Friends, it’s time to talk about one of my current pet peeves: “stealth wealth fashion” aka “old money style”.
In case you’ve been blessed to live in a social- and traditional-media-free world, “stealth wealth” is an aesthetic “characterized by material quality, timeless style and superior detailing, with a focus on what makes high-end clothing worthwhile” per Judith Jones in Who What Wear. It’s embodied by the Loro Piana sweaters worn by Gwyneth at her ski trial and the wardrobe of Succession’s Shiv Roy. Of these folks, Jones writes “they’re nonchalantly elegant and coolly collected rather than overtly exhibitionist. They make a statement without having to try to make a statement.”
In other words, they wear clothes that “don’t shout but whisper.” Because, as we have been taught all these years, “money talks, but wealth whispers.” Gag me!
The concept of stealth wealth is not new. As Clara Thorp writes for BBC, it’s about “[b]uying understated products for their quality, beauty and rarity, but not leaving the price tag on (metaphorically speaking) so only those in equally wealthy positions would recognize the monetary value of the item.” Guys, the rich have been doing this since, well, the invention of rich people. Are you even rich if you can’t gatekeep other people? The answer is no. Being subtle about it isn’t a sign of ‘classiness’, no matter what they might want you to believe. After all, the rich buy yachts and private jets too, and those are anything but subtle. The subtlety is extra gatekeeping by way of an inside joke; the more obscure the signal, the easier to miss for the un-initiated. The rich be laughing at the wannabes wearing $500 cashmere sweaters while wearing their $5,000 cashmere sweaters. Stealth wealth occupies an inner circle that will forever be N+1 away for the non-wealthy, N being the outermost limit of reach.
Some people would like to reframe stealth wealth in a more positive way, hypothesizing that “stealth wealth” is trending (again) because, in the midst of financial crisis, “flaunting extreme expressions of wealth looks tone deaf.” I dunno, peeps; Marie Antoinette cosplaying as a shepherdess didn’t stop the French Revolution. Because that’s what it comes down to, you know. In an exploitative system like capitalism, rich people’s cosplay of an average person’s lived experience is always inherently more valuable than the real thing. Thorp reports someone saying (with a straight face) that “King Charles is kind of a fashion icon … [because] he does wear the same clothes kind of forever”. You know, not unlike the average person who doesn’t get millions of tax dollars for merely existing … except totally different. In fact, Tatler magazine “recently named holey socks – as recently spotted on the King – as a stealth wealth symbol.” Read that again. Holey socks. I f*cking can’t.
There are plenty of articles slobbering all over stealth wealth fashion with “how to look expensive for less” advice which is so oxymoronic I can’t even begin. There is no “stealth wealth for less”, ok? The best that the average person can ever get is the Halloween Spirit version of a Rich Person Cosplaying As Poor outfit. That is not stealth wealth. That is simply another way to fetishize extreme wealth. And doing it on the back of exploited garment workers who make the fast fashion-masquerading-as-rich-people-cosplaying-as-poors-clothing. It would be sublimely absurd if it wasn’t actually terrible.
“But what about holey socks, Adina?” you ask. “I have holey socks too!” I’m sorry to tell you, it doesn’t matter. King Charles’s holey socks are a symbol of his stealth (colonial) wealth, your holey socks are a symbol of sloppiness. Because you are not wealthy and you cannot buy your way into wealthiness. Rich people can always cosplay as poor because their access to power is a given, and power can do whatever it wants.
I am with Eva Wiseman, who writes in The Guardian:
Perhaps I would mind this ‘quiet luxury’ less if the clothes were fabulous. But, instead, they’re bloodless, grandly bland, dreary … Why should the rest of us buy them – what good are the clothes without the power?
What good indeed?
She goes on to say:
… the reason we’re encouraged to invest our bitter pennies in rich people’s fashions has very little to do with the clothes themselves. While we’re spending all our money on a pair of slippers, we’re distracted from the real work of fighting for economic equality … toppling rotten power structures and overthrowing the billionaire class – we’ve been cheated into feeling as if we’re in their club because we’re wearing the same brand hoodie. … Buying into ‘stealth wealth’ feels like buying a band T-shirt, except the band are the worst people in the world, and the T-shirt costs the same as a month’s rent, and the music is them laughing as they shout “Eat shit” from a car. With the greatest respect, no thank you.
Here’s where we need to make some decisions.
Do we care about the environment or nah?
Do we care about human rights and justice or nah?
Do we care about ever-accelerating wealth disparity or nah?
Because if we do, we have to stop glorifying obscene wealth. We have to stop writing admiringly about Gwyneth’s thousand-dollar sweaters, and Chuck’s holey socks. We have to stop positioning these people – and their clothes – as aspirational. Stealth wealth fashion is the product and a symbol of an exploitative, oppressive system. What are we celebrating here?
Details: Gap dress, Ralph Lauren turtleneck, Ports International blazer, Free People belt (all thrifted)
Thoughts: I love wearing this dress with a corduroy or tweedy blazer – the juxtaposition is just *chef’s kiss* to me. I ended up doing a bit of layering, Papa Ralph style. I prefer mixing my southwestern pieces (clothes and accessories) with preppier ones so I avoid a full-on cowgirl aesthetic, which isn’t really my vibe. I think this is the direction I am going to explore more this summer.
Details: Liz Claiborne dress (thrifted), Prairie Trail Good vest
Thoughts: I took advantage of the suddenly-hot weather to pull out my fave summer dress from hibernation. Fully leaning into the rainbow thing with this outfit, and I loved it. It’s been a while since I wore something so unabashedly colourful in public (blame winter) and I did have a moment of hesitation — would I stick out like a sore thumb? That’s the thing about owning your style; it takes practice being “brave”. I put that in quotes because I actually hate it when people say they’re not “brave enough” to wear something other than neutrals in public. You don’t need courage; you need practice. Sure enough, after 5 minutes, I felt at ease. It might take a bit longer if you’ve never done it before, but try it! Wear something that makes your heart sing even if it feels a bit risky.
Details: Mackage jacket, Twik tee, Zara boots (all thrifted), Gap skirt (swap)
Thoughts: Still loving this skirt! It’s forcing me to be a little more adventurous with my outfits, a little bit more streetstyle. It’s always good to push the boundaries of your comfort zone a little bit; it can lead to the opening up of new horizons and living in discovery is my motto. My fave part of this outfit is the bright magenta tights — such a fun element!
Details: Ines de la Fressange x Uniqlo shirt, Ralph Lauren vest, Topshop pants, Ferragamo shoes (all thrifted)
Thoughts: This was inspired by a Ralph Lauren-styled outfit in a recent Vogue magazine; it was the brooch-on-vest styling that intrigued me. The original inspo also involved a men’s tie, which I loved but found difficult to replicate. The ties I tried (from my husband’s collection) were all rather too long to tuck in without looking bulky. Alas. This worked really well too; I enjoyed this outfit a lot.
Details: Ralph Lauren jacket, Nocona belt, Margaret Godfrey skirt, Canadienne boots (all thrifted)
Thoughts: I’m taking another styling tip from Papa Ralph and experimenting with using scarves as a visual layer, specifically in place of a turtleneck or shirt collar. A pop of contrast colour at the neck — thanks to a small, light scarf — adds extra depth to the outfit. I loved how this tip elevated this outfit, and I’m planning a few more experiments in this line.
If the title didn’t give it away — yes, this blog is turning 13 this week. It’s officially a teenager, haha! It’s strange to think of it in those terms, but good practice for next year when my son turns 13. Even though he was a baby, like, yesterday and I don’t feel a day over 27 except when I stay up past 9:30 and wake up the next morning feeling like I’ve been on a three-day bender. What is time, even?
When I started the blog, my goal was to write about fashion in a more relatable way than magazines … so, basically, what every personal style blogger of the late oughts/early teens was doing. It was the golden era of blogging, before Instagram came along and took over and created influencers. I never did “level up” into a more professional style of blogging. If anything, I levelled down. At the beginning, I wrote a fair number of how-to and instructive posts reflecting what I myself was learning at the time about fashion and style. Over the years, I’ve moved away from that and back to personal reflections because as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that (a) I’m not comfortable positioning myself as an expert of any kind, and (b) style shouldn’t be a didactic exercise anyway. Ironically, the more comfortable and self-assured I become about my own personal style, the more loath I am to give tips to other people about theirs. Discovery is the journey, the journey is the destination, and you are exactly where you need to be right now.
But it wouldn’t be a retrospective if we didn’t have something to look back on. Outfits, perhaps? I made my early archives private a while ago, so here’s your chance to revisit some outfits I’ve tried hard to make you (and me) forget. All kidding aside, it’s nice to be able to look back at clothes I wore more than a decade ago; because they are so indelibly linked to my daily life, it’s like opening a time capsule and releasing so many memories.
2010
2010 was a watershed year for me. I bought a house (with my partner), got married, turned 30, got pregnant. And, obviously, I started to write about clothes. At the time, money was pretty tight, so I was mostly shopping consignment (with some eBay thrown in) and Winners. I can’t say that I had any real concept of my personal style apart from wanting to “look nice”. Looking back, I am actually surprised at how relatively “tame” my outfits are. Not especially stylish, but not garish either — in my mind, I was convinced that I dressed worse during this period than I actually did.
2011
I was pregnant for half of 2011 and navigating post-partum life for the other half. The latter was infinitely worse for me. Being a first time mom is so hard, y’all! I used to joke that I had PTSD from the first 6 months of my son’s life and, honestly, it wasn’t much of a joke. My mental health suffered a great deal during that time, and that experience still colours my memories. I have a hard time looking back on some of the outfit photos I took during that period, not because they’re terrible but because I remember how terrible I felt. As far as clothes went, though, not much changed. Thanks to my long torso, I didn’t really need to buy maternity clothes for most of my pregnancy, and just kept wearing my usual clothes. There were a lot of A-line and paperbag waist skirts belted at my natural waist (well above my actual bump).
2012
The second half of my maternity leave and return to work went relatively smoothly. My mom retired and started to take care of our son, and I cannot emphasize enough what a massive deal this was for us as working parents (and for our son too). Having that “village” behind us, in a society that constantly sh*ts on working parents, made a world of difference. It’s something I would like to do for my own kids some day (if they decide to become parents). But I digress. When I went back to work, I started to be a little more creative with my outfits. Still, I didn’t have a clue or overarching plan for my style. My bigger focus was now bags. This was the start of my “bag lady” era. I started buying designer bags (almost always secondhand bargains) and changing my bag every day to complement my outfit.
2013
I spent most of 2013 pregnant with my daughter, and it was a different experience than before. Because I “showed” much earlier and gained more weight than with my first pregnancy, I did end up buying more maternity clothes, which I hated. There just weren’t a lot of affordable and cute options back then. My favourite things to wear were long, tube-like, super stretchy dresses; making those dresses law office-appropriate was always a challenge. Maternity pants were the worst, and I think wearing them made me hate all pants for a while. My post-partum body was also very different, and it took me a while to learn to navigate that.
2014
Two words: J. Crew and Anthro. Ok, throw one more into the mix: Boden. This was the year that the J. Crew Factory store opened in Edmonton, and I was in there every other week trawling the sales rack. Anthro and Boden were exclusively eBay territory for my budget, but I was able to add some fun and colourful pieces that way. This is when I started developing an awareness of style, in the sense of it being a cohesive concept separate from simply “looking nice”. At this point, my style (such as it was) was all about preppy and whimsical. Going back to work while being a few sizes bigger than before meant having to replace a good chunk of my wardrobe and starting with a blank slate.
2015
2015 was a bit of a transitional year, career-wise (my role evolved) and clothes-wise. I changed sizes again which meant, yep, more clothes buying. I was still doing the classic/preppy vibe but slowly began to pivot towards the Anthro side of things — colours, patterns, and that classic feminine-bordering-on-twee vibe. Because I was buying secondhand, most of the pieces were from the “glory era” of Anthro, late 2000s and early 2010s. I worked to make them fit my law firm lifestyle and, for the most part, I think I did well. Keep in mind that I never worked in a business formal environment; but colourful business casual? I nailed that.
2016
2016 was peak Anthro era. This is the most colour I would wear until circa 2020. It was also the last year when the focus of my fashion interest was mall brands. I had gotten back into thrifting again (after a long hiatus) during my second maternity leave — 2014 was the year I found my first pair of thrifted Manolo Blahnik shoes — but that hobby didn’t really start ramping up until 2016. At that point, my motto was “no Anthro left behind (at the thrifts)” but, slowly, I started to expand my horizons. The Edmonton thrift scene was an absolute goldmine back then, and as I started to learn more about designer brands, I realized that Anthro and J. Crew were not the be-all-and-end-all.
2017
Learning about designer brands I’d never heard of before led me to start experimenting with “edgier” looks. I put that in quotation marks because these were not truly edgy or fringe looks, but they were more fashion-forward than my older outfits. I was trying different silhouettes, playing with proportions, moving further away from “business casual” towards “creative casual”. Not coincidentally, 2017 was the year I made a big career change, leaving firm practice and moving in-house. It was, hands-down, one of the best life decisions I made for myself; once made, I felt like a big weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Navigating a whole new environment and role was a challenge, but it was an exciting challenge that made me feel new energy for all parts of my life, including fashion. I remember having a lot of fun with clothes that year.
2018
This is when I started getting more conceptual about my style. The Style Avatar system was born in 2018; it was a way for me to better visualize the way I wanted to present myself to other people. My outfits became edgier still, as I moved away from old ideas about what is flattering and what isn’t. I started wearing less colour, which now feels a tad depressing to me, but at the time felt absolutely right. I do remember struggling with the social media/blogging side of things during this period. People who had been following me for years were used to my old colourful, whimsical style, and many didn’t like this new version. For a while, I felt pressure to conform to expectations in order to still generate the same amount of likes and comments. It actually took me a few years to learn how to navigate social media (as a content creator) in a way that felt healthy to me — to detach from the popularity contest aspect of it, and use it solely as an outlet for my creative output without worrying about what other people thought of it.
2019
I sometimes joke that 2019 was the “last good year” and it’s not entirely untrue; there was no pandemic, the kids were older and we were finally starting to have a good work-life balance, we travelled a lot, everyone was healthy, and my mom was still around. I turned 39 and started to look forward to a new decade — the one I thought would be my best one yet. Little did I know, sigh. Fashion-wise, I was in a good groove too; more of the same as 2018, but getting better at it.
2020
2020 started off strong and then … well, we all know what happened. We all had to figure out a new way of doing pretty much everything, including getting dressed. The first few months of working from home full-time were ROUGH. I had no idea how to get dressed! Wearing sweats 24/7 was not an option for me — not getting “properly” dressed every day has a direct negative correlation with my mood. But what to wear when I’m going nowhere? What to wear when I’m wearing clothes for myself, not to be seen by others? Expressing my creativity looks different when I’m the audience. Eventually, I got the hang of it. Colour came back into my life with a vengeance. I indulged some of my more dramatic impulses — sequins and tulle, anyone? I also started to splurge on designer clothes more than before (thanks to Poshmark, which became available in Canada that year). Previously, my philosophy had been to splurge on accessories — shoes and bags — and save on clothing because the former tend to last longer and get cycled out less quickly. But in 2020 I came to appreciate clothes more — and appreciate the difference that good design, good tailoring, and good quality fabrics and finishing can make — especially since I didn’t need bags or shoes as much anymore working from home. I’m glad I did splurge on some special pieces during this period when I had the budget and when Poshmark was full of good deals.
2021
I have talked about this before, but my mom’s death changed everything. And that is no exaggeration. Apart from the immediate and devastating impact on our extended family’s life, it made me reevaluate my priorities and values from top to bottom. I decided I needed to be more present in my own life; focus less on work and more on living life the way I wanted but kept putting off to “some day in the future”. I realized that if, god forbid, something happened to me as unexpectedly as it did to my mom, I would have hella regrets. And I set about redesigning my life so there would be less room for regret. 10/10 would highly recommend. With everything else going on, fashion took a backseat. My approach became less analytical and more instinctive. Personal style is important to me but it’s not that serious.
2022
2022 was the first year of the rest of my life, you know? There were bumps along the way, but with every curve ball, I felt more and more confident about the life choices I had made. Working part-time so I could focus more on my family, my health, and my hobbies? Worth every penny of the salary cut. I have a smaller budget now, but I’ve never had more fun with fashion or my other interests. This was the most confident I felt about myself and my style in … well, ever. The key word of the year was: Ralph Lauren. Of course! I drew and still draw so much inspiration from his archives, both in terms of overall aesthetic but also in terms of outfit building-block type stuff like accessorizing, layering, proportions, colour palettes and more. I’m sure my aesthetic will evolve again but there will always be a soft spot in my heart for Papa Ralph (just as there is a spot reserved for old school Anthro and Issey Miyake).
The end of 2022 was a difficult time for me. I was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ, a form of non-invasive breast cancer. While not exactly a shock (due to my family history), it brought up a lot of anxiety and other complicated feelings. I am still not quite ready to talk about it all here. I’ve been fortunate in many ways; the disease was caught early and is of a type that has a generally good prognosis, my treatment has gone relatively smoothly, and I have had enormous support from my family and friends. But it has sucked up a lot of mental and emotional bandwidth, especially as I was going through radiation around the 2nd anniversary of my mom’s death. With treatment now wrapping up, I feel like I am starting a new chapter. What that chapter is going to look like, well, it remains to be seen. But I hope we can look back in another 5 or 10 years and marvel at how far we’ve come along.
