Lippert sees a direct correlation between today’s lounge-y looks and those early suits. “It strikes me,” she noted, “that the loungewear trend is a reverse empowerment of the ‘power suits’ for an earlier generation of working women.”
Sperling recounted buying up a series of soft cotton jumpsuits, in multiple colours and fabrics, all made in Thailand. “I like to wear clothes I might be able to dance in,” she said. She also cited “leggings and a tank top with a built-in bra” or a “men’s style linen button-down shirt” as favourite uniforms.
Alys George, 45, a cultural historian, favours a similar uniform: Leggings and a long, tunic-like sweater or top, all in black. The height of pandemic lockdowns coincided with George’s recent pregnancy, which only increased her desire for bodily comfort. Post-pregnancy, she remains attached to her new look, a bit to her own surprise.
At its heart, relaxed fashion is democratic, accommodating changes of mind, body and culture. It can be gender-neutral or nonbinary; and it’s body inclusive, flattering diverse shapes, weights and sizes. It’s also potentially a way to do more with less. Many women mentioned relying on the same limited number of items kept in steady rotation. Cason returns routinely to the same five pairs of Eddie Bauer pants in various colours, she said.
In this, relaxed fashion feels very much in keeping with some of today’s most urgent political and social movements. “What you wear reflects your values,” Sperling said.
Relaxed fashion’s appeal extends beyond the over-40 crowd. Several women said that their daughters loved this genre. Faith Stevelman, 61, a law professor at New York Law School, described her 24-year-old daughter’s style as “effortless” and sent a photo of her looking chic in sweats and Doc Martens, adding that both mother and daughter now shop at Madewell. Cason said her 25-year-old daughter prefers simple clothes she can move in, favouring men’s shirts from J Crew and classic items from vintage stores.
Finally, while this trend clearly skyrocketed during the pandemic, it didn’t emerge ex nihilo. Christine de Lassus, 58, a fashion stylist, noted in an email that she “adopted a long time ago the sportswear/streetwear/oversize/minimalist/comfortable and practical fashion that seems to be the new norm.” De Lassus suggested that relaxed fashion finds its roots in prepandemic times, as a response to “the excesses of many high-end designers” and recalled seeing the earliest glimmers of it back in 2008, when Phoebe Philo arrived at Celine “with her minimalist, oversize designs and her glorification of sneakers.”
And if relaxed fashion now seems more street than runway, haute couture is definitely feeling the vibe. Rick Owens is known for his flowing garments, but for fall 2022 he veered toward an outright bedding vibe, featuring what Vanessa Friedman, the chief fashion critic at The New York Times, called “puffer boleros” – pillow-like tubular jackets that encircle the upper body, lending wearers the look of sleepers nestled under down comforters. Dries Van Noten showed inflated jackets and a glamorous sequined bathrobe-like coat. And the Row sent models down the runway in coats so voluminous, they resembled walking sleeping bags.
It’s hard to say how long we’ll stay nestled in our cocoons. Fashion is cyclical. But relaxed fashion was a long time in coming and responds deeply to both the current political moment and some of our innermost desires – for comfort, space and freedom from pain. As a result, I suspect this cycle will be with us for a long time, for women of many ages.
I myself am now in love with my first-ever hoodie (Tahari, black, silky jersey). And Sperling said that her 10-year-old daughter, Evie, recently announced: “I will never suffer pain for beauty.” From the mouths of babes.
By Rhonda Garelick© The New York Times Company
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.