Hope Springs Eternal

Peppy Preppy VS Sour Dystopia.

Me: Siri, why do I hate high fashion?

Siri: Ok. Here’s what I found:

Me: Hit me again Siri.

Siri:

Wow. Siri, you’re totally on the money. That weirdo post-apocalyptic cosplay is exactly why I find high fashion so annoying. It’s dreary and alienating in a way that makes people shrug and say ‘I guess I’m not that sophisticated.’ (Trust me: it’s them, not you).

Dystopian fashion—also known as ‘post-grunge,’ ‘neo-goth,’ ‘cyberpunk’ or ‘war-core’ —is a thing. It first appeared and then disappeared in the early 80s. Like a carpenter ant infestation, it’s been creeping back on the scene ever since. Every few years, a fresh crop of design talent goes mining the past for inspiration and unearths its rotting corpse. This year is no exception.

The war-core vocabulary is fairly straightforward: black leather, sooty colours, buckles, gold zippers, studs and straps. Also, despair, disdain, nihilism, anger, absurdity and irony—as in ‘devoid of passion or sincerity. The models always look unhappy. Dressed like that, who wouldn’t? 

In its original form, 1980s cyberpunk style was a commentary on late 20th century decay and corporate banality, thematically borrowing from speculative fiction, Japanese iconography and…. 

Sorry! Must have dozed off there because… boooooring. Like, we get it, ok? You’re ‘cutting edge’ and ‘avant-garde.’ You have a raven for a therapy animal and your NFT project just dropped. Your ideal muse is Björk or Tilda Swinton. You love all the doom and gloom but TBH, we’re getting enough of that right now from the headlines. 

All fashion is a type of fiction, including war-core. The other story unfolding at the moment is ‘preppy.’ Personally, I’ll take sunny, fresh, traditional ‘preppy’ over war-core’s sturm und drang any day.

Signs of a preppy revival are everywhere—preppy blazers, loafers, collared shirts and button downs, tartan, v-neck polos and fair isle sweaters. Aritzia—which is to Gen-Z women what Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory is to Charlie Bucket (a fantasy world where all your dreams come true)—is bursting with preppy staples including blazers, sweater vests, pleats and tennis skirts.

Don’t take it from me. Take it from Instagram influencer Blair Eadie and her 1.8 million followers…

Frankly, I’m delighted. Preppy was the thing during my high school years, which began in 1981–the year The Official Preppy Handbook landed. Also the year of Levis 501s, Topsider boat shoes, Lacoste alligator shirts, Polo button downs, anoraks, duck boots and Tretorn sneakers. I’ve been nostalgic for all these ever since. 

Gentleman, you must be pleased as well. Or did you have something more like this in mind?

I didn’t think so. For many, even most, men, ‘preppy’ is the ‘factory settings’ of attire—quality over showy and stylish over fashionable. Supremely unfashionable is more like it, which brings to mind Oscar Wilde’s quote that ‘fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable, we have to alter it every six months.’ Preppy remains true to its fundamentals.

If war-core is the thesis, preppy is the antithesis. The former is monochrome; preppy bursts with eccentric colors. Preppy’s spiritual home is blustery Scotland, though mostly America and also France, where it’s called ‘bon chic, bon genre,’ or ‘BCBG.’ War-core sticks to Germany and also Japan—the only country with firsthand experience of a nuclear blast. 

Preppy lingers in the past. Cyberpunk style is more about the distant future, drawing inspiration from dystopian literature and film. Spoiler alert: the future is always grim. The prospect of climate catastrophe weighs heavy on today’s cyberpunkish designers who all seem anxious to restore Mother Earth’s delicate balance by working with textiles made from recycled ocean plastic. 

Buzzy up-and-comer Eva Sonnefeld even designed a sweater that detects air pollution…

Holy Jesus that’s heavy for a trifle like fashion. Is Klaus Schwab behind this because I’m getting strong Great Reset vibes. Only, why the long face? I thought in the future you’d own nothing and be happy. I guess living in a sky pod leased from Vanguard, eating drone-delivered larvae-paste burritos ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

The preppy mindset would rather die than live inside a Blade Runner sequel. It fetishizes the past. Since history doesn’t repeat itself so much as it rhymes, the current preppy trend has evolved. This is preppy circa 1980…

I’m not sure how many preppies had dirt-staches back then. In any case, 2022 is looking more like this…

That Justus tartan maxi kilt is part of Christian Dior’s 2022 fall collection. Like the ready-to-wear kilts currently everywhere, this one is less punkish than the late-70s Sex Pistols variety, (mercifully) less jail-baity than Britney Spears’ Oops, I did it Again version and less sarcastic than Alicia’s Silvertone’s iconic Clueless tartan number.

Another thing today’s preppy has done away with is all that Ralph Lauren aspirational bullshit. Even back in the eighties, we knew those multi-page Polo spreads in the New York Times Magazine were a fantasized ideal and that Ralph Lauren was really Ralph Lifshitz, a schmatte guy from the Bronx. So no more fake crests or chisel-jawed Winklevoss twins wannabes. No Antique Morgans or polo clubs or blue-ribbon pedigreed dogs. 

This is 2022. We can’t afford yachts or timber ski lodges in Aspen. Authentic preppy was never that ostentatious anyway. Yes, people associate the preppy lifestyle with class and money, but it’s much more about decorum, tradition, quality and thrift. A real ‘preppy’ is one who scrimps on minor conveniences in order to splurge on the truly important things in life, like premium alcohol and a good pair of wide-wale cords.