The 72nd annual Emmy Awards are two days away, and while Sunday’s occasion would normally mean television’s finest together in one room — more specifically, the Microsoft Theatre in Los Angeles — this year, the first big award show of the season will look a little different. For starters, Jimmy Kimmel will be hosting the Emmys from a stage surrounded by empty seats. Meanwhile, winners will have videographers dispatched to their homes to ensure that every speech results in “unique ‘on screen’ moments,” according to Variety. As for the Emmys red carpet, well, only time will tell.
In lieu of photographers greeting the stars of Euphoria, Little Fires Everywhere, Succession, Watchmen, and more on the red carpet this year, we’ll be seeing them at home. And with the informal dress code — “come as you are, but make an effort,” Variety reported — we are just as likely to see celebrities in luxe pajamas as formal gowns. With the latter in mind, we’re taking a trip down memory lane — back to SJP’s feathered Oscar de la Renta from 2000 — instead.
Over the last two decades, celebrations of television shows — ranging from Friends, Will & Grace, and Sex and the City in the ‘90s and ‘00s to Mad Men, Scandal, Grey’s Anatomy, and Game of Thrones from the 2010s — have resulted in some of Hollywood’s greatest red carpet fashion. Of the many winning Emmy red carpet looks, there was Jennifer Aniston’s white, strapless Chanel from 2004, Blake Lively’s red Versace from 2009, Kerry Washington’s orange Prada from 2014, and, of course, Zendaya’s show-stopping green custom Vera Wang from 2019.
So while, yes, this year’s Emmys red carpet won’t look anything like the 72 before it — or like any awards ceremony at all really — that doesn’t mean we can’t still divulge in a night of epic red carpet fashion this Sunday night. Whether or not it’ll be from 2020, though, remains to be determined. For now, click through our list of the best Emmys looks of all time (or at least the last 20 years) ahead.
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For plus-size women, shopping, in general, is hard. Finding a retailer that sells clothing in a plus-size alone isn’t easy — and that’s before even considering personal preference or style. That selection becomes even more limited when it comes to vintage sellers. But like everyone else, plus-size women want to shop vintage too, be it because of the high quality, fair price point, or sustainable nature of the clothing. Unfortunately, as we see shifts in the right direction fornewplus-size fashion, a recent trend is setting curvy women up for more disappointment on the vintage front, with online sellers marketing vintage in larger sizes as “oversized” and selling it to straight-size women. You know, women who already have access to whatever fashion items they want.
“Being plus-size means thrifting and never finding shit in your size, just to find out someone named Anna sold an ‘oversize’ sweater from Goodwill for double the price on Depop,” a woman named Kort tweeted in frustration. And why shouldn’t she be frustrated? Ethics surrounding selling a Goodwill find elsewhere for more money aside, fashion already favors thin body types. Matters don’t need to be worsened by that same demographic dipping their hands in the already-limited plus-size vintage/thrift pot for clothing that doesn’t even fit them.
“It’s not ‘oversized’ for everyone,” says Emma Zack, the founder of Berriez, a plus-size vintage store based in Brooklyn. “A shirt that’s a size L on someone who’s a size XS or S may be ‘oversized;’ but for me, a size 1X, that shirt wouldn’t be ‘oversized,’ it would just be too small.” Zack explains that it isn’t the items in question that need to change, but rather the way that they’re advertised to shoppers by some sellers. “Just list the actual size,” she says. “Not only would marketing items as such increase their chance of finding a new home, but it would also create more opportunities for plus-size people to buy from a wider array of vintage stores.”
Lauren Harbury, the founder and owner of Feminist Goods Co., says it isn’t her job to “police” peoples’ styling or buying habits: “Why wouldn’t [women] want to wear something when it’s trendy?” But, like many others, she finds the limited choice of vintage offerings frustrating. She tells Refinery29 that she “legit has one vintage dress,” which she’s been trying to “make fit” for years: “Narrator: it does not, in fact, fit.” Matters could get even worse as fashion continues to pivot away from an emphasis on tailoring and fit and toward a more slouchy and oversized aesthetic. Already, in the last few seasons, blazers have been worn two sizes too big, puddle pants have replaced everything previously cropped, and jeans have been designed specifically to be worn big. And, for straight-size people looking to buy into the oversize trend who can’t afford to, or don’t want to for sustainability reasons, buy new pieces, vintage is an obvious choice. But their actions could be affecting those whose sizes are harder to find.
“There’s this killer vintage Hawaiian shirt store in Honolulu that I went to and was so excited about,” says Harbury. “But the only things I could buy were men’s button-downs — which, don’t get me wrong, I will absolutely buy — but it’s so strange. Plus people have always existed, so what did they wear? Paper bags?”
She is right to ask that question. Has everything been tailored down after decades of female body standards getting smaller and smaller? Probably not. Is there a shortage of plus-size vintage? According to Zack, the answer is again no. “There isn’t a shortage, there just isn’t as much plus-size vintage from the decades prior to 1980,” she explains. “Just as the fashion industry today doesn’t cater to plus-size bodies — although that has been slowly shifting over the past few years — the fashion industry back then also didn’t cater to plus-size bodies.” Zack says that between World War II and 1980, clothing manufacturers largely ignored plus-size consumers, which plays into why vintage items from certain eras are tricky to source in larger sizes. “Most of the vintage I source is from the ‘80s and ‘90s, though, and it’s just as unique, stylish, and irrefutably ‘vintage’ as clothing from earlier decades,” she says.
It is overall bleak. Upon looking for a pair of vintage Levi’s on Depop, I am met with a variety of options, almost all of which are shown on a straight-size model and either fit perfectly or are styled to purposely look baggy à la Kurt Cobain at the ‘93 MTV VMAs. Hardly a result geared toward plus-size women appears. Maybe you’ll see pieces modeled on a size 8 — emphasis on maybe. And this is hardly just an e-commerce issue — or limited to just denim selections. Before the pandemic shuttered businesses, thus ushering us online, I rarely noticed plus-size options in vintage brick-and-mortars, either.
“I think that a lot of owners of vintage shops are inherently fatphobic,” says Jacqueline Whitmore, the owner of Copper Hive Vintage in Salt Lake City, Utah. “They don’t believe in the worth of fat people, which translates into what items they carry, who they chose to be visible in their marketing, and their unwillingness to try to create plus-sizing within their brand or lifestyles.” Zack shares a similar sentiment. “Like traditional retail stores — and the fashion industry in general — the vintage market tends to favor a more petite body type,” she says. “Plus-size vintage, like all of plus-size fashion, is treated as an afterthought, despite it being one of the fastest-growing markets. And until plus-size people are treated with the same consideration as straight-size people, this cycle will repeat: There will continue to be a lack of plus-size vintage items in traditional vintage stores.”
A post shared by Jacqueline Whitmore (@chubbydustbunny) on May 10, 2020 at 1:59pm PDT
Some plus-size women have given up on sourcing vintage for many items. Instead, in an effort to avoid supporting unethical fast fashion brands, they are taking matters into their own hands literally — by creating vintage-inspired pieces themselves. “As a plus size babe, I’ve been trying to make more vintage inspo pieces that I [would otherwise] have a hard time sourcing in my size,” Whitmore wrote on Instagram. “I dream about day dresses, so why not make them?” Given that as the owner of a vintage store, Whitmore spends her days surrounded by secondhand clothing, she’s more equipped than anyone to find stylish pieces. And yet, even she’s taken to making or adjusting pieces herself in order to wear clothing that works for her body.
Despite women like Zack, Whitmore, and more dedicating their lives to bettering plus-size women’s experience shopping for vintage, curvy women continue to struggle. That’s not going to change overnight. In the meantime, more vintage sellers can make an effort to carry plus-size options, and consumers can avoid thrifting all of what is available in sizes 12 and up and re-selling it using terms like “baggy” or “oversized.” As Whitmore says, “A shop’s wording and photographs are powerful.”
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In the last few years, the word “cult” has, ironically, become mainstream in fashion. It’s been used in reference to influencer- and Cool Girl-friendly brands (think: Nanushka, Staud, Rotate); to brands whose products have taken over Instagram (Jacquemus’ Chiquito mini bags, Susan Alexandra’s beaded totes, Sleeper’s dresses); and to established brands whose every drop still gets fans excited (Supreme). But, if every brand can be a cult brand, then what does the designation even mean anymore?
“A cult brand can be defined as a brand that has made significant impact within culture and fashion,” says Telsha Anderson, owner and buyer at T.A., a NYC boutique that carries popular brands like PH5, Ellery, and PRISCAVera. “It also creates its own target audience that continuously bands together to create support surrounding the brand, day after day.”
Caroline Maguire, fashion director at Shopbop, defines it as a brand whose impact extends beyond the products it sells. “Cult brands have their own loyal customer base, who are not only obsessed with the brand but the culture and values that are associated with it,” she says.
Sophie Hersan, co-founder and fashion director at Vestiaire Collective, agrees with both of them. “A cult brand is one that has developed a community of dedicated fans around it. In which case, it’s not always about the latest design or collection, but the identity of the brand that the fans are buying into,” she says. “Cult brands symbolize a lifestyle and culture first and foremost.”
From the Wang Gang — aka members of designer Alexander Wang’s close (and famous) circle of models — to Ganni Girls — fans of the beloved Danish brand — communities have long been known to form around labels, and even specific designers behind those labels, as is the case with Phoebe Philo’s #OldCeline or Daniel Lee’s #NewBottega. In the case of Supreme, fans have frequently expressed their allegiance by camping out on folding chairs outside the stores the night before a big drop and buying out every collaboration, ranging from Louis Vuitton and Comme des Garçons to NYC’s MTA, within minutes.
“Supreme is a perfect example of a cult brand and is a pioneer of streetwear. Over the last few decades, it’s developed a loyal following and has continuously innovated and collaborated with other designers and artists to remain trendy. Despite being around for over 25 years now, it remains a top seller on Vestiaire Collective and limited-edition releases are more valuable than ever,” Hersan says. And it’s not showing any signs of slowing down. Its most recent collaboration, Supreme x Pat McGrath, sold out eight seconds after first dropping. Since then, the $38 lipstick has appeared on StockX, Grailed, and eBay at prices starting at around $150.
“A brand garners a cult following through creative product offerings, innovative design, and exciting marketing,” says Mcguire. “These brands always focus on the product integrity first. Next, they create exciting and innovative collaborations, which lends itself to how well it is marketed on social platforms.” With that said, while Supreme, who has been successful on all these fronts, will likely retain its reputation, it’s no longer the only brand that’s reigning, well, supreme. Since the introduction of Instagram and influencers, the idea of a cult brand, much like the definition itself, has evolved and expanded.
“Cult brands have changed over the past few years with the rise and importance of social media. Previously, the fashion community would hear about products or brands through word-of-mouth, and while that is still important, everything is now so instant and easily accessible,” says Maguire. “Today, consumers watch tastemakers and influencers wearing products on social platforms and brands continue to introduce the ‘see now, shop now’ option, which work together to contribute to a cult brand’s large increase in popularity.”
Take, for example, Cult Gaia. After the brand debuted its Ark bag in 2013, a see-through, half-circle bamboo clutch, the brand earned the “cult” label thanks to the way the bag was spotted on the arm of every celebrity, influencer, and fashion-lover alike; soon, it was sold out. Years later, the bag, which is now available in a variety of colors and materials and readily available, remains a best-seller for the brand, that has now also become known for its clothing offerings. (This past summer, the brand was responsible for one of Summer 2020’s most popular dresses.)
“Social media, hype via word of mouth, and sold-out product are all important [in making a brand go cult],” says Anderson. “I also believe a brand’s ability to innovate beyond what the brand is known for in that ‘cult moment’ is important as well.”
In 2020, according to Anderson, Hersan, and Maguire, no brand is more emblematic of cult status than Telfar, which Maguire calls “THE brand for fashionistas at the moment.” The Telfar Clemens-led, Brooklyn-based unisex brand — that just won the CFDA Fashion Award for the American Accessories Designer of the Year category and revealed an upcoming UGG collaboration — has become known for its “Bushwick Birkin.” The tote, which comes in three sizes and many colors, has become so heavily sought out that it earned its own security program after every drop sold out and fell prey to resellers hiking up the price. There is also the way Telfar caters to its audience. Telfar is not only groundbreaking for its inclusive approach to luxury — the most expensive tote goes for $250 which, while not cheap, certainly doesn’t even come close to the cost of many other luxury It bags — but also for the way it puts its community first. “It’s not for you — it’s for everyone,” reads the website.
“Telfar is unique in their product offering, editorials, approach to social media, and they continue to evolve. They also have a unique target audience that supports them digitally and in-person,” says Anderson. To wear a Telfar tote, whose supporters notably include Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, is to display your values — something that consumers are now increasingly interested in when it comes to brands they support.
“The last couple of years have seen increased consumer demand for purpose-driven brands amongst both independent and mainstream designers. COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter have only accelerated this trend further. The followers of cult brands have high expectations for the ethos that they are buying into, so I anticipate this to continue,” says Hersan. “Speaking out about values won’t be enough. Loyal followers will want to see positive actions and know that their purchases are building a better future for society and the environment.”
Anderson says it makes sense that what used to be defined as “cult” is evolving. “Cult brands changed because our culture, needs, and resources have changed. I believe change is important and necessary for growth as a culture,” she says. “As life evolves, I believe the idea of a ‘cult brand’ will evolve as well. What makes something launch or pop today will change in the next six months or in the next five years. The definition of a ‘cult brand’ will shift and change as our culture, resources, and day-to-day necessities change. What we need today will never be what we need tomorrow, and that’s the excitement of growth and human evolution.”
So then what does a brand need to do today to go cult? According to Hersan, a strong point of view. “Cult brands will always have a unique story and ethos that really resonates with the values with the community it appeals to. The ones that retain value are those that are consistent with and protective of their brand image,” she says. “Despite being dramatically different, Hermes and Supreme both evoke a certain lifestyle and have earned a loyal following as a result.”
Mcguire agrees. “Focus on what your brand really stands for! Don’t try and be everything to everyone. What is special about a cult brand are the styles, the philosophy, and the story behind it,” she says. “As we rely more and more on technology, brands will continue to come up with innovative ways to connect and resonate with their customer base. This will ultimately lend itself to loyal relationships and products more catered to their consumers.”
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Without outfits to plan, schedules to coordinate, and portable phone chargers to buy in the days leading up to the first show, New York Fashion Week ended as quickly as it came. No street style, very few in-person runways, and no after-parties — digital NYFW was an entirely new experience. One thing about this week that didn’t change, though, was what it left behind: a variety of spring '21 trends to contemplate from now until the season actually begins.
As expected, masks were everywhere during the shortened NYFW, starting with those showcased during sustainable brand Zero + Maria Cornejo’s video presentation. More appeared later at Collina Strada, Oak & Acorn, Libertine, and Imitation of Christ, to name a few. Staying true to the pandemic theme, gloves also made an appearance, though none that we’d consider wearing for anything other than aesthetics. At Theophilio, gloves were adorned on one hand only, whereas the ones at Rodarte were fanciful, dainty, and made of chiffon. From there, it was comfort that reigned supreme — another genre that we expected given the number of hours we continue to spend indoors and away from judging fashion eyes. Simon Miller and LRS used ribbing in their loungewear, while Collina Strada and PH5 went the sweatsuit route.
Some designers took chances that we weren’t expecting. At Social Work, C+ Plus Series, Snow Xue Gao, and Maisie Wilen, among others, designers broke fashion's long-running rule by clashing varying prints. Snow Xue Gao included micro florals paired with plaid — thus making us happy we bought Kate Middleton’s floral mask before it sold out, just so we can now pair it with a plaid mini skirt — while metallic stripes sparred (in the best way possible) with quilt-like patchwork at Maisie Wilen.
This NYFW was about more than just clothes, though. Many designers, including Oak & Acorn, Collina Strada, Studio 189, PH5, Tanya Taylor, and Chromat, used their spots on the NYFW calendar to spread meaningful messages regarding social injustices, climate change, politics, and more.
Ahead, see all the trends that stood out at the first-ever digital NYFW.
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