Fashion shows work similar in my mind; there is a job for every aspect of the show. What I failed to take into account, until recently, was the fact that a stylist could be considered a part of that.

I was at work, leaning back in a wobbly desk chair in my too-hot office as I scrolled Instagram during my lunch break. My feed is toggled to “Following”, showing me everything I’d missed in the few hours I wasn’t on the app. I see a post from Wisdom Kaye, a carrousel of images that don’t include him. My finger pauses; I don’t like the post—not yet.

The caption gets me.

“Kidsuper SS27 “RESENHA” style by me. 48 looks inspired by the 48 qualifying countries of the World Cup.”

Styled by me.

I grew up with shows like Project Runway, watching fledgling designers do their best to prove their talent and skill. Shows like this emphasize the role of the designer in a fashion show, making it seem like it was commonplace for the designer to do/control everything.

In my head, the designer not only conceptualized the pieces on the runway, but put together the looks. They decided what each model would wear, and how. Sure, hair stylists and makeup artists were involved, but I believed the vision—everything together—came from the designer. I hadn’t known that fashion shows could be styled by someone other than the designer.

But this is why I’m learning. With one Instagram post, Wisdom Kaye rewired the way shows worked in my mind. I needed to know more about stylists on the runway.

In between my own research, this had me reaching out to Carmichael Byfield, CEO and Designer of House of Byfield, a fashion house based out of Amsterdam.

Despite the misconception that a fashion show is all about the designer, Byfield shared that it is common place for a designer to have a stylist or a creative director who acts as a stylist. The designs for the season are created by Byfield, but after that point, things get collaborative. Byfield’s Creative Director is the stylist for his international shows, and the two work together during model fittings to see what designs work best on each while keeping the vision for the runway in mind.

These stylists, often someone who specializes in runway dressing, are a crucial part of a runway. For a smaller brand or fashion house, one stylist may be employed or an established member of the team will take on the role, but large brands may hire multiple stylists.

In a Facebook video from Dion Lee in 2019, we get some insight from Stylist Melissa Levy. She states that her job as a stylist is to “bring together the body of work as a cohesive proposition... to really push Dion’s vision in way that is palatable, and desirable, and recognizable.” She emphasizes her connection with Lee and how it helps her understand and execute his vision on the runway.

While watching the video, I noticed this.

It’s a bad screenshot—sorry—but it shows a clothing rack with an outfit as well as several images of a model in the outfit, most likely from the fitting. I saw this as a visual representation of the plans (as well as any changes to said plan) that Levy wanted to keep in tact for the show. Because a stylist may work with multiple brands, it makes sense to keep the brand identity on display to avoid mixing up styles.

By the end of my research, I had learned so much about runway stylists. Their job is so different from someone who styles an individual; they’re not choosing clothes to complement a person’s personality, but to display a designer’s vision. They hold an interesting position in my mind now, and I hope I can learn more about them!

Unfashionably,

Synovia

But, the Grand Opening built on another Obama legacy—fashion.

The Obamas are potentially the most fashionable and fashion forward First Family in recent history. Michelle Obama builds on her history with beautiful and sophisticated dresses during the Pre-Opening, where she was seen wearing a custom CELINE dress. The black dress, which was originally designed as a minidress, was lengthened into a glittering tea-length dress of Michelle.

I am staunchly anti kitten heel, especially on tall women, but Michelle pulls it off. It’s an outfit that feels toned down and unassuming, but has a lot of detail and texture. If CELINE didn’t sell these dresses for around $2000 a pop, I would even call it Normal. It’s the kind of elegance I wouldn’t be shocked to see in a higher end restaurant in the city.

The former First Lady followed this up at the Opening Ceremony with a Thom Browne set. I love the jacket and matching pencil skirt, but I love the top she’s wearing. Other articles keep calling it a corset but is very obviously a modern interpretation of stays.

For those of you who did not go through a Historical Fashion phase, stays—or a pair of stays—are the precursor to the corset. It was mainly worn as an undergarment in the 18^th century to provide back and bust support as well as distribute the weight of heavy skirts for wealthier women.

With the popularization of cottagecore during the COVID pandemic, stays made their way out of the past and into the closets of modern people. From what I’ve seen and interacted with on social media, it looks like only the historical and fantasy enthusiasts are still wearing their stays. the main stream folks seemed to jump of the bandwagon pretty quickly with this trend, so it was extremely interesting to see the Michelle Obama in that top.

I think, in the end, Michele Obama has a pattern when it comes to her sense of fashion: iconic yet relatable. It wouldn’t be impossible for the everyday woman to recreate these outfits with more budget friendly pieces. The specific items may be inaccessible to some, but the shapes and silhouettes are not. Michelle is a master of taking something simply and making it more than it is. A simple jacket and pencil skirt; do it up with a pair of stays. A classic black minidress; add some length to make it classy.

Michelle Obama was a First Lady for the people. She is also a Fashionista for the people.

Unfashionably,

Synovia.

Things were not looking good. There was a sparse Instagram page, with only two links in the bio—one for the Eventbrite ticket page and a link to a shop that didn’t work, and nothing else to assuage my fears. By Thursday, my panic was at its peak. I had received my second reminder email and I kept thinking the same things. What if I got there and no one else was there; what if it was just an empty warehouse; what if it was an elaborate scam to kidnap me and I had taken myself to the secondary location! (Wow! I’m kinda paranoid.)

To calm myself, I clicked on the link in the reminder email. I read over the event again. I could see that 47 people were following the host, and over 50 people (including myself) had purchased tickets. I took a breath. If this was a scam, at least I wasn’t alone. I had to hold out. I already paid, and I would not be losing my money by bailing on the experience.

So, at 7:30pm last night, I found myself in the Bronx, hoping to see a decent, if not poor show. The building itself didn’t make me feel any better. I walked by men openly working on cars, thinking that I was in the wrong place, but I found the entrance eventually.

“At least there are people here,” I thought to myself when I walked in. In the space, four guests were already seated. Around them, people whizzed and whirred to finish things up.

Despite doors opening at 7:30pm and the show scheduled to start at 8pm, the staff—and I use that term loosely—were still setting up until well past eight, and the show itself didn’t start until a little after 9:30pm. I say this, not to be mean or disparaging, but to emphasize that this was a small, novice event. This took place in an event rental space above a mechanic shop and the designer/owner was familiar with most of the people who attended; I genuinely think I’m the only person who wasn’t a friend, or a friend of a friend, in there.

This was a community showing support for their own—I just happen to stumble upon it.

It lacked polish, but I had a good time. The models were beautiful and funny, and the pieces they were wearing were gorgeous. It was clear that a lot of effort went into the entire show. This design is loved and cared for by her community, and that was great to see.

I hope I can attend other fashion shows in the future to see the difference. What role does budget place? What about notoriety? I have so many questions about what goes into a fashion show, and with New York Fashion Week coming back around in September; I might have the chance to answer them!

Unfashionably,

Synovia

You’re not the only one in uniform, but there are so few of you—all with the same immigrant mothers—that it doesn’t make a difference. To your mothers, the collective mothers, school is not a fashion show. You’re there to learn, not show off clothes you didn’t buy.

From pre-K to 8^th grade, you wear a uniform, and by high school, you have no idea what you like to wear. The other kids have had time to figure out what feels good, and looks good, on their bodies, but between school uniforms, pre-planned church outfits, and the yard clothes you wear at your grandma’s house, you’ve had no such time.

In my freshman year of high school, I had a uniform. My school did not have a uniform, but I was so unfamiliar with what I liked, that I just got my mom to buy me 5 polo shirts and 3 khaki pants for me to cycle through. As I got older, the uniform changed; it became chinos and flannels and muscle tanks and graphic tees. By 2018, I was a teenaged girl dressed like a cursed hipster/frat bro hybrid that couldn’t decide if she preferred men’s clothes are just really hated skinny jeans. (It was the skinny jeans.)

College was a time for exploration. I wore what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted. It was nerve-racking, trying to figure out what I liked and what looked good on me. I experimented with color and style and how much cleavage I wanted to show. But, discovering yourself is a lot of effort, in all honesty; and in the more stressful times of the semester, I found myself in chinos and flannels out of simplicity.

Since then, my life has been a balancing act of stunted growth. I have bouts of fashionable inspiration—when all my outfits are strange and eclectic and fun—before I am overwhelmed by the stress of life and I fall back into my pile of graphic tees. I imagine that I’ll find a middle ground one day, that I’ll get dressed in a way the doesn’t feel like I’m thinking too hard or not at all. I imagine one day, that I’ll start growing again.

This year’s theme is “Costume Art” or the idea of Fashion as pieces of art rather than just clothes. This is something I’ve very briefly spoken about before; some pieces are meant to be art and nothing else and that’s something I’m coming to terms with. I think this year’s theme is a great way for me to reevaluate my Normie ideas of clothing and fashion and focus primarily on the artistry of it all.

As I have no skin, or money, in the game, I’m going to be doing what everyone is doing this week: ranking my favorite and least favorite looks from the comfort of my own home. I’ll be using what I call the Normie Scale—a combined point average that accounts for visual pleasance, theme adherence, and Non-Normality—before sharing my top 10 outfits of the night. A perfect outfit should look nice, stay on theme, and not be something a normal person could wear (I’m not watching the Met Gala carpet for something I can see at a standard NYC prom!).

Honorable Mentions:

1. Doechii – 4.6. This is an elevated and exaggerated take the Afrocentric Black woman and I love it

2. Lala Anthony – 4.2. I love the embroidery and beadwork. It feels almost like a quilt, nodding to the often-forgotten textile arts.

3. Hudson Williams – 4. His hair and makeup were stunning! Aika Flores is an icon.

4. Elieen Gu – 3.8. The dress blew bubbles! It’s a very simple silhouette, but the dress blew freaking bubbles! I will say, a very craft cosplayer could and probably has made this.

1. Beyonce

Total Score: 5/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 5

My Thoughts: Beyonce hasn’t been to the Met Gala for about 10 years now, and she came back this time to make a statement. Beyonce’s costumes have always be extremely detailed and well themed for her concerts, so I fully expected a wonderful showing from her. Looking at her outfit, specifically her headpiece, reminded me of ancient Central American sundials and the circular calendars.

2. SZA

Total Score: 5/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 5

My Thoughts: Wow! Wow wow wow! In her interview, SZA says that her outfit was meant to convey the divine feminine, and I’m inclined to agree. The flowers, gems, and bright yellow color evoke a wave of warmth and happiness, and I found myself smiling every time I looked at her.

3. Anna Hathaway

Total Score: 5/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 5

My Thoughts: My last perfect score of the night. It’s Anne Hathaway. Michael Kors said it during their interview, Anne is his Grecian urn. She’s a work of art in this dress.

4. Ciara

Total Score: 4.9/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 4.75

My Thoughts: Ciara is a representation of the iconic statue of Queen Nefertiti. Her hair is style to stand straight up and back like Nefertiti’s crown, and the gold ornaments complement that. The only reason her score isn’t perfect is the dress. While beautiful, golden beaded dresses are everywhere.

5. Audrey Nuna

Total Score: 4.9/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 4.75

My Thoughts: I’m not familiar with Audrey Nuna, but I’m about to be. I caught my first glimpse of her outfit during the vogue livestream, when my mother pointed her out. We couldn’t see her face or much of her outfit, btu I was intrigued by the Pollack style splatters. When I finally got the see the full thing, I gasped. The hat, the black lip, the silhouette; I love it all. It lost 0.1 points simply basted on the fact that I can bet $100 that some rich, old lady in Manhattan owns the same coat.

6. Wisdom Kaye

Total Score: 4.9/5

Visuals: 4.75

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 5

My Thoughts: If I’m on a social media platform, I follow Wisdom Kaye on it. Wisdom oozes creativity and his take on the classic (boring) black tux is amazing. The stiff, rounded shape of the legs keeps it from feeling boxy in the way most suits do (and it kinda gives me Teletubbies vibes). He’s not afraid of taking risks and making it work, which is why he’s the first man to break top 10 for this list.

7. Anok Yai

Total Score: 4.8/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 4.5

My Thoughts: The dress is very simple but it has its purpose in this outfit. The focus is her face and the bronze make up that turns her into a living statue. The black hood allows you to focus in on her face, drowning out whatever is happening around her. A’ja Wilson did something similar with gold painted hands, but Anok does it better.

8. Janelle Monae

Total Score: 4.7/5

Visuals: 4

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 5

My Thoughts: I had high hopes for Janelle Monae, and they really came through! It’s a blend of mechanical and natural that can be commenting on the state of e-waste in the world or on how nature and technology can work together.

9. Gwendolyn Christie

Total Score: 4.6/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 4

My Thoughts: is it okay to just say I love tall women. Gwendolyn Christie gathered an exception team of designers and artist to put this look together and she is stunning. I would say more but I’m genuinely about to hit Substack’s email length limit.

10. Luke Evans

Total Score: 4.6/5

Visuals: 5

Theme: 5

Non-Normality: 4

My Thoughts: I said two things, out loud, upon seeing Luke Evans. The first was “Is that Luke Evans?” and the second was “Is he a Tom of Finland illustration!”. I discovered the artist Tom of Finland as an over eager high-schooler who had no business looking at the illustrations he made. His works were explicit, but they were obviously hyper-masculine gay erotica. I was excited to see Luke Evans represent a gay artist, dressed in the leather jacket and pants that commonly appeared in Tom of Finland’s work.

1

As I have been exploring fashion that I enjoy, I’ve come across of few brands that make me want to keep looking even if I can’t have it. There’s nothing wrong with looking, right?

Matoshi’s designs are still some of my favorites, but I’m finding a few others that, right now, don’t miss.

1. Tanner Fletcher

I literally discovered Tanner Fletcher while scrolling through TikTok during New York Bridal Fashion Week earlier this month. As someone with no prospects, I have no reason to go to any live shows for bridal wear, but what did we say earlier? There’s nothing wrong with looking. And look I did! A video from Johnmvilla (@johnmvilla2) had me racing to Instagram to see what Tanner Fletcher had to offer. The Happily Ever After collection is some of the cutest and whimsical fashion I’ve seen in a while. Each piece is decorated with beautiful florals, fun piping, eye-catching brocade, or all three.

I spent the next hour looking through their Instagram page, trying my best to not like anything older than three months. I noticed, very quickly, the repeated use of patterned fabric, delicate colors, lace, and bows. Dainty little details that made me smile and kick my feet as I imagined how cute I’d be in them.

2. Annie’s Ibiza

Once again, I have been influenced by social media. The day after I started this blog, a friend of mine posted a video from an Annie’s show on their story. Intrigued, I clicked on it. Suddenly, I was transported to a fantasy kingdom where everything was vaguely historically inspired, but also extremely modern in a way that would have YouTube fashion historians in a tizzy. I loved it immediately.

At over $5,000 a pop, I will never be able to buy one of these dresses, but I said what I said. There’s nothing wrong with looking. Return to Self, as the collection is called, is a riot of opulent color. I am particularly fond of the Honey Empire Gown with the matching cape. Both are absolutely drenched in intricate beadwork and embroidery. Truly fit for a queen.

3. Emmy Design

Unlike the first two brands on this list—with some smart financial decisions—I could actually afford clothes from Emmy Designs. The brand, focused solely on high quality vintage styling, is an honest glimpse into what I want my daily wardrobe to look like. I want high-waisted trousers and tailored waistcoats; I want 100% wool cardigans over spear collared shirts and colorful neckties.

My favorite thing about Emmy Designs is that it feels grounded, for me. It’s a dream that’s attainable. It’s not a 5 year-old screenshot on my phone of a dress that has been discontinued. I can look like their models; I can have those clothes. And, until I start making those smart financial decisions, I’ll just be looking.

4. Memery

Memery is truly the odd one out on this list. I have the most history with Memery and they are, by far, my favorite when it comes to shoes. I’ve followed them on socials for a while, at least three years at this point, and they’re actually the only brand on this list where I own their product. My first purchase was the 1920s Everyday Walking Boot, which I followed up with the 1950s Julia pump about two years later.

Now, this is a wonder for me. Why? Because I’m almost 6 feet tall and I wear a size 12 (11 ½ if I can get my hands on a wide-width pair). The fact that I own a pair of vintage recreation leather pumps (and I’m talking real leather) from these guys is perfection. Girls with big feet lose out on so many cute shoes, especially the girls who are into niche fashion. Memery fills a gap for my fellow LaCienega Boulevardezes who want the stuff on our feet to look as good as the rest of the outfit.

I can’t wait for this list to grow. I’m having so much fun immersing myself in fashion and discovering designers I didn’t know about. Feel free to share any designers/brands (doubly so if they make shoes in my size; PLEASE!)

Unfashionably,

Synovia

I’m tired of the marketing wonder that is “vegan” leather; it’s just an amalgamation of plastic hoping to (poorly) imitate the skin of an animal. Because vegan leather is plastic; it’s polyester; its plant matter mixed with synthetic resins. I know a lot of people are caught up on the “animal” part of natural leather, but it is as a material the most sustainable option.

(Note: I am specifically talking about leather made from livestock animals like cows, sheep, and goats. These are the most traditional leathers as well as my favorites. I will not talk about, or support, clothing made from exotic animals like wildcats and reptiles.)

So, let’s get into this.

Carbon Material

Carbon content refers to how much of the leather is natural: made of carbon. In animal leather, that number is almost always 100%. With the exception of genuine leather, the lowest quality of animal-based leather you can purchase, real leather will have no additives or emulsifiers keeping it together. This means the material is completely biodegradable and, as a finished product, will not add to the plastic pollination currently plaguing us.

Plastic and plant-based “leathers” are always made up of some non-carbon material; these are non-biodegradable and are often considered “difficult to recycle” (Pangaia).

Some options are better than others. Apple leather is made 50% non-biodegradable materials while Mushroom leather is made of 20% non-biodegradable materials. Pineapple leather (Piñatex) would have been a great option, as for almost every step in its production, all materials are plant based and biodegradable; that is until the final stage, when the entire thing is combine with a non-biodegradable polyurethane resin to make it stronger. But, that doesn’t compare to a product we know is 0% non-biodegradable materials.

Durability

Unlike animal leather, vegan leather of all kinds is significantly less durable. While we know what animal leather can be preserved and used for at least 100 years, the strongest vegan leathers have a lifespan of only 10.

The worst vegan leather, the ones that are purely plastic, may last a year or less before they start to flake and peel. Once this starts, it can’t be stopped or fixed. That garment is trash now. (Peeling can also happen with low-quality animal leathers like Genuine Leather but can be mitigated or prevented with leather conditioners and proper care.)

The best option, though more expense, would be a good quality top grain leather product. This product, with proper care, will last the longest, saving you money in the long run. In Sociology, we talk about Boot Theory in relation to socioeconomic unfairness. It’s the idea that a wealthy man can afford to purchase high quality boots that will last for 10 years or so, while a poor man can only afford a subpar pair of boots that he will need to replace every year. In the long term, the poor man will have had spent more money than his wealthy counterpart because he has to keep buying replacements.

Vegan leather is turning all of us into the poor man. Just last week, I was forced to throw away a leather jacket I was gifted because the peeling had gotten so bad that I couldn’t hide it. I tried to have my craftier friends repair it or conceal the damage, but nothing worked. Now, if I want a leather jacket, I will have to buy a new one. And if I go for the most accessible option, another vegan leather piece, I’ll find myself in the same predicament again next year.

Production Sustainability

Now, this is where animal leather loses. Because of the demands of fast-fashion, consumerism, and factory farming, creating animal leather is no longer sustainable. The production of plant leather, specifically, has a significantly smaller carbon footprint than animal leather, because animal leather is tied to the carbon footprint of the largescale cattle farming industry as well as meat processing plants… So not great.

It will take a lot of effort, time, and advocacy to get leather production to a level of sustainability that will make us all happy.

Your Options

Buy good quality, sustainable animal leather from a reputable source. Companies like Parker Clay receive their leather as a natural byproduct of local farms; when an animal on the farm naturally dies, their skin is used to make Parker Clay products.

For those who still aren’t on my side about leather, your best option is Cactus leather. Confirmed to last about 10 years, Cactus leather is the strongest and most biodegradable vegan leather option, at 92% plant material. On the environmental side, the harvesting of cactus leaves to make the leather leaves the plant intact, as it will continue to grow after leaves have been cut. And without the need for herbicides and pesticides, the ecosystem the leaves are harvested from is chemically unharmed.

Am I a leather expert? No. Do I have a lot of opinions? Yes. I hope you at least enjoyed these ones.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

It wasn’t until my trip to Scotland in 2024 that I realized that I had come to love skirts, specifically midi A-line and circle skirts reminiscent of the 1940’s. My intense dance with historical fashion had spit me out at the intersection of the 1940’s war era and the remnants of the fading Cottagecore trend. If I’m honest, it might have come off as more 1980’s with my canvas cross-body bag and my platform Maryjanes, but I was into it.

On August 24^th, I found myself on the Bridge of Sighs at the entrance of the Glasgow Necropolis: a grand cemetery that is still, somehow 100 times smaller (literally) than the Calvary Cemetery in Queens. It’s not too cold, but it’s chilly compared to the typical August weather I’m used to. I’m walking around, admiring the view of the grass and headstones, when I find it. Off the gravel road, passed rows and rows of lives lived and lost, I’m taken to the top of the Bridge of Sighs. There is an unkempt set of stone steps that bring me there, wet and dangerous from the light rain we got that morning, but I make it down safety.

The wind is blowing, ruffling my skirt just the right way, and the sun is beam down on me like she’s smiling. I know what I have do. I set up my tripod, adjust my camera, and open the Bluetooth app that allows me to use my phone as a remote. I take the following pictures:

Unbeknownst to me, I had just taken my favorite pictures from the entire trip, in my favorite outfit from said trip. The outfit fits the mood of visiting a vast cemetery, black with pops of brown and cream; my friends said I looked like a witch, but a very kind man in the cemetery said I looked like Death herself.

And isn’t that what every girl wants to hear? That her style and presence is so becoming that it only makes sense to compare her to a mystical being? That her beauty and confidence make her unearthly and magical?

During that trip, I wore a skirt almost every time I went out, and I felt beautiful. There was something about knowing that I had found my sense of style—or at least a style I really enjoyed—that overwhelmed me with confidence. I was in a foreign country on my own, where no one knew me, and I could be, in some ways, the most stylish version of myself.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

To the knowledgeable, Fashion sprinkles bits and pieces of onto each individual, allowing a person to build those pieces into something that reflects who they are: their style. In the wise words of the fictional Miranda Priestly, “…in 2002, Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns… and then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of eight different designers. Then it filtered down through the department stores and then trickled on down into some tragic casual corner where you, no doubt, fished it out of some clearance bin” (The Devil Wears Prada).

It’s a harsh way to say it, but Miranda is right. Every garment, and I mean every single one, stems from something that is or was fashionable. And Andy Sachs, like so many of us Normies, has little consideration for how what’s “in fashion” influences our individual styles.

Realistically, not everyone’s style is influenced by modern fashion, even if their options are. In high school, I created as flow chart that displayed how my 16-year-old brain connected the influences of my AP Art History Class to the styles and aesthetics of my friends. Scribbled onto a stained sheet of copy paper, I created the “Art Hoe to Hobbit Pipeline.” The chart acted as a justification of my classmates’ exploration and interest in Victorian architecture and the medieval revival of the early 2000s—connecting us all back to Cottagecore and the Hobbit way of life.

In my modern interpretation of this “pipeline”, I’ve added off-shoots for Goths, weird Percy Jackson kids, Historical Fantasy nerds, and Cottagecore’s evil sister: Trad-wife. I know there are a thousand different styles that I’ve omitted (Goth can be broken into almost 10 subtypes right off the top of my head), but this chart is still heavily influenced by my observations of my friends as well as my own style.

For myself and my friends, our senses of style were heavily influenced by what was considered fashionable in the past. Between the lot of us in 2017 there was a replica of a 1940s English peacoat from World War II, a genuine 1960s pencil skirt, replica pleather bell bottoms, 90s graphic tees, and even a cape coat. We were an eccentric looking bunch, and while we had our own styles, we were never anything near fashionable. We were taking what Fashion gave us and making something that made us feel good.

Now, why is this important for the Normies of the world? That good feeling you get in your stomach when an outfit feels like you. That’s appreciation.

Even if you don’t care about the designer or the frivolity of Capital F-Fashion, the work of the seamsters and the tailors that turn these drawings into real garments that make you feel good, they deserve appreciation. You don’t have to become obsessed with fashion to find what makes you feel good and show love for it. That’s what a good outfit is, a stylist outfit; it’s a display of appreciate for the people that brought the individual pieces into existence; it’s a display of the appreciation you have for yourself and your expression.

In a time when everything is created, as discarded, quickly, we need to stop and appreciate. In high school, I hated clothes and being fashionable because I didn’t appreciate Fashion. I didn’t appreciate the creators enough to make the Fashion personal, to make it stylish. Like Andy, Fashion was something that around me, something that didn’t touch me. But Fashion touches every garment and I was stubborn and bit delusional.

The need to be different from other girls my age—and that is a whole can of worms about the misguided attempts of rejecting traditional femininity—made me indifferent to myself and what I liked. As a 25-year-old, almost 10 years later, I can happily admit to loving Fashion. I love beautiful clothes; I love opaque fabrics and heavy furs; I love structured bodices and stiff collars; I love glasses chains and body jewelry; I love appreciating.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

It was the first time I had fallen in love the idea of clothes being more that just something to cover my body.

At 16, I made the trip from my home in Queens to the Frick Collection in Manhattan; I needed to see more. There, I found the work of Francios Boucher, a French artist who lived in the 18^th century. Boucher’s work in the Frick did not show off the overdecorated gowns that I had seen in class. Instead, he focused on somewhat plain dresses which he enhances with his use of light and brush strokes.

I was in love. I wanted to be one of the women in those paintings, in a dress so beautiful that its simplicity didn’t take away from it. I wanted petticoats and stays and leather slippers. I wanted luxury; I wanted fashion.

That day, I went home with a small post card from the Frick gift-shop, a copy of Boucher’s “THE FOUR SEASONS: AUTUMN” printed on it. That night, I watched my first Historical Fashion Video.

I quickly found myself neck deep in Historical Costuming and Living videos on YouTube. I found myself engrossed in British Baker’s “Victorian Bakers” series and Morgan Donner’s corset reconstruction efforts. Bernadette Banner was, and still is, my favorite content creator, building her platform on recreating historical clothing using historical methods. Under these influences, my interest shifted from the beauty of the clothes to the technicality of the designs.

In historical fashion, many design choices were for practicality. Separate bodices and skirts allowed for a process known as “piecing” that minimized fabric waste; full, voluminous winter gowns hid layers of woolen petticoats. Not so suddenly, Fashion lost in sense of uselessness. My initial disinterest in Fashion stemmed from the idea that clothes, and luxury clothes, were a waste of time, energy, and money. I didn’t grow up wealthy, and I upset me to watch my mother save up for expensive outfits and shoes that had no practical use.

But Fashion didn’t start when I was born. Fashion didn’t start when my mother bought her first luxury handbag. No, Fashion started hundreds of years ago, and I needed to go back to understand it. There was purpose to the cuts and shapes of a garment—practicality.

When I think of the practicality of historical clothes, specifically, anything before the 20^th century, I think of corsets. I know corsets are their own controversial topic (I will likely get into that in another post) but corsets were extremely practical.

As a garment, the corset acted similar to the modern longline bra, providing breast and back support and creating the desired silhouette. It was a support garment, worn by women of all social classes, and modern women who still wear corsets today love them. I, personally, really love the shape and style of 19^th century corsets, like this one from the late 1860’s.

Now, we would call a corset like this an overbust corset, because it extends to cover the wearer’s chest, but modern overbust corsets tend to fully cover the chest in a way that a Victorian corset wouldn’t. Victorian corsets weren’t to contain you or squeeze you in; (with the exception to the dangerous trend of tightlacing) corsets were simply there to lift and hold. In many cases, pregnant women wore specially made corsets that provided extra support for their growing stomachs and aching backs.

Even children (mostly rich girls and boys) wore corsets: un-boned, cloth things that acted similarly to an undershirt. These children’s corsets came with little buttons that allowed mothers to button the child’s skirts or trousers to the garment. This redistributed the weight the sometimes heavy garment and allowed the child to move freely.

When I think of practicality in modern clothes, I think of the adjustable waistbands on children’s pants. We’ve accepted that children change size and shape frequently and should be accommodated in their clothing, so they get little elastic bands and buttons that alter their pants to fit them. This isn’t really something that we commonly have in adult clothing, but I’ve found something similar: a vintage skirt I bought from a thrift store in Brooklyn years ago (before it was cool).

The skirt, an army green CHAUS piece from the 1980’s, with deep pockets, a line of functional buttons down the front, and—most importantly—an adjustable waist. It is, to this day, the only skirt that I do not have to jump into, zip up, or pray still fits when my weight fluctuates.

The waistband, shown above, has a tab on either side-seam that buttons to the back of the skirt. Undoing these tabs gives me about an inch or two on either side, allowing the skirt to shift with me as my weight changes. In the image, you can see that I added two wooden buttons so the skirt could fit me at my smallest size. With my adjustments, this skirt can fit me if my waist is 30 inches or 36 inches. A full six inches of range thanks to two flaps of fabric!

This all comes back to the practicality of Fashion. Clothes can be practical, but Fashion usually isn’t. In recent years, I have changed my mind about the usefulness of Fashion (Fashion is art; it makes a statement; it tells a story; it has a purpose), but I don’t know how I feel about its lack of practicality.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

You’re reading this, and two hours ago I finished my first ever ice-skating lesson.

I signed up for the classes on what I call a whim—a friend of mine wanted to do it and didn’t give me at least 4 to 5 business weeks to mull it over before we paid for it. We had spoke about it before, skating classes that is, but I was apprehensive. So, a few weeks ago we checked out the rink’s website, visited the rink during our lunch break, and signed up for the classes all in one afternoon.

So, what does my newfound ice-skating talent have to do with anything? Sports in Fashion. With the Winter Olympics over, the Paralympics starting on March 6^th (Support Para-athletes!), and hockey taking over everyone and everything for good and bad reasons, I’ve found myself drawn to the coexistence of fashion and sport.

There are amazing examples in NBA tunnel outfits, Serena Williams’ iconic bodysuit, and Naomi Osaka at the 2026 Australian Open, but I want to talk about winter sports and Milan Fashion Week.

For those of us who have recently indulged in Heated Riv—I mean hockey—you’ve probably seen Hudson Williams’ runway debut in Milan (which I mentioned previously), where he walked for Dsquared2. Started by twin brothers, Dan and Dean Caten of Toronto, Canada, Dsquared2 is an Italian fashion label that blends fine craftsmanship with fun and exciting design. The label is self-described as a melding of “Sporty and Glamorous.”

This is exactly what was presented on the runway during Milan Fashion Week. The show, and the pieces, were themed after winter sports, with models in puffer jackets, parkas, and knitwear. My favorite pieces were the boots. Both male and female models were styled in stunning boots that were probably hell to walk in. On the male models, shin-high ski-boots were donned over jeans or with puffer shorts (yes, I said puffer shorts!).

The female models were outfitted in what I think is called a heelless pump. It is a boot! Again, very ski inspired, but it has no heel and the model is impressively at least 5 inches off the ground. Just look at them!

And I know heelless heels are not new, but I’m impressed by anyone who can make a heeled boot with no heel and make it stable to walk in.

Both sets of boots were designed with the sharp angles and metallic clasps of sports gear, bringing a fun and edgy look to the snow-covered runway. As someone who does not like Winter, winter sports, or the whispers of snow, I loved this show. This line made me yearn for the cold, for the chance to wear some of these amazing pieces and dominate Winter. This line made me bite the bullet and sign up for skating classes. Call me Ice Princess.

Now, on a scale of Normie to Fashionista Yes Gawd, most of these outfits didn’t feel far out of my reach. Maybe this is the New York girl in me, but I could imagine seeing some of these pieces out on the streets. As a brand, Dsquared2 feels approachable in its style; I didn’t feel intimidated watching this show or like I couldn’t imagine myself in some of the clothes.

The line is a great mix of demin, knitwear, athletic wear, and winter staples (and funky hats that I can’t get enough of) that give off an elevated but casual tone. Could I pull it off like these models did; no, probably not, but I would still feel confident in them and that’s good enough for me.

With that, I ask that you indulge alongside me! You can see more of the shots from this show on Dsquared2’s website or you can watch the full show on YouTube.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

In honor of New York Fashion Week, which has just wrapped up, here’s some research I did into the event I’m not famous enough to be invited to.

New York Fashion Week (NYFW) is a biannual event, occurring in February and September of each year. The Shows, as they are referred to on the NYFW website, are the stage in which designers display their contributions to American fashion. The modern version of this event, organized by the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA), was started in 1993, but is based on several other Fashion events in New York City.

In 1903, what is considered America’s first Fashion show was held at the Ehrich Brothers specialty store in New York. The show was put on by the store as a marketing strategy, hoping to bring in middle class women as a customer base. In the coming years, fashion shows would explode in popularity, becoming a major way for department stores to show off their existing or incoming stock. It’s not until decades later that we see the beginning of what would be NYFW.

Eleanor Lambert (1903-2003), a fashion publicist, is credited with the creation of NYFW in 1943 (or at least the concept of it). At the time, she was the Press Director of the New York Dress Institute. The event, then known as Press Week, was hosted in hopes of boosting American fashion during World War II. It was seen, according to Amanda Fortini, as “a bid to overthrow the sartorial tyranny of the French.” With France occupied by the German regime, America could show that it was not dependent on French Fashion.

Even then, Press Week was an exclusive event, with invites going to designers, celebrities, and folks with overwhelming notoriety. This was an effort to force ignorant fashion journalist to acknowledge the work of American designers. Paris couldn’t produce new fashion trends, London couldn’t produce new fashion trends, Milan couldn’t produce new fashion trends, so New York said “Look at Me!”

For the foreseeable future, NYFW was simply a collection of shows happening within the same time frame across the city. It isn’t until 1993, with the CFDA and its then executive director Fern Mallis, that all the Shows would occur in the same place, changing the event into what we currently think of as New York Fashion Week.

The modern NYFW shows are still invite only events, displaying star-studded first rows. But, with everything I learned, I thought back to the ads I was getting on Instagram going back to last winter, in early 2025. These ads were for NYFW shows that were not tied to the “main event”. Accessible shows, shows that are technically not connected to the CFDA, continue to pop up all-over New York. These shows, in my uneducated opinion, are gateways for “poor” people who love Fashion – fledgling designers and newbie fashion journalists and people like me… the Normies.

So, how do us Normies fit into NYFW? Technically, we don’t. We’re meant to be distant spectators or, for those who have the money, potential customers. We’re there to gawk at the innovations being displayed, post about seeing our favorite actor in the front row, to drum up business. Let’s not forget, this is marketing.

And don’t let me be a hypocrite. I was reposting pictures of Hudson Williams in Milan just like everyone else. I am not immune to the lure that is the marking of any Fashion Week; I just wish it was more accessible. A great example of this is the video feed of The Shows on www.nyfw.com that has since been removed because they’re over. The best way to watch The Shows now would be on YouTube, where independent content creators have taken to posting.

These YouTube videos are the Normies’ way “in” the NYFW, allowing us to glimpse into the opulence, but we can change that. Normies, unlike the rich and ultra-wealthy who are invited to NYFW, can support our local designers and go to these smaller shows. Some shows are free, others have tickets available in a variety of price ranges. Either way, we should all be watching a show come September—I know I will.

Unfashionably,

Synovia

This girl looked like you dipped her in the amalgamation of skater girl poser, as if the rich history of fashion wasn’t pouring out all around her. She “wasn’t like other girls.” So scared of femininity and what others would think of her that she refused to embrace the thing she loved so much. Her contrarianism is her bane now; a girl who grew to love fashion but now knows nothing about it.

Now, she must learn on her own.

Welcome to Unfashionable: A Normie’s Exploration of Fashion and the Fashion Industry, a space where I, a Normie, explore everything that Fashion (with a capital F) has to offer. I’ve missed many learning opportunities already, let’s not lose any more.

Unfashionably,

Synovia.