Got ca$h woes? Put on your spiffy duds
For a generation without much to hope for, dressing nicely has become a way to strive for better times.
BY: Briony Smith
“Ooh!” I squealed as I clicked on a friend’s Facebook link to the New York magazine piece “Sucks to be us: Coming of age in post-hope America.” Another story about my generation’s certain doom. The feature was accompanied by a slide show of twentysomethings whose lives had been mangled by the economy. Each of them had been photographed with a piece of tape stretched across the chest, their worries scrawled out in Sharpie ink: Stuck. Uncertain. Is that all there is? Please don’t fire me. Money ca$h woes.
But that wasn’t what caught my eye—it was what they were wearing. Despite being broke and anxious, many of them looked downright dapper. Their clothes were decidedly grown-up: a delicate floral blouse, a tuxedo blazer, a professorial cardigan, an elegant red jersey dress, crisp chinos.
Dressing well is, after all, one of Generation Y’s coping mechanisms—fake it ’til you make it. Many of my peers are languishing in post-recession slumps. They are sans steady job, without apartment and low on future options. As they hustle for every dollar and gig they can get, crafting a successful persona has become crucial. Luxe-looking outfits are one of the ways to regain a little control, a little confidence. I’ve seen our streets fill with youngsters sporting silk blouses and wool trousers, eager to don something that makes them feel like a legit member of society. It can be difficult to feel like you’ll one day emerge from behind the Starbucks counter if you’re wearing a ripped tank top and jeggings. What better way to strive for better times than dressing for them? If we can’t be certain about our pension or whether we’ll land our dream job, we can be certain that we look put together, even if we’re falling apart.
Fittingly, the fall 2011 runways were full of conservative tweeds and prim frocks, a trend that’s being called “bourgeois chic.” The look has filtered down to every major retailer: an old-fashioned wool cloche hat at Joe Fresh; leopard-print blouses and lace pencil-skirts from The Bay’s budget-friendly line, Moon; Jacob’s camel blazers lined with floral-print cotton; and wool fedoras, pinstriped waistcoats and pocketed shawl-collar cardigans in Le Château’s men’s department.
Our predecessors wore uniforms as a way to cope with the times, too. Just look at the flappers, partying hard enough to forget the Great War in their short, drop-waist dresses. Women soldiered through the Depression with their best shoulder pad forward. And then there was the the optimistic post-war dressing of the late ’40s and ’50s, World War II behind us and the Cold War ahead.
It’s pieces from those eras that are resonating today. In the last six months, vintage shops have opened at a phenomenal rate. 69 Vintage owner Kealan Sullivan has opened two more stores in the past couple years to meet the demand for fur, beautiful wool coats and suits for women, and leather shoes, tailored jackets and classic button-downs for men.
“When I started my vintage business two-and-a-half years ago, the twentysomethings wanted cheap threads and tons of options,” says Sarah Magwood, owner of Magwood vintage boutique. “Now, they’re buying investment pieces. I can’t seem to keep silk blouses or fur hats in stock these days.” It’s armour for the ever-tougher battle for that job, that apartment, that life. “Young people who develop their taste through choosing quality clothing are the type of people who will surely make it because they have an attitude of refinement and success,” says Sullivan.
It was true decades ago when Twain said it and it is even more true today: Clothes make the man (and woman). “Fashion is innately empowering, because you’re in control of what’s projected,” says Magwood. “You can be whoever you want to be, including your ideal self in 10 years.”
And that’s good enough for now.
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