QUIET LUXURY, SCHMIET LUXURY
Here's to Memorable Teachers, Old Clothes, and Simpatico Friends!
Hiya, friends! It “warms the cockles of my heart” that you’re here.
In high school, I had a hilarious and charismatic painting/drawing teacher named Osna Sens. A petite brunette with a chin-length bob and oversized glasses, she’d peer over my shoulder at my work-in-progress self-portrait and say, “Hilary! That nose warms the cockles of my heart, but why is that ear all the way down there in Mexico?”
Osna had a singsongy voice and tons of moxie. Even her name, Osna Sens, with its lovely alliterative rhythm, sounded otherworldly like a distant planet or a cluster of stars. I went to four elementary schools and three high schools (due to my stepdad’s job), so I have trouble recalling many of my former teachers’ names or faces from that era. But Osna Sens looms large. Her paint-splattered smock, groovy specs, and turns-of-phrase are forever seared into my memory.
I did a bit of Googling and found Osna’s website. Still making art, Osna’s wonderful abstract paintings are for sale in case you’re looking to doll up your walls. In her bio (she goes by Osna Bard now), she mentions that she studied with Marc Chagall! Dang, Osna!
To describe her work, she wrote this brief statement, which made me wish I lived in Boston so I could give her a hug: “As I enter my ninth decade, I find myself in one of the most prolific phases of my career. As much as I have been alarmed by the chaos and divisiveness of our times, I have also been energized by them. These works, completed within the last several years, represent my effort to convey the fragility and complexity of our political and natural world.”
QUIET LUXURY, SCHMIET LUXURY
Now onto something much more frivolous. I spotted a few headlines last week about the trend “quiet luxury.” First we had “quiet quitting,” and now “quiet luxury,” and my question is; are these really the most pressing topics that we need to keep quiet about? If we’re so desperate to take down the volume a notch, I’m happy to propose ideas that would really improve global serenity. How about “quiet construction” or “quiet garbage collecting?” Who’s with me? Can I get an A-men?
As for “quiet luxury,” if you’ve managed to avoid this conversation, congratulations. But if you’re at all curious, here’s how The Cut described it in a recent post:
Quiet luxury emphasizes high-quality materials, craftsmanship, and heritage. It rejects logo mania and creates a sense of exclusivity based on the intrinsic value of the product rather than external markers of wealth. Take Mark Zuckerberg’s everyday uniform, which includes what looks like a regular T-shirt that is in fact a custom $300 Brunello Cucinelli. There are the Olsen twins’ off-duty looks, head-to-toe The Row, their own label, whose entire thing is its exquisite, subtle materials and understated design.
And this from Business Insider:
It's one of those "you'll know it when you see it" trends. Quiet luxury is soft and tactile, it's beige and gray, and as Vogue put it, "it's less austere than minimalism but more polished than 'normcore.'"
"Right now, we are living through times that call for that more paired back approach," said Lorna Hall, pointing to shrinking disposable income and a potential recession headed our way; an increased focus on sustainability and conscious consumerism; and fears over job security. — Lorna Hall, director of fashion intelligence at trend-forecasting firm WGSN.
Honestly, I don’t care what celebrities or tech bros spend on their clothes. They’ve got money to burn and if they want to be stealth about it, so be it. But it’s silly to pretend that this trend is about “sustainability, and conscious consumerism; and fears over job security.” If that were the case, then everyone, including starlets, would be buying clothes at resell sites and thrifting instead of supporting the fashion industry, which “produces 150 billion garments a year with 87% (40 million tons) ending up in a landfill where they smolder and pollute the air.” - from Earthday.com.
No, quiet luxury seems to be more about spending a lot of money on your clothes and trying to appear down-to-earth and humble in the process. Fine if that’s your thing, but does the color palette really have to favor beige and gray? Why not just block out the sun and call it a day?
LETS GET LOUD
I, for one, reject the notion that bright colors should be avoided because of the price of eggs. We need colorful clothes, art, people, flowers, birds, cakes, fruit, etc . . . now more than ever to offset the gloom! All the rain we had in LA this winter, that everyone grumbled about, resulted in the superest superbloom in years. Crowds of folks are currently traveling from near and far to frolic in fields of bright orange poppies. I’m pretty certain that beige and gray flowers would not elicit the same enthusiasm.
This quiet luxury trend seems to suggest that moping around in expensive beige and gray outfits makes rich people feel better about their wealth while the rest of the country struggles to pay bills. And speaking of miserable billionaires, several of the stories about quiet luxury referenced the wardrobes worn by the glum characters on the TV show, Succession. Who wants to be like them? Apparently, a lot of people, according to the articles I read. There are even TikTok tutorials on how to achieve the look of quiet luxury by instructing amateurs on “what to wear with what, which brands convey wealth and which type of (capacious) bag will immediately get you shunned from a media mogul’s soirée.”
I really don’t get it. Then again, my fashion icons are bold and loud—people like Iris Apfel (obvs), Janelle Monáe, and Stacy London. Their outfits scream, “I’m fun! Where’s the party?” I imagine the sky crackles and there’s an audible ⚡️KAPOW⚡️ whenever these women enter a room.
MY SNOOPY KNEE SOCKS WERE NOT “ON TREND”
From kindergarten to 3rd grade, I went to an elementary school in West Hollywood called Rosewood with a diverse faculty and student body. I had tons of friends and loved all my teachers.
I never thought about my clothing much at Rosewood, content to wear hand-me-downs from my brother’s friend’s older sister, and whatever my single mom could afford. But in the 4th grade, my mom married a fellow with a good job and we moved to a highfalutin school district.
The natives at this new school—rich girls in rabbit fur coats—eyed me up and down with disdain. I couldn’t help but picture these mean girls of yore when I read about quiet luxury and the idea that “you’ll know it when you see it.” Exclusivity reigns in these circles.
I was only nine-years-old at the time and unaware that my rainbow barrettes, plaid knickers, and Snoopy knee socks weren’t “on trend.” Alas, my classmates treated me like a dented can and ignored my very existence. To make matters worse, my older brother went to live with our dad, which meant he wasn’t around for commiseration or to protect me from the jerks.
Once a happy-go-lucky child of little means, I morphed into Charlie Brown. I dragged myself to school as if lugging around a backpack stuffed with sandbags. At lunchtime, I hid in a stairwell to avoid the humiliation of eating alone. In the evenings, I took to shutting myself in my bedroom closet. My stepfather—a wiry nuclear physicist with a receding hairline and gold-rimmed spectacles—would pad down the carpeted hallway, his leather slippers slapping against his heels. He’d open the closet door, letting in a ray of light, and I’d shrink like a mole person into the rack of clothes. “She’s in the closet again!” he’d shout and leave me there until my mom coaxed me out for dinner.
I learned then that money did not lead to happiness.
Thankfully, in fifth grade, we moved to a nice community in the valley. My brother returned to live with us and I met scores of friendly kids. Life switched from beige and gray to technicolor and the clouds parted. Future moves and more mean girls ensued, but eventually I came into my own, style-wise and discovered the joys of thrifting and old clothes.
IN WITH THE OLD CLOTHES
At 14, I purchased a vintage oversized black men’s blazer that, according to the tag embroidered in the breast pocket, had once belonged to a man named Lyman R. Saunders. My mom called it “the dead rabbi’s coat” and shook her head every time I wore it. I, however, loved the blazer’s versatility and paired it with everything.
I began to delight in unearthing one-off pieces at thrift and resell stores. Unlike the younger, desperate-for-acceptance version of me, I no longer wanted to blend in. Standing out was much more gratifying, hence my love of bright colors and statement pieces.
These days, I’ve given up buying new clothes all together, ever since I heard a radio story last year that it takes 650 gallons of water to make one t-shirt and almost 3,000 gallons to make one pair of jeans. I still buy new undergarments and shoes for sanitary purposes, but everything else is pre-owned.
One of the biggest rewards of shopping second-hand is saving money of course. Why just a couple of weeks ago, I found a very cute Nanette Lepore jacket for $8 and a Zara striped blouse for $10 at the American Cancer Society Charity Shop. #Score. Other benefits include cutting down on water waste and pollution and the occasional compliment on my outfit from a stranger.
SIMPATICO FRIENDS
Though moving multiple times as a kid was a drag, it did make me pretty adept at recognizing a like-minded person in my midst. I ended up forging lifelong friendships with people from almost every town I inhabited.
Recently, I had dinner with three of those friends, one from high school in Boston, one from SF, and one from LA. We stood around after the meal discussing our latest and greatest thrift store finds and it made my heart sing* that we’re so simpatico. If I hadn’t been uprooted in my younger years, I might never have met such kind and wonderful souls. For that I am truly grateful. (*It makes my heart sing is another famous Osna Sens expression.)
MINING FOR FINDS
Below are some of the places my friends and I like to mine for finds in case you’re looking to spruce up the old wardrobe.
The RealReal.com
I’ve had good luck with The RealReal, though a lot of the apparel on the site can be spendy. The trick is to search by price and click the heart icon on items you admire. The longer an item has been listed, the cheaper it becomes. I love that the site includes the measurements for every garment so you can get a real(real) sense of whether it will fit.
Consignment
On my last trip to NY, I stumbled upon the resell shop called Consignment in Brooklyn. There I found a pair of snazzy jeans and two cute tops at bargain prices. I recommend visiting the shop in person when you can because the clothes on the website are crazy expensive, but in store there were deals aplenty.
ThredUP
One of my friends was dressed in head-to-ankle finds from ThredUP, including a very cute Maje jacket. She said the prices have gone up on the site, but it’ll still be cheaper than buying stuff new and better for the planet.
eBay
My other friend said he bought his jeans on eBay. Years ago, I sold some vintage clothes on eBay, but I’d forgotten that it can be a good source for just about anything you need.
And that’s a wrap for this week. If you’re a seasoned thrifter or resell site shopper, I’d love to hear your tips and tricks. Or if you have thoughts about quiet luxury, please share them in the comment section. I’m so curious what other people think.
As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and sharing my posts. I appreciate the support and I think you’re the tops. xo
Is the point of your posts to make one happy?! Because they sure as hell make me happy and I'm here for it every time! Cheers to your quiet alternatives. Also I need to know your old teacher and I love her art! And I loved your first 2 paragraphs, so descriptive. Another one I use is Poshmark for good finds in clothing that have history.
We've all benefited, Hilary, from you developing your own personal sense of style and brightening our lives with your color choices. Who needs the mean girls anyway - except for when Tina Fey writes a funny movie about them?