Nostalgia is the only thing I like about clothes

And other thoughts on where fashion goes when it's out of fashion.

Last week, I received a text from my friend and editor Sarah Spellings about a t-shirt she bought: a brown, black and white striped, slightly oversized knit shirt from TWP. Sarah described it as “crush core” — she would know, as she was the editor for the Vogue piece we collaborated on about dressing like your crush back in 2022. Her text reminded me of the thing I enjoy most about fashion, which I seemed to have forgotten: I like fashion most when it’s nostalgic and reminds me of a person or place or time. For me, fashion is at its best when my outfit inspires me to text someone, like Sarah did, to tell them I’m channeling something specific and that it reminds me of them.

The reason crush dressing was, and still is, compelling to me is because it exemplifies this flavor of nostalgia. To dress in this way means you are channeling a person—a literal or hypothetical individual—and dressing as an ode to them. It’s a form of getting dressed that makes you daydream and feel connected to something or someone besides the self. It sounds mushy, but if you think about it, it’s where every designer goes when creating a new collection. At the root of all fashion is nostalgia. It’s easy to forget about these emotions amid the pace of today’s industry. The internet and pomp of fashion tend to wash away the beautiful simplicity of clothing and the reason, beyond function, we make them at all: to feel something.

A few recent examples of designers channeling a person or specific era and thus evoking a feeling through clothing: The Row’s latest lookbook channels vintage portraiture. The styling reminds me of the outfits one might see in the pages of Take Ivy, a book published in Japan in 2010 that pays homage to American ivy dressing; Wales Bonner’s spring 2026 collection channels Dandyism and Superfine style—the theme of May’s Met Gala; Bode’s latest presentation told a story about the life of Morris “Moose” Charlap, famed American composer, for whom the collection was dedicated. “I design all of my collections from personal memories and stories,” Emily Bode told Vogue. “When you think about your childhood and what kind of impressions you are left with, it can be the day to day, but it’s also very specific fragments of memories that we play over and over and over again.” The entire collection was presented on fabric dolls that almost look as though they are acting out different scenes of a life.

I’ve felt out of step with clothes for several months. There’s a distance growing there for me. I like fashion, but I don’t consider myself to be a true historian or even connoisseur. I can reference old shows, but I can’t rattle off more than ten of them or recite designer lore—I reserve that space for my friends and peers who love and study fashion in that way. I respect that expertise. Sometimes I wish I had that dedication to the game, but it wouldn’t be genuine for me to pretend that’s how I relate to clothing.

While a distance between me and fashion grows, emotion keeps me close to clothing. I might tune out shows and newness for months, but I can still feel moved by a specific way of getting dressed. I’ll still obsess over a certain idea of dressing, like prairie core or all-whites, and what they symbolize. Here’s a simpler way to describe what I mean: I will get more excited about an old, striped Gap t-shirt that reminds me of my childhood than I do about a runway show that signals a fashion house’s return to a specific era. The two are related, no doubt. The later is certainly interesting to me, but the former moves me.

To add to my own out-of-stepness with clothing, it’s always been true the fashion loses its relevance in times of uncertainty. It’s hard to find importance in clothes, or even get inspired by them, when the world is rife with conflict. And as a result, it’s hard for fashion to stay afloat in those times. Earlier this year, I wrote about the most iconic post-war accessories for The New York Times, and in my research and interviews, I learned that houses like Chanel and Ferragamo shut down briefly during WWII. Fashion will ebb and flow for eternity. Its precariousness as an industry is a tale as old as time. But we will always need to get dressed.

I can still find something to grab onto in a Vogue runway slideshow. The aforementioned collections from The Row, Bode, and Wales Bonner make me think that I’m kidding myself and that of course I like this stuff. But when I keep scrolling through the endless shows, I’m reminded that there’s too much of it, that all together it feels wasteful. I go back to wondering if it’s just not my thing. And as always, I come back to my little world of getting dressed—either as my crush, in a way that reminds me of a friend, or in a style that transports me to another time.

Crush Dressing and 90s Stripes

A few things doing it for me right now…

1. Gap Apron-Neck Tank: I have endless memories of wearing apron-neck tanks from Gap kids back in the day (Below, the Gap shopping edits I made when I was nine). I’m also obsessed with the 90s stripe.

2. Flore Flore May Cami: Another take on the apron-neck tank. I love this tank because it’s thick and holds everything in and makes it easy to go braless. The baby pink is my go to right now.

3. Everyone’s Mother Garden Skirt: I paid a visit to designer Emma Larimer’s studio about a year ago and bought this skirt. I wear it… all the time. With Danskos or garden clogs, I’m transported to a faraway cabin via my outfit alone.

4. mfpen Wrap Skirt: I bought this on my last visit to Copenhagen. It’s in the realm of Emma’s Garden Skirt. Another fuss-free piece evoking ‘90s cool.

5. Nili Lotan Janah Sweater: I’m currently wearing a Margiela v-neck from The Real Real, but this is a good comp. The navy v-neck sweater with a white crew neck tee popping out is a look my boyfriend put me onto that I now can’t get over.

6. Vintage Gap Athletic Tee: I recently bought one of these and I reach for it several times a week.

7. Dansko Clogs: Just basic goodness.

8. Michael Morrison Belts: I recently got one on eBay and love to wear it with jeans and a hoodie. Something unexpected.

9. Liv Ryan Bungee Pant: Everything Liv Ryan makes is special and thoughtful. I bought a pair of her pants (the striped drawstring ones at the top of this newsletter) but I love these bungee ones. They remind me of the Jennifer Aniston cargo pants Liana Satenstein recently wrote about.

10. Havianas Classic Flip Flops: This is where the 2000s Roxy girl in me comes out. We all know it’s board shorts season. But the most classic flip flops will always perpetuate the feeling of summer.

Okay, here are the Gap outfit collages I made when I was 9. More cute stuff forever <3