Uniqlo, Falke socks, shoes Mirae.

Red suede skirt: Loulou Studio Paris, Uniqlo navy cardigan, shoes by Emme Parsons.

Waistcoat and trousers by Loulou Studio Paris, shoes by Soeur, American Vintage T-shirt.

Closed Official leather skirt from a few seasons ago, Mango tank top, old Brunello Cucinelli blazer, Mirae Paris shoes, APC bag.

Rings by Viltier.

And finally, my recs of the week…

READ: Rodham by Curtis Sittenfeld 

Speaking of Bill Clinton lol. This book pushes fiction into some pretty uncharted territory, imagining Hillary’s life (and career) if she’d come to terms with Bill’s more toxic traits and fled the coop instead of marrying him. It reads like part hilariously sexy fan-fiction, part meticulously researched political 'what if?'. So unique that I am compelled to recommend it to HC lovers and haters alike. I listened to the audiobook on Audible.

After Rodham I immediately picked up Sittenfeld’s new book, Romantic Comedy. I’ll let you know how I get on but something tells me it’s two for two.

NEED: Lamp by Bien Paris 

Handmade from paper, plant-based flour and plaster of Paris by an independent artisan in the South of France, these lamps are as respectfully made as they are lovely to look at. The design is both remarkable and timeless. At 285 euros, the price is not bad either for a piece that will add interest to your space. 

FOLLOW: @AnnieCollage on Instagram

Lovely collages of all the shows and fashion phenomenon you need to know about. My favourite was the SAINT LAURENT Power Suit amalgamation (Feb 28th). Go take in the aforementioned trends via the most creative layout possible.