Are your jeans about to get you fashion-cancelled?

Maybe - according to… The Wall Street Journal?!

Last week was a rough one for women. It seemed like every day there was a new story highlighting something bad that happened to women – from sexual harassment at google to women over 40 getting sidelined at work. Hell, Ursula von der Leyen couldn’t even get a chair for a meeting! 

Then I saw the headline ‘Skinny Jeans and 9 Other Styles That Date You’ – from the style mavens at… The Wall Street Journal?

Yes, on top of everything else going on in the world right now, The Wall Street Journal is trying to guilt me into shopping by telling me my pre-pandemic wardrobe is dating me (and not just me, apparently). 

I read on, expecting a light, saccharine piece about fashion – but instead of being playful, the tone was smarmy and unnecessarily judgemental. The majority of the outdated items on the list – from ‘demurely bucolic dresses’ to ‘over the top earrings’ and ‘Bohemian purse straps’ – meant the target for this judgement was mostly reserved for women. (Though men, you’re not in the clear either – it’s time to lose the ‘fratty florid dress shirts’ because you ‘never see stylish guys wearing them.’).

Thanks to The Journal I’ve learned that the ‘almost invisible socks’ I wear for my Peleton workouts (in my house) are screaming to the world (or, rather, the contents of my room) that I’m over 35. According to the article, my no-show socks are saying, “I’m an out of touch Millennial clinging to a trend my dad ditched years ago.” I’m technically a Gen X-er, so should I take it as a compliment that I’m passing for a Millennial? 

Is this really ‘mumsy’?

And while you may have thought buying $150 sustainable slip-ons from Rothy’s in 2017 told the world you cared about the planet, now they’re telling people you’re the type of person who ‘uses Facebook as your primary social-media platform.’ It’s time to replace them with a $450 pair of eco-friendly flats from Aera. (Anyone else puzzled why you’d needlessly throw out sustainable shoes?).

The article also takes aim at the ‘woefully generic’ “mom cardigan” that so many women wear. It notes the ‘raison d’etre’ of this ‘sad shapeless sweater’ is to ‘cover a widening behind.’ Wearing one will not only ‘seriously date you’ but also indicate that “you’ve reached a ‘too lazy to try’ age that’s not an era but a state of mind.”

Seriously, it’s a sweater. Who cares? Is a sweater really communicating that much? Maybe women are just saying it’s chilly.

Of course the solution to this is to buy a $350 sweater that will avoid ‘the mumsy look.’

Here’s the rub: I can put on that $350 sweater and still be called ‘mumsy’ because I have two young kids who call me ‘Mum.’ Should I try to convince the world that I’m young and hip by wearing a pair of Louboutins and carrying a luxury handbag when I take the kids to school? Or would that just make me look like one of the ‘privileged Park Slope Momsters’ the article describes?

And that’s what bothered me. This article could have been light and fun – new trends, new colors – but instead, it’s written in a snarky tone that looks down on its audience, and makes them feel inadequate. Why is The Wall Street Journal suggesting it’s a bad thing to be identified as a Millennial or a mother (if you are one)? Who said fashion approval from Gen Z was a cherished commodity? 

We’ve spent the better part of the last year in lockdown in the UK, and I haven’t visited a clothing store since February 2020. But you know what else I haven’t done in the last year? Had a hug from my mom. Dined in a restaurant with my husband. Seen a live play or concert with a friend. 

Any of those things would bring me more joy than a pair of shoes, a new sweater, or a $525 necklace. (Geez – that statement alone reveals more about my age than anything in my closet!).

In this past year, I’ve worried about a lot of things: my parents, my children, my extended family – but not my wardrobe. I don’t think it’s my clothing that tells the world I’m not part of Gen Z. I think it’s my age, the fact that I remember life before social media, and that I refer to Luke Perry as Dylan McKay – not Archie’s dad.

I grew up with this pair…

Gen Z grew up with this pair…

So you know, I don’t really care what my athletic socks or choice of accessories say to people right now.

And I hope you don’t worry about what your sweater or slip-on shoes say either.

I might have 99 problems – but getting ‘fashion-cancelled’ on TikTok ain’t one.*

This was the image that accompanied the story in The Wall Street Journal. They originally identified the skinny jean-wearing dinosaur in the image as a T-Rex. “That’s a velociraptor,” I thought. “Didn’t anyone see Jurassic Park?”

*And yes, I’m aware that pop culture reference that might date me, too.