That moment when someone compliments your outfit and asks where it’s from—there’s a particular pleasure in being able to say “Oh, it’s Chanel” or “It’s vintage Dior.” But let me tell you about the strange power move that happens in fashion circles when you instead respond with: “Actually, it’s Zara” while maintaining direct eye contact. I’ve watched seasoned fashion directors nearly spit out their oat milk flat whites in surprise. The ultimate flex isn’t always showing you can spend money—sometimes it’s showing you didn’t have to.
My first proper “fashion job” interview, I wore a Zara blazer that I’d spent three weeks stalking online before it came back in stock in my size. Black, slightly oversized, with subtle shoulder pads that made me feel like I could conquer the world, or at least convince someone to hire me despite my obvious impostor syndrome. The fashion director who interviewed me—a terrifying woman who had worked at Vogue and wore exclusively grey cashmere—leaned forward midway through and touched my lapel. “Nice jacket,” she said. “Zara?” I nearly died on the spot. Not because she’d identified it as high street, but because she’d recognized the specific piece. That’s how ubiquitous certain Zara items become in fashion circles—they’re so good they’re instantly recognizable to the trained eye.
Here’s the thing—walk into any fashion magazine office, any styling session, any runway show’s backstage, and I guarantee you’ll spot at least five Zara pieces mixed in with designer items. The fashion industry’s relationship with the Spanish retail giant is an open secret, like everyone’s collective agreement not to mention that half the front row has the exact same Phoebe Philo-inspired trousers on.
Last month, I hosted a dinner at my flat for six fashion editor friends. As everyone hung up their coats, there was an eruption of laughter—four of us were wearing the exact same Zara oversized poplin shirt in white, just styled differently. Mine was tucked into vintage Levi’s, Samira had hers under a Bottega Veneta vest, Ellie was wearing hers as a light jacket over a slip dress, and Charlotte had hers belted as a mini-dress with boots. We looked like we’d planned it, which I suppose in a way we had—we’d all independently fallen for the same item while doing our usual Zara sweep.
The “Zara sweep” is, by the way, a technical term for the weekly (or, God help me, sometimes daily) check of new arrivals that most fashion editors I know have built into their routines like brushing their teeth or checking Instagram. It’s as automatic as breathing at this point. New drops usually hit the website on Tuesday and Friday mornings, information I’m slightly embarrassed to have committed to memory.
So what exactly are we all buying from there? Well, I conducted a highly scientific study (i.e., sent panicky WhatsApp messages to every fashion person I know at 11 PM asking “WHAT DO YOU BUY FROM ZARA NEED TO KNOW BY TOMORROW”) and the results were fascinating.
Blazers came out on top, mentioned by literally every editor I spoke to. There’s something about Zara’s tailoring that hits a sweet spot—structured enough to look expensive, but not so rigid that you feel like you’re wearing armor. Last season’s black wool-blend blazer with slight shoulder padding was apparently the unanimous MVP, spotted at fashion weeks across all four cities. I personally witnessed three different editors wearing it in Milan, each convinced they were the only one who’d discovered it. One stylist admitted she bought it in every color and pretends they’re all different blazers when her boyfriend asks why packages keep arriving.
The white poplin shirts I mentioned earlier come in at a close second. “It’s basically the fashion editor uniform at this point,” confessed one contributor who works across three major titles. “I have four identical ones because they always get makeup on them during shoot days and there’s nothing worse than a foundation mark on white cotton.” The men’s section versions got particular praise for being cut perfectly oversized without looking sloppy.
Knitwear was another standout category, specifically the merino wool and cashmere-blend jumpers that appear every autumn. “I’ve put them side by side with versions that cost five times as much, and honestly, the difference is negligible,” said a fashion director at one of the biggest British monthlies. “Especially the black crew necks—they’re my secret weapon for layering.” Another editor confessed she buys the men’s cashmere jumpers in medium for that perfect slouchy look, then cuts the labels out so her assistant doesn’t know they’re not the £300 versions she claims they are on her expenses. (If you’re reading this, Melissa, your secret’s safe with me. Sort of.)
Leather (or leather-look) pieces are another Zara stronghold in editors’ wardrobes. Multiple people mentioned that specific faux leather straight-leg trousers that keep coming back season after season. You know the ones—mid-rise, slightly cropped at the ankle, with a perfect not-too-tight-not-too-loose fit that somehow works on everyone. I’ve seen them paired with everything from band t-shirts to silk blouses on fashion desks across London.
One editor who shall remain nameless (because she works for a very high-end publication that would probably have a collective aneurysm if they knew) admits she has a dedicated Zara accessories drawer. “The chunky gold-toned jewelry is my go-to for shoots when we need to layer pieces but don’t have the budget for the real thing,” she told me. “No one can tell the difference in photos, and they’re substantial enough not to look cheap in person.” The sculptural earrings in particular got multiple shout-outs for looking “embarrassingly similar” to designer versions costing twenty times as much.
Special mention goes to the shoes, which had editors divided. Some swear by Zara’s leather ballet flats and mules (“I buy the same nude pair every six months,” admitted one accessories editor), while others said they draw the line at footwear, preferring to invest in better quality pieces that won’t fall apart after a season of fashion week pavement-pounding. I fall somewhere in the middle—their strappy sandals have gotten me through many summer events looking perfectly respectable, but I’ve had leather boots from there that literally started peeling after two wears in light rain. It’s fashion roulette.
The most surprising category that came up repeatedly was event dressing. You’d think fashion editors would go all-out designer for important occasions, but apparently not. “When I need something for a last-minute industry event and don’t have time for samples or shopping my usual places, Zara is my emergency go-to,” said a features director who regularly appears in street style galleries. “Their black dresses with interesting details or those matching co-ords always look more expensive than they are, especially if you add good accessories.”
I’ve personally witnessed this phenomenon at after-parties during fashion week, where more than one editor has triumphantly revealed their outfit was a last-minute Zara purchase. There’s almost a perverse pride in it—like beating the system somehow. The most legendary example was a very well-known editor-in-chief who showed up to a major awards ceremony in what looked like a perfect black column gown, only to reveal after several champagnes that it was actually a £49.99 Zara dress she’d had slightly altered by her local seamstress. The alterations cost more than the dress.
There are certain shopping strategies fashion people employ at Zara that the average shopper might not know about. First, most editors I spoke to avoid the obviously trendy pieces with recognizable details that scream “THIS SEASON’S ZARA.” Instead, they hunt for what one called “the quiet pieces”—items that could easily pass for minimalist designer goods with their clean lines and quality fabrics. These tend to be buried among the more eye-catching trend pieces.
Second, size flexibility is key. The men’s department is a treasure trove for oversized knits and perfect shirts, while sometimes sizing up in structured pieces creates a better silhouette. One editor who’s a standard UK size 10 told me she buys size L or XL in shirts and jackets for that intentionally oversized look that screams “I’m creative and important” rather than “This doesn’t fit me.”
Third—and this is crucial—every single fashion person I spoke to agreed that online shopping is vastly preferable to battling the in-store experience. “I would rather walk barefoot through London than go into Zara on Oxford Street on a Saturday,” one fashion assistant told me with genuine horror in her voice. “The website is much better for finding the good stuff without having to elbow teenagers away from the new arrivals section.” The exception is the Zara on Brompton Road, which several editors cited as mysteriously better-stocked and less chaotic than other branches.
The most telling insight came from a conversation with a design assistant who previously worked at Zara’s headquarters. “There are specific items in every collection that are designed with the fashion crowd in mind,” she revealed after swearing me to secrecy (sorry, but this is too good not to share). “They’re usually the more minimal pieces with interesting proportions rather than obvious details. The team literally discusses whether ‘fashion people’ will like certain items during development.” Apparently, they have mood boards with street style images of editors and influencers, tracking which Zara pieces gain traction in industry circles.
My own Zara shopping habit is well-documented among my friends. That black blazer I mentioned from my interview? I still have it eight years later. It’s been to Paris, New York, and Milan fashion weeks. It’s been photographed next to outfits worth thousands. It’s been drenched in champagne at launch parties and has endured countless Tube commutes squashed under someone’s armpit. The lining is starting to give up the ghost, and there’s a mysterious stain inside one pocket from what I think was a leaky pen during a particularly frantic show season, but I can’t bring myself to replace it.
Every fashion week, I play a little game with myself: spot the Zara. It’s embarrassingly easy once you know what to look for. That specific shade of beige they do so well in their knitwear. The particular cut of their wide-leg trousers. The hardware on their bags that’s just slightly heavier than other high street brands. I’ve gotten good enough that I can usually identify pieces with about 90% accuracy, which is either impressive or shows I spend way too much time browsing their website (definitely the latter).
There’s something oddly democratizing about knowing that even the most seasoned fashion professionals—people with access to discount codes, sample sales, and sometimes actual free designer clothes—still find themselves doing emergency Zara runs before important meetings or grabbing those perfect wide-leg trousers in multiple colors.
So next time you’re struggling through the crowded rails or furiously refreshing the website hoping your size comes back in stock, take comfort in knowing that somewhere in London, a fashion director in head-to-toe The Row is doing exactly the same thing, possibly while pretending to be on a very important call so no one recognizes her. Fashion’s greatest equalizer isn’t taste or talent or even budget—it’s the universal experience of triumphantly finding that perfect Zara piece before anyone else does.
And if you spot me hovering around the new arrivals section at precisely 9:01 AM on a Tuesday, no you didn’t. I’m simply conducting professional research. The fact that I’m clutching three oversized poplin shirts in different colors is purely coincidental.
