Quiet Luxury My Ass
If you followed any style conversations in 2023, you know it has all been about quiet luxury and old money. So I am months if not years late with this post and you may be sick and tired of reading about it, but this topic still triggers me. And it’s my blog, so here we go.
To begin with, there is significant confusion around what quiet luxury is and its relationship with other similar aesthetics. Not that I have any definitive answer to it either, but I believe the consensus tends to form around natural fabrics (silk, cashmere, other fine wools), simple but very well constructed cuts, neutral colours, no logos and high price. For me, it is giving Gwyneth Paltrow in the courtroom and Mary-Kate Olsen with her beaten-up Birkin. It is about more classic pieces from brands like The Row, Phoebe Philo, Khaite and Tove (these brands also do very high-concept stuff, which to my mind is too statement to be quiet luxury). Quiet luxury is a Khaite cashmere cardigan with your favourite jeans, The Row coat thrown over your shoulders, old Celine handbag in the crook of your arm and a general air of nonchalance and understatement.
Two brands that are often invoked – Loro Piana and Brunello Cucinelli – seem more stealth wealth than quiet luxury to me, although it is an open question whether one can speak about any stealth or quietness after the insane exposure of all these brands in recent times. To my mind, quiet luxury has more of a fashion edge which stealth wealth lacks: for all the influence it’s had, Succession is not a fashion-forward show and these two brands are about (subtly) signalling status and wealth, not making a style statement. Think that Loro Piana baseball cap, a cashmere t-shirt from Bottega and those ubiquitous Brunello Cucinelli loafers. If you prefer, you may of course lump these two categories together and for the purposes of this rant, it doesn’t really matter.
While you are at it, you can add old money, the preppier and/or more glamorous sibling of quiet luxury and stealth wealth. Old money also scorns labels and trends, but it wants you to know that it is playing tennis or riding or sailing – think tweed blazers and riding boots; polo shirts, sundresses and white shorts; Ralph Lauren and classic Chanel. My favourite sub-genre of old money is ‘shabby English lord’ – in particular when this style is adopted by women – which requires that the tweed blazer has some moth-holes and the wellies can only come in khaki.
There are a number of positive things about all of this – the focus on quality, cut and longevity in particular. Most of us could use more of that and I personally enjoy many elements of these aesthetics, although I draw a line at that baseball cap (the vicuna version costs 1700 euros). But the three also have something less admirable in common and that’s the obsession with looking wealthy: it is essentially cosplaying as rich people.
Now, I am not against adopting aesthetics that do not fully align with one’s lifestyle; I am not even against trying to look better off than one actually is. I am partial to the dark academia vibe myself and if girls want to look like ballerinas without putting in the daily practice and ruining their feet, I see no reason why they shouldn’t. Fashion is supposed to be, among other things, a fantasy. I also remember well how important it was in my 20s, on a microscopic budget, to ‘pass’ for someone with more means, someone worldly and professional. If you need to dress up to get that job, to not be discriminated against, to fit in – I get it. I still do it, sometimes.
My fundamental problem with quiet luxury and its siblings – and I do not exclude my own behaviour here – is that out of all the aesthetics, it is the emptiest. At its core, it is not about looking stylish, interesting, intelligent or even pretty (or like a ballerina or a history student at Cambridge), but just about looking rich, which frankly seems an increasingly questionable aspiration in today’s world. It’s about quietly signalling the wealth that one does in fact not have. It is a look imbued with privilege and snobbery, while also being hypocritical about it – doing all that signalling while pretending not to do so, while also knowing that anyone interested in fashion will recognise a Margaux bag. At least wearing your logos proudly is very ‘what you see is what you get’; NOT wearing any logos or turning one’s nose up at ‘loud luxury’ brands doesn’t make anyone morally superior. It is simply classism in sartorial form.
It may also be the only aesthetic where pursuing the look is so clearly in opposition with actually having the related lifestyle. Considering the absolutely insane prices of most quiet luxury brands, dressing in line with this aesthetic* means that for any normal person, actually saving and investing money to become wealthier becomes an impossible task. If you buy that Khaite fair isle sweater and cashmere pants that are perfect for Chamonix after-ski, you no longer have any money left over to go skiing.
There are other issues. I mentioned classism, but quiet luxury is also white AF – and it is not difficult to make a case for it being racist and colonialist. I know most people who buy into these trends simply want a nice coat they can wear several seasons without needing to get a new one, but it doesn’t hurt to think a little about the history that underpins these style codes. All these English lords and Lauren-wearing tennis aficionados, the generational wealth… Is this really whom and what we want to emulate? Especially if you happen to be a middle-aged white person like I am; it reads a bit different on a rebellious black youth.
And finally, thinness. Fashion is of course a thin people’s game anyway, has always been and still is, despite surface-level improvements. But quiet luxury is more wedded to thinness than most trends, partly because it’s so simple: to make that more appealing on page/screen where you cannot see or feel the quality, fashion relies on thinness (the same way ‘the model’s uniform of t-shirt and jeans’ does not necessarily look the same and as purchase-inducing on normal bodies). Because we are all conditioned to see thinness as attractive by default and it is not a coincidence that Gwyneth is quiet luxury’s patron saint. So scrolling the Instagram these days, I sometimes pause to think: is this great style or is she just thin?
This rant is not meant as an attack on anyone who likes their good-quality knits and well-cut trousers and perhaps dreams of an Hermes bag**. As I said, I love many of these things and will continue to wear them. What I am taking issue with is the way these things are framed and communicated in the fashion space and the hypocrisy it encourages; the lack of examination of what it means to invite everyone to dress like fictional media moguls***. Fashion is, of course, often aspirational and loves an ‘if you know you know’ moment, but the quiet luxury discourse really epitomises it for me. It is a different level of insidiousness than “wear red!” or even “buy a Miu Miu bag!”.
So in the spirit of this rant and to shake off all that problematic baggage, I am calling my look here ‘new minimalism’, rather than quiet luxury (it wouldn’t qualify for QL anyway, as my Sambas are too trendy and way too recognisable and my jeans are from Zara). The new minimalism, to my mind, is less stark than the 90s variety, less black-and-white and more neutral, softer in shape and more casual in vibe. In relation to the things already mentioned, I am wearing a La Collection coat, Victoria Beckham bag and Uniqlo sweater.
*You can of course do this on budget, with brands like COS and Uniqlo and shopping vintage. But in this paragraph, I am assuming a total dedication to the cause.
**Or is thin or white.
***There are of course those who have examined it, but it’s not enough for me.
Images by Krõõt Tarkmeel, MUA Gerda Miller.
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Excellent rant!
Thank you! It is certainly very rant-y:)
Food for thoughts. Thank you
You are very welcome!
You make some good points – personally I take objection with quiet luxury because I find it so utterly boring. Also it’s a mind warp – why are people making expensive stuff look plain so they can pretend to look average while actually making sure they look elite? Bring back print and embroidery, work with artists and artisans, bring colour into the world. I’d love to work with artisans and create beautiful things that give pleasure, add beauty and serve a community (pipe dream… – but these labels could actually do it).
Yes, I can also find quiet luxury boring, I have similar objections here as I have with the capsule wardrobe paradigm. But this is more of a personal aesthetic preference than a fundamental issue and as I confess in the text, sometimes (often, in fact) I DO like this simplicity and casual elegance. And while I strongly prefer that not everyone dresses in beige cashmere, the real unease I have about this trend is the intention behind it and what it says about our society. And as the text was rather convoluted already, I mostly left the aesthetic angle out of it, as it’s not a straightforward issue for me.
Regarding pretending – I assume for the actually wealthy, this is driven by the economic reality and the growing ‘eat the rich’ sentiment in many places, the US in particular. It perhaps does not seem like a great idea to cover oneself in logos or anything ostentatious when many people cannot afford the rent and most are facing the cost of living crisis. And the not-actually-that-wealthy are just imitating the elite. I am simplifying, but I am pretty sure this is a part of it.
The good thing about trends is that they go in cycles, so all these neutrals must mean the return of colour – and perhaps even embroidery! – soon 🙂
Agree to all of the above, and in addition I am terribly annoyed by the fact that my penchant for boring clothes (think normcore, just a little more formal) must come these days pre-packaged with all these connotations of classism, racism, and other ugly -isms. Of all things, why did they have to ruin boredom as well?
Hahahaha! An excellent point. Nothing is sacred for these people!
A perspective from a hot climate: while some do wear wool sweaters and non-summer weight clothes (partly because some find air conditioning under 25 degrees Celsius “cold,” and partly I suspect to cosplay as their favorite K-drama), quiet luxury/old money/stealth wealth has a different interpretation in my neck of the woods. For women, shiny freshly blown out hair; clear not-oily but not-powdery complexion; and perfectly unwrinkled clothes in impractical shades of beige, cream possibly some pretty pastel. The fiber (also the fit) doesn’t matter and quite often is very obviously polyester but because the cardinal rule of quiet luxury/stealth wealth/old money is sweating (in our very hot humid climate) is forbidden, synthetic fibers do not cause discomfort. Also because rule # 2 is never to re-wear your clothes, you need to buy a lot hence cut corners somewhere. I do appreciate that effortlessness is a very big part of elegance, that visibly struggling and exerting effort is not aspirational (in spite of still fairly dominant hustle culture), so I don’t mind the emphasis on having immaculate hair and makeup (and body), but what annoys me is the cheap tat and so much effort to gild the polyester lily. So long as it’s new, so long as it’s not wrinkly, it’s a pretty light color, so long as it hints at a slim body but not too too vulgarly revealing, that outfit looks expensive. And is that really what we as a society put a high value on? I would rather value clothes with quality workmanship, or thoughtful design, or at least natural fiber content. Like you said, it feels so empty. To appear to wear expensive clothing ie valuable objects is to wear clothes that are fast fashion trash. I suppose it could be funny and subversive, but so much time and effort is ploughed into maintaining appearances that everyone’s the butt of the joke.
Thank you, this is such an interesting comment! It never occurred to me how the climate would affect this trend/aesthetic, but you are of course absolutely right that it would. I think quiet luxury by nature leans towards colder weather, because of the sumptuousness. It is really interesting how it’s translated into warmer, more humid weather. I also feel that in some warmer places, in particular in Asia, there is generally more focus on polished hair and make-up. In Europe, I think the ultimate status symbol is having such a well-maintained face that you can afford going bare-faced and still look stunning.
Ultimately you put your finger on one of the main issues with quiet luxury. That it becomes only about the aesthetic, losing all the positive elements (quality, craftmanship, slowness) in the process.
Could it be that we’re just over being walking billboards and advertisements for brands, and have instead embraced the concept of wearing well-made clothing without the need to announce who makes it? I’ve never been a logo fan. And maybe the people who are covered in logos are the ones cosplaying rich people.
Some people certainly are tired of logos or were never fans in the first place. As I say in the post, the positive side of quiet luxury is exactly this focus on quality and craftmanship. What I take issue with is that often, this does not seem to be a sincere. People just switch to different brands with smaller logos and then act superior because they don’t wear big logos. And if the recent trends – like the mob wife aesthetic – are anything to go by, I think it’s too early to hope that people have suddenly become uninterested in overt status displays…
Conspicuous consumption obviously has its own problems, but I feel that wearing your brands on your sleeve has been criticised to death and is generally seen as crass and unclassy (although the quality can be excellent). Quiet luxury can be more insidious and hypocritical, because it’s seen as somehow better, while it’s often exactly as consumerist – and extremely classist to boot. So I find this concept in a more urgent need of examination than the old school logomania, which everyone from Naomi Klein to Vogue has addressed for decades. Personally, I am much more in danger of falling pray to discreetly signalling my good taste with a Row bag than wearing LOUIS VUITTON plastered on my chest. This doesn’t make me a better person or my choices less problematic, however.