A Spring (Style) Feast
Conjuring fiddleheads and skirt weather with this five-course experience
While the temperature continues to bounce around like a sine wave, there are telltale signs that spring is imminent. Eager tulips are beginning to pushing out of lifeless dirt patches. A blue jay was spotted amongst throngs of overfed sparrows. My coat rack is awkwardly top-heavy, weighed down by lighter jackets atop thick parkas, an umbrella looped over a wool scarf.
Like my impatient desire to crouch in loamy soil and dig up bulbs of wild leek (responsibly, of course), I’m itching to unearth my favourite warm weather pieces from storage. Shake out their slumber-induced wrinkles and place them back into view—a spring cornucopia within my closet.
Joining my anticipation to shed winter’s bulk is this bubbling urge to experiment with new style concepts that have been percolating in my head. All through the quiet winter, I have been foraging for ideas. Tucking seeds of inspiration away for a warmer day, to germinate under more favourable conditions.
It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the bottomless well of inspiration out there, by what others are wearing. At the same time, I believe our individual styles benefit from being in dialogue with the broader world to some extent. We evolve and connect by intaking and reinterpreting creativity.
Over the past few months, I’ve been poring through my saved images: pattern-finding, synthesizing, paying attention what’s actually sticking in my brain of the myriad inputs I interact with on a daily basis. Through this process, I’ve begun to prioritize concepts that I actually want to articulate in real life—ideally making use of what I already have in my closet.
There are two ways to approach this: 1) by emulating referential outfits, and 2) through intuitive styling, broadly applying your themes of interest. I’ll demonstrate both in my gallery of fantasized outfits for the warmer weeks ahead.
The Style Brief for Spring
First, I want to give you some context on my personal dressing needs and goals. I recently discovered Architects Play (pure delight for a design nerd like me) and greatly appreciated this genius translation of the “design brief” to our wardrobes.
In design work, the brief provides the instructions for a project, articulating a set of desired outcomes, problems to be addressed, and constraints to adhere to—a blueprint for what success looks like. Good briefs, per the article’s thesis, leave room for ambiguity. Are less about prescribing answers—what a typical wishlist purports to do.
When wardrobe planning, I have often defaulted to being “object-centred”, framing a list of specific wants as the solution to my outfit problems and perceived closet gaps. What if, instead, I adopted the “brief” model, focusing first on how I want to look, “where friction points lie, and what patterns of daily life [my outfits] need to accommodate”? How might I use the jumping off points I generate to then explore possible answers—which may exist in my wardrobe already?
My brief for this spring is, well, brief. The last two years I dove head-first into resolving functional dressing issues related to being a new parent, and came out with a solid selection of playground shoes and a sense for what garments can withstand a day of messy meals and play.
Style-wise, I’m also pretty content with what I’ve been putting together. I feel good in my habitual outfits—amazing, occasionally. And I want to continue on this track of dressing in ways that feel satisfying, fun, and reflective of my creative sensibilities.
To me, “finding one’s style” is easy. Expressing it in the context of real life—and doing it consistently—is what’s hard. When I picture the ideal version of my style for spring (which will quickly slide into summer), there are five dimensions I’d to push myself to go beyond my usual range in, spurred by the inspirational images that have captured my imagination. These are:
Silhouette
Colour
Aesthetic
Styling
Formality
Let’s get into it.
1. Silhouette
Silhouette is about the contours of an outfit, the shapes and proportions conveyed by an assemblage of garments.
My go-to silhouettes tend to read straight-lined and balanced, even when I’m wearing oversized pieces. They lack visual drama, but that’s how I feel most comfortable: not taking up any more space in the world than I need to.
However, I’ve noticed that a substantial portion of the images I’ve been squirrelling away feature a fuller skirt or wide pair of culottes, usually anchored with sleek footwear. Exploring this midi-length-wider-bottom situation is definitely on my radar for spring—be it with a slouchy top that extends to my hips or one of the many form-fitting crop tops I own.
Here are four quick takes on this silhouette, using my existing wardrobe (apologies in advance if creases bother you).
The first is a remake of the far-left inspiration image: a masculine, oversized jacket with the sharp, pleated skirt I purchased earlier this year. Although my skirt doesn’t quite possess the same volume and length, I think the proportions work here—and the shorter skirt is much more practical for chasing a kid who likes to make a game of bolting away. The second sweater-on-skirt look is one I’d wear in a heartbeat, though the cotton wrap skirt feels a bit flat, not quite hitting the trapezoid-shaped-bottom mark.
I was stumped and unsure how I could go further without adding something new until I remembered I had these old black linen culottes—the perfect garment for this challenge. They’d been stored away for a few years on account of being a cat hair magnet, but was thinking of bring them back now that we are (sadly) down a feline. These pants look great with the mid-calf leather boots I recently bought from Poshmark (waterproof and ready for April showers) and a fitted top.
Additional ingredients to gather:
Evidently, I have what I need to execute this silhouette, but there are a few related items still on my wish/DIY-list:
Another pair of culottes (or really long shorts) in dark denim or pillowcase material
A slightly fuller skirt made of taffeta or poplin
2. Colour
This domain is about colour composition: the palette of solids and patterns—overlaid with texture—that often makes an immediate visual impression.
Colour is an area I think I do well in. I have a wardrobe stocked with non-neutrals and am not afraid to go bright.
To further hone my skills as a colour DJ, I want to play with more striking combinations, adventuring more into colour-blocking instead of taking the safe, muted-tones-with-a-pop-of-colour route.
These days, I’m finding colour inspiration everywhere: from masters like Ritika to grocery store bouquets to my toddler’s rainbow outfits (through which I vicariously live out my colour-mixing fantasies). There’s no doubt I’m particularly attracted to bright, springy shades at the moment: yellows, oranges, greens, and blues that conjure images of flower-dotted meadows under cerulean skies.
I felt like my brain was overflowing with ideas here, but I’ve restrained myself to depicting just four satisfying and fresh ways to wear colour this spring.
Trendy shades like butter and lemon yellow are on the menu, as are my long-loved olive green, denim blue, and cherry red. More recent paramours like burgundy, grass green, mango, and aqua are also in the mix. The bubblegum pink skirt is a bit of a wardrobe wildcard—a piece that won Barbie summer but has languished since.
For me, wearing colour on colour works best when the outfits are clean and minimalist in concept. When I go big in this dimension, I want to do less in others. Be the Rothko, not the Pollock. Still, I want there to be textural variety: knits next to wovens, tough fabrics next to delicate ones.
Additional ingredients to gather:
Something in persimmon or red orange (maybe another silk knit tank)
Something in forest green (maybe a skirt or pair of shorts)
A brightly-coloured pair of shorts or cropped pants
3. Aesthetic
Without getting too technical, I’m referring to the expression of one’s taste: the themes and visual elements that emit a particular perspective on what’s beautiful and beguiling.
My overall aesthetic is layered, and I refuse to participate in the marketing exercise of defining my three words. In broad strokes, I know I’m drawn to visual simplicity, with a penchant for gender-mixing styles and utilitarian details.
The part of my aesthetic leanings that I’d like to capture more in real-life dressing is my love for vintage and antique clothing. I’m talking Edwardian blouses, Victorian undergarments, pieces that look like they could have been rescued from a trunk in the Titanic wreck. I actually own and wear a lot of vintage already, though most of it dates to more recent eras and doesn’t obviously come off as vintage.
I’ve saved a lot of references for ways these historic garments may be incorporated into contemporary outfits, juxtaposed with casual, modern staples like jeans, loafers, and sweatshirts. There are clear ways to make this aesthetic wearable and palatable in today’s context without appearing costume-like. However, doing it in a way that makes practical sense as a parent of a small child (with not a lot of patience for laundry) is another matter.
Wearing priceless antiquities is unreasonable for my life and budget at the moment. So when I’m looking to dial up this aesthetic in my everyday outfits, I’m looking to emulate the vibe, not necessarily go for historical accuracy. For example, wearing 80’s-does-20’s instead of a real, fragile piece from the period it evokes.
I have two pieces that fit this bill: a pin-tucked blouse from the 90’s and an unlabelled vintage skirt with ruffled panels that reminds me of old petticoats. I also have a pair of antique lace-edge bloomers sourced from Italy that I spontaneously picked up at a vintage shop last summer. Psychologically, it feels risky to be wearing century-old, semi-sheer white bottoms, but I’m trying to remember that these were someone’s underwear at one point. Let it be worn!
Additional ingredients to gather:
There isn’t much on my immediate wishlist related to this theme, but there are a few holy grail garments I’d be thrilled to come across secondhand (if the condition and price were also right):
Antique blouses and tunics (perhaps overdyed because I can’t be trusted with anything white)
Antique skirts and petticoats
A fancy evening jacket (how amazing is this one?)
4. Styling
Styling is about how the outfit comes together—the arrangement of clothing and accessories to create a look that feels intentional and personal.
My approach to styling has greatly evolved since I started writing on this platform—from staunchly identifying myself as a simple, unadorned dresser to embracing nonessential elements that make visual and emotional impact. For me, successful styling is not about adding complexity for the sake of having more to look at, but adding in those personal flourishes that bring an outfit to life.
I still prefer styling that looks uncomplicated and cheerful, featuring contrasting pops of colour or components that shine and create motion (loving a beaded fringe at the moment). I’m also drawn to layering that adds levels and interest, while being practical; there’s nothing worse than being stuck in an artfully sandwiched composition that doesn’t suit the weather.
My styling ambitions for the season ahead includes continuing to play with interesting brooch placements à la Joni Mitchell, and incorporating special touches when the mood strikes. A lot of the examples I like use bags to inject colour and visual interest—an accessory I pretty much never use when my essentials could be crammed into pockets instead. Alternatively, I’ll be leveraging what I do have and wear—scarves, socks, jewelry, and shoes—to similar effect.
The two middle outfits I’ve put together are direct recreations of inspirational looks, adapted to my taste and wardrobe. I love the concept of of layering a cardigan under a buttoned shirt (a flip on the expected order) and a neutral, high-contrast outfit with eye-catching accessories.
Additional ingredients to gather:
A shiny/colourful crossbody tote bag for when pockets aren’t enough (hoping to DIY this with some fabulous thrifted fabric)
A beaded necklace with shine and/or colour
Experimental brooches made of scrap fabric and beads (another DIY ambition)
5. Formality
There’s cocktail, black tie, white tie types of formality—dress codes on wedding invitations that are sometimes difficult to decipher. Then, there’s formality as it applies to everyday life, which I interpret to be the level of “polish” in an outfit—the combination of materials, garment types, tailoring, and styling that conveys whether the wearer meant to dress up, down, or somewhere in between.
This dimension has a natural tie-in to “aesthetic”, but whereas one encompasses a broad array of visual themes (some of which can be graded along the formality spectrum), here I’m talking more specifically about the the intersection between the clothes we want to wear and sociocultural dressing conventions.
My life is undeniably casual, but I often fantasize about wearing more formal fashions: tailored trousers, sharp jackets, ballroom skirts, and silken everything. In today’s sportswear-dominant society (especially in North America), just wearing a blazer or dress in non-stretch fabric can attract unsolicited comments. Why are you so dressed up? Are you going somewhere?
I’m not saying we should go back to when women had to change into five dresses a day to be socially presentable, but I would personally like to experiment with wearing outfits that feel more put-together than the norm. Dishing a side of opulence not normally seen outside of special occasions—on a mom nonetheless.
I used to do be more daring with subverting implicit dress codes, wearing silk blouses and skirts unapologetically while people milled around me in jeans and t-shirts, giving a nod to others with a similar agenda. But since having a kid, I’ve definitely fallen into a uniform of comfy, casual attire. What does it mean to reclaim this aspect of my style—and how can I do it in a way that makes practical sense for where I am today?
First off, these are unlikely outfits for a day engaged in sleeves-rolled-up parenting. My forays into increased formality must still respect context; these are outfits I’m imagining for a day at the office, a nice dinner out, or a solo afternoon in the city—occasions that arise regularly throughout the month but I haven’t made a habit of dressing up for, despite an eagerness to do so.
Based on the inspiration I’ve shared, I have a predilection for contrasting separates, fabrics that shine, long skirts or pants, and a more serious colour palette—along with my trademark pops of colour. All of the outfits I put together are skirt- or dressed-based (mostly because I don’t own fancy pants), bringing together pieces that feel luxurious or flamboyant with oft-worn tops that are still polished in nature. For shoes, I played with different directions: neutral frumpy-chic loafers, strappy heeled sandals that amp up the sensuality, and tough black boots that clash with the elegance up top in an interesting way.
Additional ingredients to gather:
A sleek, structured jacket (preferably collar-less) in a lustrous fabric
A voluminous skirt or pair of trousers in a lustrous fabric (also love a moiré pattern)
Over the course of writing this piece, we went from a freezing -10°C morning to a balmy 17°C afternoon. I haven’t made my official closet-switch over yet, but putting together this look book has only fuelled my desire. Do I dare? Is winter really over?
Anyhow, I hope you’re feeling satisfied and nourished by this spring sartorial feast I’ve cooked up. What are you eating? Please feed me your style ideas; I’ve saved some room for more.
Love your new rainboots! I've felt a pull for shorter skirts, but don't quite know what shape.
Loved this and also inspired to find a pair of culottes again (remembering a less dramatic linen pair I had from Steven Alan, also circa 2016)