Summer seemed to arrive suddenly – and very early – in Edmonton this year, which took most of us by surprise. Normal temperatures in May are usually in the mid-teens and they’ve been as high as +30 Celsius recently. I hesitate to call it “summer” because the weather here is nothing if not unpredictable – we’ve also had snow in May before – but it does look like it’s time to put away my spring coats. I am slightly sad about it, because I love spring fashion, but I’m now pivoting hard to my hot weather wardrobe. I put the boots away, brought out the sandals. Took out the wool jackets, coats and skirts, and unearthed all the summer dresses. It’s a ritual I strangely enjoy, even though it means turning my small house upside down for a day.

I am still vibing with last year’s summer aesthetic so I have no plans for major edits to my wardrobe, apart from a few updates (thrift gods willing) and maybe some paring down. With my annual clothing swap coming up next month, it’s a good time to do that. But even when things are mostly staying the same, I like to gather new style inspo at the beginning of the season. It’s like bringing in fresh air – new ideas make me feel energized and excited about the clothes I already have.

You won’t be surprised to hear that one of the first places I looked for inspo is old Ralph Lauren runway collections. It’s not just that I love the eclectic aesthetic; but nobody does layering and mix-and-matching like RL, and these are key strategies for me when it comes to making the most of my wardrobe. The way RL runway outfits are styled give me so many ideas for novel combinations of pieces from my own closet. Being able to “remix” my clothes in new, fun ways cuts down on the desire to buy new things simply for the novelty.

Here is one example. I was drawn to the pattern mixing and the use of accessories in this outfit. I don’t have a patchwork/madras jacket (looking for one!) but I worked with pieces from my closet to create something that, to me, had a similar vibe.

Here is some non-RL inspo that caught my eye too. On the left is a current Brunello Cuccinelli ad; I am not normally a fan due to the brand’s “stealth wealth” associations (gag) but I love the mood this image evokes (which, for me, has nothing to do with rich people). I don’t have the pieces to replicate it exactly, but I could put together my own take on it.

Here are a few more RL runway outfits that I’m saving for reference; they are not specifically summer looks, but again — it’s all about the proportions, layering and mixing.

The key to layered looks in the summer (in Edmonton) is breathable, light layers. I love cotton and especially linen for that. Also vests and crop tops. Loose dresses and skirts come with their own built-in AC. The creative challenge is taking the inspo look, which may or may not be geared to summer, and translating its components into summer-appropriate versions.

Here’s an example:

Not the same-same, but similar. The inspo is never a recipe, after all; it’s a starting point.

Details: Gap dress (Poshmark), J. Crew blazer, Ferragamo shoes (both thrifted)

Details: Babaton turtleneck (thrifted), Ralph Lauren skirt (thrifted), Topshop skirt (swap), Amaryllis jacket (thrifted), Mia shoes

Details: Wilfred top, Tyakasha jacket, Citizens of Humanity jeans, Barbara Barbieri shoes (all thrifted)

Details: unlabelled jacket, Ralph Lauren skirt, BR belt, Barbara Barbieri shoes (all thrifted)

Details: Cleo skirt, St. John top, Wilfred vest (all thrifted)

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?