As part of a recent interview to promote season two of Shrinking, an Apple TV+ comedy about therapists, Harrison Ford was asked about short shorts.
This isn’t as weird as it sounds. The question, specifically, referenced a certain notable pair of short shorts that Ford wore in a proto-‘fit pic snapped at the 1982 Cannes Film Festival — tiny, navy blue shorts, with a perfect upper-mid-thigh inseam.
Once innocuous, this particular photograph has gained mythical status in recent years. Sometimes accompanied in a carousel with a number of Paul Mescal snapshots, it’s been bandied about across social media as a visual example of the platonic short-shorts ideal. Menswear guys literally cannot get enough of it.
But Ford, when asked if he was aware of the photo and its impact, delivered one of the more percipient one-liners in recent memory: “I think I’m going to be ill.”
Beyond being an objectively hilarious way to big-dick GQ, Ford’s response has stuck with me as an accurate temperature check on the vibes surrounding men’s style this past year. Perhaps it’s my own biases as a longtime observer-cum-participant who eats, sleeps and breathes all things menswear, but I can’t help but notice a worrying change in the art (read: obsession) of collecting clothes and getting dressed.
Namely, that seemingly everyone — everyone who cares enough to spend $630 on a pair of Our Legacy Camion Boots, that is — is buying the same thing. They’re following the same half-dozen moodboards, participating in the same tired Westernwear trends, copying the same ALD-esque product imagery (which, in turn, was copied from, say, Ralph — and the world keeps spinning).
Menswear as a niche — and a market — has seen an explosion of interest in recent years. There’s more access to better resources on how to dress better and shop better, and tons of excellent, interesting clothing being produced. It should be a boom time for me and all my garment-invested brethren.
And yet. One peek at Instagram’s Explore page should indicate that style is also more homogenized than ever. A combo of rampant oversaturation and face-value engagement has led to a less energized and, frankly, less interesting form of menswear compared to 10, or even just five years ago, where idiosyncrasy, obscurity and, above all, research were defining dogmas.
I realize this all sounds very “back in my day.” Perhaps these worries can be chalked up to a new iteration of fast-paced churn in an increasingly consumer-facing world. Maybe we’ve simply hit the bottom of the well when it comes to the way that men get dressed. Maybe the final form of menswear has become fully realized. Maybe the ‘fit pics of Harrison Ford have finally run dry.
But it doesn’t seem that I’m totally alone in what I’m clocking. My worries are eerily similar to those captured in a viral essay posted earlier this year on Deez Links — a “culture and online fixation report” Substack, run by author and culture journalist Delia Cai, which allows the media elite to air grievances anonymously — which decried the current state of menswear as “down bad right now.”
The 24 Style Moments That Defined 2024
From the Oscars to the Olympics, this year was full of massive ‘fits. Here are the ones that really mattered.The explicitly titled rant eviscerates this era of men caring too much about the cult of #Menswear over their own personal style, citing nonstop algorithmic inundation and a trend-induced culture of sameness that celebrates starter-pack style as the major perpetrators for the frustrations I, and, anecdotally, many of my industry peers, have come to feel about the menswear landscape in recent years.
This begs the question: If the style inspiration served to you in your various feeds is lacking, where should you turn instead? It’s the question that I — given both my job as a style editor and my more personal investment as a freak enthusiast — have spent the better part of a year contemplating.
The solution came to me earlier this year, as it so often does, via Chloë Sevigny. In particular, it was a street-style photo of the perennial it-woman vibing in a nautical-striped anorak from the coveted Gap x Palace collab, plaid skirt and gorped-out ballet flats that absolutely floored me.
It’s an excellent outfit for about a billion reasons: visually stimulating, fits perfectly, incorporates deep-cut cult brands, blends colors and textures and patterns and fabrics. But beyond the aesthetics, this look opened up my sartorial third eye to a distinctive, if not embarrassingly new possibility. Maybe the answer to our general menswear ennui is…women?
I’d like to clarify that I am, contrary to the r/malefashionadvice stereotype, aware of women, and the fact that them expertly rocking menswear is neither new nor surprising; much akin to the aforementioned Harrison Ford flick, few people have been able to capture the menswear imagination with just a few ‘fit pics as Princess Diana or, more inexplicably, Martha Stewart. Similarly pertinent to this conversation, but better expounded upon elsewhere, is the need to combat the notion of a binary, gendered set of dressing standards altogether. Menswear is a useful catchall for describing a specific type of clothing — but it is far from a prescription of what anyone can and should wear. Suffice it to say that when I am discussing clothing, I’m doing so from my personal experience, and with my personal tastes in mind.
But when I suggest that it’s women who have been teaching me about menswear this year, I’m not talking about women in sharp-shouldered Armani suiting, nor am I talking about trying to pull off the Miu Miu micro-skirt. (I don’t have the legs for it.)
What I’m trying to suggest is simpler than any of that: Menswear can be a sweaty, jawns-fueled echo chamber, but style — and the truths we can draw from it — is universal, and the exercise of very intentionally looking to women for inspiration beyond the odd menswear crossover is one way to tap into that.
Take the Chloë Sevigny look. I don’t have much interest in a pleated maxi skirt, and they don’t make those sick Ecco ballet hikers in my size. But there’s so much to be gleaned from the ensemble: the surprisingly solid color combo of a blue-yellow stripe and a black-white check, for instance, is one that I’m supremely interested in incorporating into my own wardrobe by means of this Our Legacy zip jacket–Adidas short shorts pairing.
Once your mind is open to this kind of thinking — and your internet scrolling patterns are open to Vogue social handles and Substacks like The Cereal Isle — getting dressed, or even just collecting fodder for your 2025 vision board, may just become exhilarating again. In one of my top style moments of the year, Kaia Gerber reintroduced the idea of wearing sneakers back into my loafer-mesmerized brain.
If you need more goodness from my year of looking to women to inform my style, A-list cover shoots with stars like Ayo Edebiri and Charli XCX illuminated new, exciting aesthetics to pursue. (Prep-school-chic-meets-officecore and BRAT-green grunge, respectively. One worked for me, one really did not.) Kristen Stewart directly informed my hairstyle.
Revelations haven’t been limited to copy-paste ‘fitspo, either. Laura Reilly, author of fashion girlie-beloved Substack Magasin, has introduced me to more designers, and on-sale clothing, than perhaps all of the major menswear publications combined. And just think of the female archives — countless seasons of Comme, Prada, Hermès, all waiting to be parsed through to power your next big ‘fit (and maybe, if you’re feeling adventurous, your next big purchase, too).
Maybe you’re much more evolved than I am, and this is all old hat to you, and you think I’m an idiot for overlooking such a simple consideration and more of an idiot for writing about it like it’s any kind of novel conception. I will simply bid you kudos and tell you to keep at it. But for the endless number of bros, fellas, men who, like me, had never even considered the idea that the biggest asset for menswear has been, and remains, womenswear, this is your wake-up call. There’s a brave new world of possibilities out there waiting for you. Just ask the ladies.
More Like This
This article was featured in the InsideHook newsletter. Sign up now.
