I began to understand that there is a major disconnect between what we see on fast-fashion Instagram and the way that people who are literally in the industry of fashion live their lives. A few weeks ago, I had my chance to see firsthand what that disconnect looked like. I attended this industry mixers event.
These mixers were created by a friend of a friend. I was invited, along with a bunch of other people from the industry. Fashion editors, designers, writers — you name it. And I drank too many glasses of wine and eventually, the conversation turned to what we were all secretly obsessed with but would never post about.
Keisha, a fashion editor, blurted out, “Black Levis 501s. I have four identical pairs. When jeans actually fit your body right, you don’t mess around.” Black Levis 501s are about as far away from a colour-mixing, vintage-finding, Instagram-perfect wardrobe as you can get. And yet, here was this person whose Instagram feed is a Technicolor dreamscape of patterns, colours, and vintage finds. I thought about my own closet and realised that I have those same kinds of things in mine. And while I love them, I don’t love them enough to take them to work. I love them enough to take them on vacation. Or to brunch. But I don’t love them enough to take them to meetings. And that’s why I wear the same few pieces over and over again.
Marcus, another person I saw in street-style blogs, wearing what appeared to be a runway model’s outfit, went, “Uniqlo Heattech everything. I layer that stuff under literally everything all winter.” I laughed. Not because I didn’t believe him — I did. I just thought it was hilarious that this ridiculously elegant man was secretly a slave to mass-produced thermal underwear. “Nobody sees it but I’d rather die than be cold at shows,” he added. Once the confessions started, they couldn’t stop. White button-downs. Plain cashmere sweaters in the most boring colours possible. Seamless nude underwear. Basic black ankle boots. The kind of stuff that makes no content whatsoever but appears to be keeping the fashion world going. It was like finding the secret ingredient in your favorite restaurant. Completely unglamorous, but absolutely necessary.
I started to think about my own wardrobe and what I actually wear when I am not trying to create content. Spoiler alert: it is not the vintage blazer that takes beautiful pictures, but needs to be adjusted constantly, or the interesting pants that look great, but need to be dry-cleaned every time I wear them. It is the same five pieces, on repeat, that allow me to pretend I have my life together, even when I clearly do not.
I started asking around more deliberately after that night. I promised them that I wouldn’t use their names if they gave me the names of the basic things they were obsessively in love with. The answers were both surprising and completely predictable. The number one response? Plain white T-shirts. Not vintage band tees, or cropped versions, or anything with interesting details — just plain, boring white T-shirts.
“I have a subscription service for white T-shirts,” one fashion director told me. “They come to my house every three months. I replace them before they can get yellow or stretchy. A perfect white T-shirt is the base for approximately 60 percent of my outfits.” She mentioned Petit Bateau. I laughed. Because I had been buying the same ones without realising that we had the same taste in overpriced basics. Another editor swears by the men’s white undershirts from Amazon. “Six pack for twenty dollars. They wash perfectly. They look the same as the $80 designer ones. I tried the designer ones. Honestly. These boring ones look better.” I actually tried this after she told me. And she is completely correct. Sometimes the least fashionable option is the best.
Black ankle boots were also brought up frequently. Not trendy ones, or ones with fun details. Just simple, walkable boots that match with everything and do not draw attention from an outfit. “I have been buying the same Acne Jensen boots for seven years,” one stylist told me. “When they break, I buy the same ones. They are my secret weapon. They make everything look intentional without anyone noticing the boots.”
I understand this. I have these basic black boots from Everlane. I have probably worn them 200 times in the last two years. They are not exciting enough to be the focal point of an outfit photo, but they have walked me to client meetings, dates, grocery stores, and that one time I had to walk 15 miles because the bus broke down. They are the Swiss Army knife of footwear. Extremely dependable, and slightly dull. Which is exactly what you want in shoes you wear all the time.
Black pants were another revelation. Several people mentioned that they have multiple identical pairs of high-quality, well-fitting black trousers that make up the core of their work wardrobes. “I have five pairs of the same black wool pants from The Row,” one market editor admitted. “I got them on sale through my job three years ago and they are still the foundation of my professional wardrobe. No one cares about black pants on Instagram, but I wear them at least twice a week and they immediately make me look put together.”
This resonated with me. I have these navy pants from COS. They fit perfectly. My legs look longer. So I bought three. At the time, I thought this was crazy. Who needs three identical pairs of pants? But it turns out, me. I need three identical pairs of pants because when you find something that works for your body and your lifestyle and your budget, you buy multiples and you don’t apologize for it.
Cashmere sweaters in the dullest colours imaginable came up over and over again. “I have a collection of navy, black and grey cashmere crew necks that I have been building for years,” said one senior fashion editor. “Some cost a lot, some I get on sale at J.Crew. But they all do the same thing. They are the perfect backdrop for more interesting pieces. I probably wear one three days a week. But I’d never post just the sweater because it would be the most boring post ever.”
The underwear conversations were especially passionate. “Seamless nude underwear is more important to my job than any statement piece I own,” one stylist told me. “We talk all the time about which bras disappear under anything and which underwear you can wear under white pants. It is professional knowledge. But it is too boring to write about.”
Leggings came up as well, but everyone defended their love for them like it was a shameful secret. “I would never admit this in public,” one fashion director said. “But good black leggings are vital to my survival. Not as pants. I’m not a complete idiot. But as a layering piece under dresses when it’s cold outside. As a flight layer. For working from home. The Lululemon ones have saved me from countless fashion weeks in cold cities.”
I totally relate to this defensive attitude towards leggings. When I first moved to New York, I was convinced that wearing leggings as pants would somehow render me unworthy of serious consideration. But then I realised that comfort and practicality are not only acceptable, but highly sophisticated concepts. Now I have nice leggings for under-dress layering, cheap ones for workouts, and mid-range ones for grocery shopping. And I refuse to be ashamed of any of it.
White button-downs also came up in these conversations. “There is nothing more luxurious than a perfectly oversized white button-down shirt,” a stylist observed. “I buy men’s oxfords and get them tailored slightly. With jeans, it is my weekend uniform. With black pants, it is my weekday uniform. No one wants to see a white button-down on Instagram. But I feel naked without one when I travel.”
Merino socks even came up, which I would have never predicted. But then I thought about how awful it is to have to deal with socks that don’t match with your shoes. “I subscribe to nice merino socks,” one menswear editor shared. “They arrive quarterly. It is the least flashy fashion purchase I make. But I suspect it has the largest impact on my overall daily comfort. And menswear people are always so good at figuring out the little invisible details that make everything else work better.
What was interesting to me about all of these conversations was how much money the fashion insiders I spoke to spent on multiples of basic items, versus how much they agonized over making a statement with individual pieces. “I will argue for weeks about spending $300 on an interesting top that everyone will notice,” one fashion news director explained. “But I will spend the same amount on three perfect white T-shirts. I know I will wear them constantly.”
This changed my whole approach to creating a wardrobe on a budget. Instead of trying to find one perfect item to replace everything, perhaps the way forward is to find affordable basics that actually work, and buy multiples. Like, instead of buying one perfect black sweater, what if I had three cheaper black sweaters that I could wear without worrying?
When I asked about social media behaviors surrounding these basics, everyone admitted to intentionally leaving their most-worn items out of their content. “No one follows me to see black pants and white shirts,” one editor said. “They follow me to see the one day a month I wear something photographically interesting. It is a performance. Not a documentary of how I actually dress.”
I have done the same thing. I have built a wardrobe based on performance. I build a wardrobe based on what I want to show others. But now I realise that there is a big difference between what you serve to guests, and what you eat for lunch on Tuesday. Both are real aspects of your life. But they serve different purposes. The problem is when we begin to think that the performance version is the real version.
The truth is, no matter what creative field you are in, there are often practical reasons to prioritize functionality over aesthetics. When you are on your feet for twelve hours, or rushing from meeting to meeting, or you have to stay focused on your job, not your outfit, you want to wear clothes that simply work. The most stylish people I know are not the ones wearing the most interesting clothing each day. They are wearing carefully curated basics with a few statement pieces thrown in.
