how not to look like everyone else pt. III

the “not destroying the Earth” edition!

The past few weeks of fashion week coverage have left me in two, somewhat conflicting, states: drooling over all the beautiful things (Diotima! Prada! Jil Sander! Louise at Bottega!) and also reexamining my relationship to what I actually want to own.

Growing up as an aesthetically-minded black sheep in the world of big tech (this was Silicon Valley in the 80s), it took me into my 20s to acknowledge, without shame, that caring deeply about what we wear is more than a frivolity. Until Bezos found protein powder and Zuckerberg became a fashion designer, the prevailing MO of tech bros was to wear the same thing every day, as to erase any unnecessary decisions from the mind.

Since I can remember, I cared deeply, perhaps too deeply, about what I wore. Even when my taste was young and slightly tacky; the days of baby Ts and Seven jeans and von Dutch hats (yes, von Dutch).

After a decade of working in fashion, experimenting with different personalities and uniforms, it dawned on me that that t…