I’ve got good news and bad news.
For all the Gen Z girlies who feel the lack “personal style” or that they’re suffocating under the constant churn of TikTok trends, well, here’s some good news from a milliennial in fashion who’s tried everything under the sun: It’s a rite of passage. You will find your personal style as you get older, and the sartorial mistakes you make along the way are part of the journey. Finding your personal style is as much a process of elimination as it is a daily experiment.
Now for the bad news. After working in fashion for more than a decade, I still can’t say I don’t make the occasional impulse purchase that I very quickly come to regret. Nor can I say with 100% confidence that I’ve nailed my personal style.
You see, when you work in fashion, especially in this relentless digital age, there’s a lot of pressure to dress a certain way, to wear the latest drops or style the latest trends. And once it’s on the ‘gram, God forbid you get snapped in it again (that part is thankfully changing with people being more sustainability-conscious, but if you look at most fashion influencers’ feeds, you’d be hard-pressed to find a repeat outfit on the grid).
As a fashion editor, I’m bombarded with emails from brands touting a new microtrend and TikTok coining a new ‘core’ every single day. Just this morning an email subject line read: “Fishermancore is the new Coastal Grandmother—shop it now.” To those who have bemoaned that “Gen Z have no style,” I’d like to come to their defence. How could they when even I, someone supposedly older and wiser, have trouble keeping up with this sartorial hamster wheel?
A decade ago, the proliferation of fashion shows coincided with the rise of the Fashion Influencer, resulting in what many would agree was the birth of street style today. The concrete sidewalks became the new runway; and Chiara Ferragni the new Cindy Crawford. Insert little old me, in my early 20s, going to my first shows, intimidated by the hoards of photographers stationed outside shows flashing away at immaculately-dressed attendees. I, too, got swept up in the fray, and I found myself dressing up to impress my industry peers, which at the time meant some highly impractical footwear and questionable outerwear choices in subzero temperatures that made me feel self-conscious and once even catch pneumonia (true story).
The truth is, to upkeep my fashion week wardrobe, I’d hop into H&M and Zara to buy some “fashion” pieces (read: things that I wouldn’t wear in real life, but would photograph well) to then wear once on the streets of Milan or Paris and never again. It was unsustainable to say the least for the environment and my wallet, but also made me lose sight of what *my* style was. I was dressing for other people, for the cameras, for everyone else but myself. It was exhausting.
After (more than) a few seasons of blisters and blunders, however, I slowly came to learn what I actually enjoyed wearing, and – shocker – it’s often the pieces I felt most comfortable in. That often starts with the shoes. I once interviewed shoe designer Gianvito Rossi, son of legendary Italian shoemaker Sergio Rossi, who told me: “Every day we get dressed from the feet. We decide if today is a heel day or a boot day or a flats day,” and he couldn’t be more right. I started styling myself from the feet up and it has made me realise what kinds of shoes are most flattering on me, but that I can also race around town all day in (which is what my job entails at fashion week). No one looks chic when they're in pain.
According to a former personal stylist in NYC.
As I honed in on my style—learning for instance that high-waisted styles suit me over low-slung trousers, and that big earrings have become my signature—I found that I also got more compliments. I walk differently when I’m in comfortable shoes, and I stand taller when I’m not tugging self-consciously at an overly short top. I used to make the mistake of thinking that attention comes from OTT ‘fits, or flashy fashion, but it actually comes down to that age-old adage: style comes with confidence. Historically, the people you can think of with the most recognisable, iconoclastic styles—Anna Wintour, Audrey Hepburn, Jane Birkin—wouldn't succumb to any passing fad but became icons because they dress in a way that is unapologetically themselves—and people tend to take notice.
Over the years I've learned to identify some small but telling differences: I get stared at on the tube if I wear a “fashion” outfit, but I get stopped on the tube and asked where I get my (insert: shoe, jacket, earrings, etc.) if I'm wearing something that is a cherished part of my personal wardrobe. I've learned to adopt a few rules around fashion week dressing (No sky-high stilettos, no shorts or miniskirts and no micro bags that don’t fit a phone) that have not only kept me sane but led to more photographers resonating with my style than ever before.
“You can always tell when someone’s wearing clothes they have to versus when they’re wearing clothes that really feel true to themselves," Romina Introini tells me. One of the most experienced street style photographers on the scene, Romina's spent many seasons photographing all the show-adjacent peacocking. She's seen it all. "I'm usually drawn to clothes that have bold shapes or colours, and unusual combinations, but what is most important to me is authenticity.”
As I head into my first shows of the season and start planning my outfit(s), I may not yet know what I'm going to wear, but one thing's for sure: you won't be seeing me in a ‘core’ trend any time soon.
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