One of the first times I deeply explored this idea was following the 2017 Met Gala. The star-studded event was celebrating Japanese designer Rei Kawakubo that year, and the dreadfully pretty red carpet looks left me feeling seriously disappointed. For the supposed honoring of an iconic avant-garde designer, the guests showed up looking very… normal. When I eventually made my way to the Met to see the exhibition, my disappointment only grew.
Seeing Kawakubo’s strange and alluring designs in person left me longing to try one on, and I just couldn’t wrap my head around so many people turning down the opportunity to spend the night in wearable art, or even something adjacent to it. What are we doing here? Was looking pretty or sexy or skinny so important that it wasn’t worth a single evening of… fun? Exploration? Adventure? I realized the answer was just that simple. Yes, it is. We as a society are so fixated on the mainstream idea of pretty, that to stray away even just for one night was too big of a risk. For most people, even the rich and famous, it’s more important to look pretty than it is to look interesting, memorable, or even on-theme.
For the handful of stars that did dress the part, there was a clear through-line in their looks. Their outfit choices and styling were all quite different, but with one thing in common: their outfits were “unflattering.” In line with Kawakubo’s lifelong exploration of the human form, the most thematically well executed looks veered the body away from the conventional. Hips, shoulders, and waists were exaggerated. Décolletage and curves were completely obscured.
And yet, despite the departure from the standard feminine silhouettes, these looks were decidedly beautiful. And sure, I’m talking about famously gorgeous, wealthy, privileged people here. But there’s something to be said for a take on a puffer jacket that was so interesting and glamorous, I’m still thinking about it over six years later.
Let’s be honest here. When people use the word “flattering,” it is always in reference to a very specific set of ideals. Those ideals are wrapped up in misogyny, white supremacy, traditional gender norms, fatphobia, and other western beauty standards. When someone describes an outfit, a photo, or an angle as “flattering,” we know exactly what they mean without any further elaboration. And this goes beyond just clothes - it includes all of the ways we do or don’t adorn our bodies. Jewelry, hats, body hair, glasses, and haircuts are all fodder for jabs of being “unflattering.”
“Flattering” styles minimize body parts that we’re taught should be smaller, and emphasizes body parts we’re taught should be bigger. “Flattering” styles disguise the parts of ourselves we’ve been told are flaws, and showcases the parts of ourselves we’ve been told the world deserves access to. “Flattering” styles make us appear thinner (but not too thin), taller (but not too tall), curvier (but not too curvy), and whiter (too white might be okay). “Flattering” is an attempt to force us all into this false middle ground where everyone is the perfect representation of palatable, gender normative, age-appropriate beauty. Whether or not the intention is there, the messaging is pretty clear. If you don’t have long legs, a flat stomach, and a perfect waist to hip ratio, you should be using your clothes to make it look like you do. And if you just so happen to have that very specific shape, the only way to dress is in a way that shows it off.
Boooooo. This shit sucks.
I’ve been working on writing this piece for a little over a month now, and I’ve thought a lot about exceptions. I generally don’t like to present things in a binary, especially when it comes to fashion and style, and I wondered if the idea of banishing “flattering” altogether was too extreme. I’ve decided that I think it’s an appropriate and useful word is in relation to the space around us, particularly in regards to light and color. I do think that lighting can be flattering or unflattering outside of the same restrictions that are implied when it comes to describing the things we physically put on our bodies. This is especially evident for BIPOC, who have historically been ignored when it comes to providing proper lighting for performance, photography, and other visual arts.
As a vintage dealer, I’ve been very intentional over the last three years to avoid using the word “flattering” to describe any of my inventory. It was definitely a term I used somewhat liberally throughout my first year of business, and it’s taken thought and work to eliminate from my copy. I want to sell vintage that makes people happy because they love how they feel wearing it. If part of that is because it makes your shoulders look narrower or your butt look rounder, that’s okay. But I don’t want those restrictions to be the goal or the expectation, and I certainly don’t want to be the one suggesting that they should be. Promoting a garment as “flattering” implies that the bodies and desires of every possible wearer are somehow aligned. Not only will the same exact garment fit very differently on different people, but the purpose of our clothing varies wildly depending on your aesthetic, your lifestyle, and your overall relationship with fashion. What’s bold for me could be tame for you, and what’s sexy to you could be cute to the next person. The garment doesn’t determine the wearer, it’s the other way around.
Some alternative words I’ve used to describe clothing in the place of flattering: sleek, slinky, form-fitting, shapely, stretchy, cinched, structured. I’ve found it helpful to describe the properties of the garment itself in relation to the body, instead of focusing on the body in relation to the garment. Consider the specific elements of a garment that feel flattering to you: is it how the fabric hugs the body? Is it the way the piece fits on a certain area? Descriptors like drape, stretch, and opacity can help illuminate special qualities of a piece that may not necessarily come across in just photos.
I don’t say any of this as a criticism of anyone who uses this word, especially other sellers. Flattering sells, and the idea of “improving” on your appearance is a proven tactic to drive interest and profit. Operating a small business is hard enough as it is, and adjusting your copy to align with body liberation is understandably not a priority for many people out there. That being said, if you have the privilege and the interest in using your words to slowly change the world around you, flattering might just be a good place to start.
Thank you for reading 1-800-VINTAGE! I’m so glad you’re here. If you aren’t already a paid subscriber, I’d love to invite you to consider supporting my work here. Next week, I have a rant-y but hopefully helpful letter for you about sale “holidays.” I’ll be sending it out on Thursday, so you can read it while you ignore a football game or sit on the toilet for so long to avoid your ignorant cousin that your legs go numb. See you then!