Okay, so I have this mortifying story from back when I thought I understood fashion. Picture this: me, three years ago, at my cousin’s wedding in Chicago. I’d driven four hours from Minneapolis wearing what I thought was the perfect outfit – little black dress, sensible wedges, and this absolutely massive statement necklace I’d splurged on at Nordstrom. Thing probably weighed more than my toddler’s backpack and made this weird jingling sound every time I moved my head.
I felt so put-together walking into that reception hall. Like, finally, I wasn’t just “mom in Target clothes” – I was sophisticated wedding guest with actual jewelry that cost more than groceries for the week. Then my husband’s aunt Sarah walks up to me, looking absolutely effortless in a simple navy dress with this delicate silk scarf tied loosely around her neck, and says, “Oh honey, that’s quite a… bold choice.” She wasn’t being mean, but I spent the rest of the night feeling like I was wearing a chandelier to a candlelit dinner.
Fast forward to now, and guess what I’ve been seeing everywhere from school pickup to the grocery store? Yep, scarves. Not the big winter ones your mom made you wear in Iowa blizzards, but these little silk squares that somehow make every outfit look like you actually thought about getting dressed instead of just grabbing whatever didn’t smell like goldfish crackers.
I first noticed it when I was scrolling Instagram during naptime (don’t judge – that’s when I get my fashion fix). All these style bloggers I follow were suddenly wearing these tiny scarves with everything. Tank tops, blazers, even hoodies. At first I thought it was just another trend I’d never pull off because, let’s be real, when you’re chasing a four-year-old around Target, the last thing you need is a delicate piece of silk getting yanked around your neck.
But then something clicked when I was cleaning out my grandmother’s dresser last summer. Found this whole collection of scarves she’d saved from the sixties and seventies – some still had the price tags on them. These gorgeous little squares of silk with patterns that looked like they belonged in a museum. My mom was about to donate the whole box to Goodwill, but I grabbed them. Figured if nothing else, Emma could use them for dress-up.
Turns out, I’m the one who ended up playing dress-up. Started with just one – this cream-colored square with tiny blue flowers that I tied around my neck before a parent-teacher conference. Nothing fancy, just folded it into a triangle and knotted it loosely. But you know what? Three different moms asked where I got it. Made me feel like I’d discovered some secret styling trick instead of just raiding my dead grandmother’s jewelry box.
The thing about scarves versus those chunky necklaces I used to love is they don’t fight with everything else you’re wearing. Remember when we all had those massive J.Crew bubble necklaces? I had two – one in coral, one in navy – and they basically dictated my entire outfit. Couldn’t wear prints, couldn’t wear anything with texture, couldn’t even wear my hair down without it getting tangled in all those beads.
With a scarf, it’s like the opposite. Doesn’t matter if your shirt has buttons or your sweater has a weird neckline or your toddler wiped peanut butter on your sleeve (again). The scarf just… works. Plus, when Jackson inevitably spills juice on himself in the car, I can untie it and use it to clean him up. Try doing that with a statement necklace.
I started experimenting with different ways to wear them, mostly because I had zero idea what I was doing. YouTube became my friend during those precious kid-free hours. Found this girl who must own like fifty vintage scarves and just films herself tying them different ways. Sounds boring, but somehow it’s completely addictive. Like watching someone fold fitted sheets perfectly – you know you’ll never master it, but you can’t look away.
Learned you can tie them at your throat like a tiny necktie, which looks surprisingly chic with a white button-down. You can wrap them around your wrist like the world’s fanciest bracelet. You can even thread them through your belt loops, though I tried that once and felt like I was playing cowgirl dress-up. Some things work better in theory than in suburban Minneapolis, you know?
My favorite discovery has been using them in my hair. Sounds very farmhand chic, but when you twist a silk scarf into a ponytail, it instantly makes your mom bun look intentional instead of “I haven’t washed my hair in three days.” Game changer for those mornings when dry shampoo isn’t cutting it but you still need to look presentable at preschool dropoff.
The best part? These things cost basically nothing secondhand. I’ve found gorgeous scarves at estate sales for two dollars. TWO DOLLARS. For comparison, that disaster necklace from the wedding cost me eighty-five bucks and is currently sitting in my jewelry box making me feel guilty every time I see it. Meanwhile, I’ve worn grandma’s flower scarf probably thirty times this year and it still looks perfect.
Been noticing them everywhere now that I’m paying attention. The kindergarten teacher who always looks pulled-together? Tiny black scarf knotted at her neck with her cardigans. The mom at soccer practice who somehow makes athleisure look elegant? Bright red silk square tied to her ponytail. Even saw a teenager at the mall last weekend wearing one as a belt with high-waisted jeans. Looked amazing, naturally, because teenagers can wear garbage bags and look cool.
What I love most is how democratic the whole thing is. Sure, you can spend hundreds on vintage Hermès if that’s your thing, but honestly? The five-dollar scarf from the church rummage sale looks just as good when it’s tied right. It’s not about the label or the price tag – it’s about the styling. How refreshing is that in a world where everything feels like a competition about who spent more money to look effortless?
My sister visited from Iowa last month and brought our mom’s old scarf collection she’d been storing in her closet. Turns out Mom had way better taste than I remembered. Found this incredible geometric print from the seventies that looks like abstract art, plus several solid colors that go with everything. Made me realize I’d been thinking about accessories all wrong – instead of buying one statement piece that dominates an outfit, I could have several smaller pieces that enhance whatever I’m already wearing.
The timing feels right for this shift too. After years of everything being loud and attention-grabbing – chunky jewelry, bold prints, maximize-everything mentality – there’s something appealing about an accessory that whispers instead of shouts. Especially when you’re dealing with kids who are basically walking volume controls set to eleven. Sometimes you need the quiet elegance of silk against your neck instead of metal clanging every time you bend down to pick up Legos.
Started keeping one in my purse because they’re so versatile. Spill coffee on your shirt? Scarf covers it. Hair elastic breaks? Scarf becomes hair tie. Need to elevate your basic mom uniform of jeans and sweater? Scarf makes it look intentional instead of defeated. It’s like having a tiny stylist in your handbag.
The kids find them fascinating too, which I didn’t expect. Emma loves watching me tie them different ways and has started requesting certain colors with her outfits. “Mommy, wear the pretty blue one that matches my backpack!” Jackson mostly tries to untie them, but he’s three, so that’s par for the course. At least when he grabs a silk scarf, it doesn’t hurt like when he used to yank on my necklaces.
Been thinking about why this particular trend resonates with me as a mom trying to find her style again. Maybe it’s because scarves feel grown-up without being precious. They’re sophisticated but practical. They reference this whole history of elegant women – Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn, even my own grandmother going to church on Sundays – without feeling costume-y or like I’m trying too hard.
There’s also something nice about wearing something with a story. Every vintage scarf I own came from somewhere, belonged to someone, was chosen carefully and treasured. When I wear that cream one with blue flowers, I think about my grandmother picking it out, maybe for a special occasion, maybe just because it was beautiful. That connection feels more meaningful than wearing something mass-produced that ten thousand other people probably own.
My husband initially thought the whole scarf thing was hilarious. “You’re turning into one of those women who wears scarves,” he said, like it was some kind of diagnosis. But last week he admitted I looked “really put-together” when I wore a navy silk square with my white shirt and jeans to his company barbecue. Coming from a man who thinks I look fancy when I wear lip gloss, that’s basically a standing ovation.
The learning curve has been real though. First few times I tried wearing them, I kept checking mirrors to make sure they hadn’t shifted or come untied. Felt very conscious of this new thing around my neck. But now it’s second nature, like putting on earrings or grabbing my keys. Some mornings I automatically reach for a scarf without even thinking about it.
If you’re thinking about trying this trend but feeling intimidated, start simple. Find one solid-colored scarf – cream, navy, black, whatever works with most of your wardrobe. Practice the basic throat knot a few times when you’re alone so you’re not fumbling with it in public. Wear it with something you already love, like your favorite sweater or go-to white shirt. The scarf should feel like an enhancement, not a costume piece.
And honestly? If you have a drawer full of chunky statement necklaces collecting dust, you’re not alone. They had their moment, and it was a good moment, but fashion moves on. That’s not a bad thing – it’s just evolution. Right now, the evolution is toward something quieter, more personal, more connected to history and craftsmanship instead of trends and flash.
I still laugh thinking about that wedding three years ago and how overdressed I felt in that massive necklace. If I could go back, I’d wear the same black dress but with one of grandma’s scarves instead. Would’ve felt more like myself and definitely wouldn’t have jingled every time I hugged someone. Sometimes the best style choices are the ones that feel like they’ve always been part of you, not the ones that announce themselves from across the room.
These days, that’s exactly what a good scarf does – becomes part of you instead of sitting on top of you. And at two dollars from an estate sale versus eighty-five for statement jewelry that made me feel like a walking wind chime? I think I’ll stick with the silk.
Taylor’s a Minneapolis mom rediscovering her style between school runs and snack time. She writes about fashion that survives real life—affordable, comfortable, and still cute. Her posts are for moms who want to feel good without pretending motherhood is effortless.
