Is it just me, or is every millennial in a style slump?
It starts with the shoes
I have a confession—I’m having a personal style crisis.
Call it an early-thirties slump, a post-pandemic transition, or a period of self-questioning and growth. I don’t know what’s to blame.
But what I do know is it’s not just me.
From new moms navigating their style post-pregnancy, to smart women dissecting the science of jeans, to a fashion writer getting real about dressing for how she actually spends her time, it seems this may be a trend, especially among us females in our thirties and forties.
On the Big Jeans Feelings episode of
, host points out feeling similarly. She says this probably has something to do with having enough adult years under your belt to realize, you don’t have to dress to “fit in” with a certain group and you can do whatever the hell you want.As someone who’s called herself a fashion-lover for as long as she can remember, it feels weird to feel this way.
I’ve always loved clothes and shoes as a way to express myself. When I was a toddler, I somehow pulled a shoe off the Nordstrom rack into my stroller, unbeknownst to my mom until we tried to leave the store and the anti-theft alarm went off. Oops.
It seems I knew what I liked early on.
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As I was drafting this essay, I came across this excerpt from a blog post I wrote back in 2018, at a time when I appeared to also be experiencing a shift in my style:
Throughout high school and college, I used to gravitate towards the witty graphic tees, fun patterns, and statement-making shoes (once I even rocked a wild pair of red cheetah print Current/Elliott jeans).
I considered my style trendy with a bit of an edge at times. Think black snakeskin pointy-toed flats walking around my college campus, as opposed to the Uggs or simple ballet flats everyone else wore.
Flash forward half a decade, 5+ years into my post-college career, and I think I’ve gone basic. Basic as in, dressed in simple clothing, i.e. timeless shapes/silhouettes in solid colors. A white button up dress shirt with a pair of nice jeans, and a leather jacket thrown on top. Or a solid-colored cashmere sweater with jeans and a pair of ankle boots.
I don’t consider myself to have a “uniform”, per se, but I look in my wardrobe now and it’s filled mostly with these basic pieces (although I still have a weakness for cheetah print).
Clearly this style shift was intentional and I’m proud to see that I remained true to myself. I’ve certainly held onto those wardrobe staples, usually opting to spend more on those, but I still have a soft spot for witty prints. (Case in point, I recently wore this t-shirt.)
In reflecting on the style crisis I’m facing now, I realized my biggest struggle was at the office.
Workplace style is something I’ve never before struggled with, since I could seamlessly blend my style with the casual office environments I’ve had in the past.
When I worked for a clothing company for the first time, I finally felt like my passion for fashion was recognized. Because of the nature of our brand, many women having gone to merchandising or design school, I was surrounded by others who loved fashion. I found my office to be a breeding ground for outfit inspo.
Nike, however, is a different beast entirely. Rather than feeling inspired by the wide array of fashion displayed on campus, I instead felt a pressure to fit in with the sneaker culture.
Prior to working for Nike, I didn’t often wear sneakers to work, instead opting for a plethora of boots in the fall and winter months, and flats and sandals in the warmer months. While you're not required to wear Nike shoes on campus, you’re strongly discouraged from wearing competitor brands. So it’s perfectly fine to wear leather ankle boots or classic Birkenstocks, but you’d better not be caught wearing Adidas or Hokas on your feet.
When I first started working there, I bought two pairs of Nike sneakers to get me started, for the only ones I already owned were for the tennis court. I immediately felt like I needed more, once I began to observe the sneaker culture on campus.
While I knew it was perfectly acceptable to wear sandals or boots to work, and I saw people do it, I for some reason felt weird anytime I wore shoes other than Nikes. In my first year working there, I’d often comment to my partner on “missing” a specific pair of shoes that sat unworn in my closet, like my black Sam Edelman loafers that were a mainstay in my Hanna years. Yet if I tried to wear something other than sneakers, I felt abnormal. Nobody actually commented on my shoe choice, but I could feel myself prepared at any moment to defend my choice.
Logically it didn’t make any sense, but emotionally it did. I slowly began to realize that what I thought was FOMO was actually self-consciousness. A fear of not fitting in, of being seen as “other.”
As I journaled 14 months ago: “Maybe it’s not so much FOMO but feeling like I’m lacking that physical thing that makes me feel like I belong? I think this may point to a greater “conscious consumer” thing I am facing — wanting to buy and wear Nike products that I probably wouldn’t buy otherwise, grappling with the sense of needing/wanting and what’s driving my purchase behavior, knowing that it’s propelled by motivations that aren’t exactly “good” ones.”
In my two years there, I’ve accumulated 14 pairs—a number that is way higher than it would be if it weren’t for being employed there, but is so much lower than the average employee. I’ve honestly been proud of my ability to limit spending for the sake of falling prey to the sneaker culture that doesn't feel true to me. I’ve tried to remain conscious of why I am buying a particular shoe—is it because I truly like the style, or is it because the style is popular?
The truth is, it's a blurry line. I think I’ve gotten better at sussing out my true motivation, but herein lies the root of real conscious consumption. The hardest (and perhaps scariest) part is being honest with yourself.
My favorite part of dressing myself has always been the shoes—I firmly believe a girl can never have too many. Shoes are my favorite way to style an outfit, and I think in switching over to almost entirely sneakers, I lost a part of my self.
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So what am I doing about it?
Inspired by this post from writer
, I recently decided to start snapping pictures of myself in the office bathroom in an effort to document my daily looks. Admittedly, I felt a bit foolish at first, trying to quickly snap a few pics before someone inevitably walked into the bathroom and caught me in my vanity.1
I also decided to give Nuuly2, a clothing rental service, a try after thinking about it for months. Originally motivated by wanting different dresses for a couple summer weddings, I thought it'd be a neat way to experiment with my everyday style too.
When I look back on the library of 16 office outfits I’ve captured in the past six weeks, my favorites don’t feature sneakers. Those that do are complemented by clothing that is bold enough to make a statement, to otherwise make the outfit feel like me (coincidentally both Nuuly pieces).
Perhaps it’s the summer heat making me stir crazy or the self-awareness I’ve woken up to; either way, it’s time to reclaim my forgotten sole-mates.
And hopefully in doing so, I’ll find my style there too.
Have you ever grappled with your style? How do you make sure you remain true to it?
Shoutout to my friend Jenna who admitted she too has done this at work. I immediately felt seen! 😆
Full disclosure: This is my Nuuly referral link. If you give it a try, you’ll get $30 off your first month and I’ll get $10 off my next one.
I totally feel this! And since working remotely, I feel like I don’t really own any “real” clothes anymore, just cozy things like leggings and yoga pants. I’ve heard great things about Nuuly though, I have friends that have used it and rented really cute stuff! I might need to try it
Moving to the beach had made me struggle with my look! I've gravitated toward tees and sweatshirts and being comfy ... but last night went to a neighbor's for wine and dessert and she had on a cozy long cardigan while sitting on the deck ... so much classier than a sweatshirt I thought! Anyhow, I'm here to say that your style will always change/evolve. But I also miss my "soul-mates" that have been hiding in the closet since moving to a sandy environment :) Oh - and you look cute in all your outfits! I like the Nuuly experimentation!