Making the case for uniform dressing: Would you wear the same thing every day?
Exploring decision fatigue and other reasons for spartan style with uniform champion, Kim Hastreiter
I remember wishing I was one of those kids that got to wear a uniform to school. The strict style and the non-thought it took to get dressed in the morning really appealed to 8-year-old me, who spent most mornings agonizing over the choice of hot pink or purple leggings. It wasn't until years later when I was working at a fashion magazine that my dreams of uniform dressing resurfaced. As someone who loves clothes (like, really loves clothes) and spends most of their time talking, reading and writing about them, even I was surprised that the idea of wearing the same outfit every day would appeal to me. Carving out your own style, adhering to a few key pieces you truly love, can prove to be more freeing than a cluttered closet of clothes that don't make you happy. It's what Paper Magazine founder Kim Hastreiter refers to as, "'personal style' which is a thousand percent different from 'fashion'".
In the same vein, Michael Kors heads up a multi-billion-dollar business that hinges entirely on the swaying style pendulum. Yet, watch any interview or runway bow by him from the last 30 years and you'll quickly clock his black blazer, jeans and loafers. Same goes for many of the senior staffers at Vogue, long considered the temple of style arbiters. Former Creative Director Grace Coddington's halo of orange frizz and Fashion Director Tonne Goodman's straight-leg white jeans are near-iconic.
Hastreiter adopted her signature look in her 40s. "I began to feel like I looked foolish dressing like an outrageous clown every day in fashion costumes", she said via email interview. A far cry from the punk looks that made her a Bill Cunningham street style favourite, she wore a simple Yohji Yamamoto full skirt with an Isaac Mizrahi boxy jacket until they became threadbare, then commissioned patterns to be made so she could own them in every colour. Along with her signature cherry red frames (she had 8 pairs made), Nike sneakers and Ted Muehling earrings, her unique uniform was born. "As I age, I wanted much less to dress like a Christmas tree or a traffic light than I did when I was 20 running around the clubs in my crazy looks," she says.
This begs the question, when constantly surrounded by fashion-forward ideas, artists and designers, does uniform dressing come as direct reaction to sensory overload? According to Hastreiter, in her case, it's a symptom of championing the talents of others. "Style is very personal. I am used to shining light on others in my career. Finding talents, nurturing them and screaming about them from the hilltops until people listen." When you are so intently focused on discovering groundbreaking art, it makes sense to adopt a spartan style of your own. "Wearing a uniform that was as plain as a glass of water accessorized by a few small things, that put my own imprint on it, seemed appropriate."
Of course, the idea of uniform dressing extends beyond the fashion world too. The examples are endless. It's almost impossible to think of Steve Jobs without a black turtleneck or Mark Zuckerberg wearing anything but a t-shirt and hoodie. While I'm sure it wasn't his original intention, Zuckerberg is the poster boy for the tech uniform adopted by an entire industry. Even American author, Fran Leibowitz, known for her cynical social commentary, is rarely seen in anything but a menswear-inspired blazer and white collared shirt. It seems as though sticking to your steadfast convictions has a way of bubbling up into your fashion choices.
Historically, the uniform has been used as a great equalizer. Think back to communist and military apparel. The prevailing idea is to blend in as a single unit, wiping clean any sense of individual style and identity. Much the same, school uniforms are at least partly intended to keep the focus on textbooks instead of your lab partner's new boots. But rebelling against the system also carries an element of uniform rigidity. Goth style, for example, was meant to be a visual indicator of resistance, but has come to mean dressing only according to a select set of rules (black, black and more black).
In the end, I think Hastreiter hit the nail on the head when she called it a matter of "personal style". Instead of stifling creativity, uniform dressing allows individuality to shine through amid the white noise of fashion. "[There are] no downsides. It's a blank canvas. You can express yourself with accessories," says Hastreiter. Maybe I should have saved myself the struggle all those years ago and just stuck with the hot pink leggings after all.