Recession Glam
This spring I thought I would want to spend the summer in blingy looks and bright colors. I collected vintage Blumarine: tacky Y2K leopard prints in silk and spandex, a denim hobo purse accented with blue suede stained grey by the sweat of the previous owner, and a ruffly mid-length Carrie Bradshaw-inspired floral skirt that made it onto my Instagram feed even though I only wore it once. I should have known better than to try to revert to some mature version of my 2017 self, but more importantly, I should have listened to my inner calling; which was to succumb to a wardrobe of black and neutral tones, big sunglasses and bigger purses — a look I like to call recession glam.
Recession glam is for celebrities who LARP as poor, but it’s also for broke girls who want to look like celebrities. It’s Anna Bolina’s reconstructed vintage fur vests and mis-printed tube tops-cum-dresses that say “WHO ARE WE TRYING TO IMPRESS/DO WHATEVER YOU WANT NO ONE GIVES A FUCK.” But it's also peak-pandemic Mary-Kate smoking a cigarette with her $10,000 purse on the dirty New York City sidewalk, and sloppily cropped wife beaters from the bodega paired with horse hoof boots by Dion Lee. It’s dressing sexy for the apocalypse. It's main character energy.
But what about the whole roaring 20s thing? The over-the-top flamboyant looks that were supposed to accompany the excess of parties and spending that seem to define our collective re-emergence this summer (at least in NYC.) It’s been proven that during times of economic optimism, heels tend to get higher, as do hemlines. But in uncertain times, when there is more hope for some than others, it’s nearly impossible to predict the trends — glamorous or not. Covid may be over in the liberal, urban sections of America, but a general feeling of malaise, and an awareness that the slow apocalypse is steadily burning remains.
For the nihilists among us, or those still without a job, dressing in sequins and brightly colored garments isn’t only gauche in it’s celebration of excess and waste, but it also fails to reflect our lived experience. For us, the “roaring 20s” aesthetic mirrors the myopia of the present, not unlike the pride flag being co-opted by corporate America, or a fake smile in the face of loss and PTSD. It’s like a basic bitch stomping around SoHo in a big skirt and reflective sunglasses, or a rich girl at Sel Rrose wearing kelly green Bottega Veneta accessories. All of these phenomena are meant to evoke a feeling of hope, or at least of celebration. But with the current global climate these looks seem to offer little more than a bright light does for a lonely bug. They're an attraction for overworked eyes, a hollow space at which to stare, or at most: an invitation to follow an aspiring it-girl on the feed.
This is not to say that there isn’t room for excess or celebration in times of strife (recession glam is glamorous after all.) But there are ways in which one can evoke a feeling of liberation without falling victim to unbridled optimism. For the wealthy, it’s the doomsday looks from Demna Gvasalia’s latest Balenciaga collections, or more “affordable” luxury items from brands like Dion Lee or Ottolinger, who seem to want everyone to look hot for our day of reckoning, like video games characters might.
For me, recession glam is a mish-mash of ubiquitous items (i.e. Realtree Bae Crocs and bike shorts from Amazon) and inexpensive designer pieces circa the last great recession; like the slouchy Ghesquière boots I recently bought but cannot walk in, or celebrity favorites like Dior glossy sunglasses and the Balenciaga city bag (which all the cool girls in New York seem to be wearing this season). Together, it’s a mix of oversized, over-the-top accessories paired down with inexpensive staples that elicit an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Think wasted Lindsday Lohan leaving the club with Samantha Ronson in 2009, or Rick Owens posting a sloppy selfie video with Michelle Lamy.
I already sold most of my Blumarine collection to James Veloria, but I kept a few pieces: including a leopard print long sleeve top fit with a trompe l'oeil bow and rhinestones in the shape of the brand’s name. The truth is, I know better than to fully commit to any trend, regardless of whether or not the recession is still in season.