Taste Log 006

On fashion month, referencing, and weirdness

First, something to consume: 

The Oscars…happened, once again confirming that we shouldn’t rely on these awards to show us who’s making the best cinema. Watch these films, that are now available on streaming, that either got snubbed or weren’t nominated at all: Nickel Boys, Hard Truths, All The Light We Imagined, Seeds of the Sacred Fig, Evil Does Not Exist, A Different Man, The Fire Inside, Didi, Queer, Dahomey.  

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I’m back with more thoughts for this week’s Taste Log! 

I’d like to say thank you so much to the RLT readers who donated to the organizations I listed in my last Taste Log. It truly warmed my heart to get the sweet emails and to know that people are actually reading this. I’m thinking of doing something like that every month and replacing it with different non-profit organizations and mutual aids, so if you have any you’d suggest, let me know. 

Also, a little self promotion, I got my first byline in T Magazine. I wrote alongside some other writers, including Emilia Petraca of Shop Rat, about 25 Bags and Shoes That Transformed Fashion. It was really fun to go on a nerdy research deep-dive, as a result I found some amazing Carlos Falchi Buffalo bags and decided I want to buy a Fendi Spy Bag this year. 

Last weekend, I went on a perfume tour with my friend Asia Grant, who’s also the founder of Redoux and the Scent Social Club. It was so much fun to experience fragrance this way. Essentially, you take a short questionnaire about what you are looking for in a fragrance and then Asia recommends scents for you to smell on the tour. I love that it’s more about the journey and learning about fragrances and what you like, than solely purchasing something. It reminded me of what makes fragrance so special for me; figuring out notes that really do well on your skin, understanding that things will smell different on you than on other people because we all have different body chemistry, igniting past memories, and letting a scent linger on your skin to see how it changes throughout the day. If you’re looking for something unique to do in NYC, I’d recommend trying Asia’s Nolita fragrance tour. 

Here’s all the things I loved over the past few weeks and some longer thoughts on fall 2025 RTW collections so far. This week, I’m also going to try out the chat feature on the Substack app to send some shopping links and open up the floor for discussions. Stay tuned!

Thoughts On Referencing, Weirdness, and Fall 2025 RTW

“I am fascinated by chic trash. I like ugliness, I don’t like simple, straight, beautiful things.” – Manuela Pavesi 

It’s been a while since going to fashion shows was a part of my full-time job. When I was the fashion director at Teen Vogue, I went to New York Fashion Week and traveled to London, Copenhagen, and Paris twice a year. While fashion month mostly felt like an overwhelming blur, the shows and collections that always stuck with me were the ones that suspended me from the reality of viewing clothing as merely something to own.  Instead, they transported me to another world—one that made me curious about the woman in the clothes. Who is she, and where is she going? Or, in the words of Andre Leon Talley: “They have dinner parties to go to, social functions, opening nights, ballet, opera. They have a lot to do, they have to be dressed, they need new clothes.” Even now, as I view the collections through a screen, that sentiment stays with me while looking through the Fall 2025 collections. 

Colleen Allen | Diotima | Prada

We already know that fasion is in the business of selling us things, but is that an excuse for runway shows and presentations to bore me? Sure, a good RTW fashion show, to some, can be one that shows clothes that will sell. But, a great one tells a story—one that isn’t performative or gimmicky, but elicits emotion. The same thing goes for what makes a great fashion editorial. It’s magical when a brand is able to find the balance between the two. That’s why I disdain the runway shows of brands like Toteme, Khaite, or, more recently, the new Calvin Klein; the women on their runways are devoid of any personality, and that’s not interesting to me. They show clothes that are more complicated than the women themselves (Khaite) or clothes that feel like a sterile regurgitation of what’s trending (Toteme and the new Calvin Klein)—too perfect, too straightforward, too interested in the pursuit of doing what’s right. It’s why they’ll never be talked about on their own accord, always in relation to the source material.

My friend Naima (whose newsletter you should read) and I talk about our disdain of most referencing today—from photography and music to fashion and film—almost every week, and how the problem lies in most creatives leaving the essence of the idea behind in favor of doing the less time-consuming thing: copy, paste. My friend and critic Rachel Tashjian put it poignantly in one of her New York Fashion Week columns for The Washington Post:

“Why is it swoony when the Row jots off old Comme and vintage Chanel references and corny when, say, Khaite does it? Every designer copies, including the greats: There were two simultaneous shows of Azzedine Alaïa’s vintage collections last year in Paris. You need to do it with creativity or integrity. (Or both, though one is enough.) Her references (the Massive Attack soundtrack, the recent runway look rehashing, mimicking last year’s Saint Laurent show design) are not obscure or deep enough to be cool. Take the technique or attitude or worldview of the garment, not just the surface idea.”

To me, a good reference isn’t blatant and derivative but in conversation; there’s no need to stay true to the original idea because you aren’t afraid to take a risk and veer left, injecting it with your point of view. That’s how new ideas come about. Last week, flipping through the Prada Catwalk book, I came across a quote from Miuccia Prada about the intent behind her collections: 

“I have been trying to work without any point of reference, with no preconceived idea beyond what looks new and modern to the eye. It’s much more difficult like that because you are forced to empty your mind and judge everything purely visually.”

That’s why Prada collections feel familiar and disorienting, awkward and ugly, but still desirable, you have to look at it a few times to really digest it; that’s your brain reconfiguring, baby! It’s also why so many other brands try to copy it and fail. Weirdness for the sake of being weird or ugliness for the sake of being ugly carries the same emptiness as being a contrarian without any reasoning for your opposition.

Miuccia isn’t imitating or adhering to established notions; she’s consistently trying to figure out how to break them. Granted, of course, her own inherent references, passions, and observations of culture and women are already ingrained, which is what builds a strong foundation. A dedication to letting them exist but not being stymied by them is what makes distinctive storytelling. It’s what gives brands the freedom to make weird, and sometimes ugly, clothing but still alluring.

Vaquera | Bally | Altuzarra | Eckhaus Latta

Miuccia continued:

“There’s more to fashion than just being appealing. Of course, I am always aware of the importance of that and ultimately make sure clothes work on that level. But it’s much more exciting to just have something interesting to look at and to wear and to experience your body in a different way.”

The collections that I’ve been loving from the Fall 2025 collections embodied this sensibility, varying in degrees of eccentricity: Prada’s paper bag dresses and Bermuda shorts, Marni’s chaotic layering, Bally’s artful yet familiar silhouettes, Diotima’s balance of delicate and indomitable femininity, Colleen Allen’s sexy and perverse Victorianism, Ashlyn’s soulful minimalism, Altuzarra’s new lady who lunches, Anna Sui’s hodgepodge glamour, Dilara Findikoglu’s sacrilegious spirituality, and Vaquera’s bourgeois humor.

Marni } Ashlyn } S.S. Daley | Dilara Findikoglu

I already know how to do things right; what I clamor for when getting dressed is how I can make things a little fucked up, a little weird, and a little wrong. I want to push my imagination, and runway shows are one of the things that help me find the visual language. I don’t need to necessarily relate to or want to wear what goes down the runway to enjoy and feel inspired. I am simultaneously searching for the woman I’d like to be and the woman I’d like to know.

Plus, igniting your imagination through storytelling is just as important—or, in many cases, more so—as seeing some overt statement on the runway. It allows you to be curious, question, and reframe and expand your mind to what’s possible, even if that’s just starting with how you might want to show up in the world every day.

Some things I liked

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