Nostalgic Chic

With summer coming to an end and fall right around the corner, many of us will begin rewatching our favorite vintage shows. Scrolling through TikTok, I’ve noticed the enduring impact that shows from the late '90s to the late 2000s still have on our style choices—even among younger generations who are just discovering classics like Sex and the City or The OC. What strikes me most is the lack of inspiration in contemporary shows, despite being marketed as fashion-centric.

Marissa Cooper, The OC. Everett Collection Inc / Alamy Stock Photo via British Vogue

The late '90s to early 2010s are hailed as the golden era of television, a period where shows did so much more than entertain with their drama and wit; they became style bibles. The fashion of this era was marked by unapologetic fun and flair. Think Carrie Bradshaw strutting through New York City in Manolos and Galliano's Dior, Marissa Cooper’s endless collection of Karl Lagerfeld’s Chanel (even if some was faux in Season 1), Blair Waldorf’s opulent preppy aesthetic, and Jenny Humphrey’s goth chic. These characters were more than just TV icons—they were trendsetters and muses whose impact extended far beyond the small screen.

This leads me to some critical questions: Why do these shows remain so impactful today? And how does nostalgia play a part in this?

To answer, we need to consider contemporary shows. While they’re entertaining, their fashion, though luxurious, lacks the inspiration of their predecessors. Shows like The Queen's Gambit or Bridgerton do manage to stand out, yet they are set in different time periods. In contrast, shows like Emily in Paris (where the true fashionista is Sylvie), And Just Like That, and even the ill-fated Gossip Girl reboot seem to try too hard, following trends instead of setting them, and failing to resonate in a meaningful way with the current zeitgeist. In my opinion, the fast-paced trend cycle is to blame—the need to keep up steers designers away from the act of creating something that feels original and true to a character.

While researching these shows and public opinion, I realized something crucial: characters in older shows dressed like contemporary women of their time. Currently, it seems that costume designers focus more on showcasing labels rather than creating a cohesive, inspiring aesthetic for the characters. This results in fashion that feels disingenuous and, at times, outright ridiculous.

Fashion is a never-ending cycle, with trends being reborn from their predecessors—hence the rising popularity of vintage. Nostalgia triggers a sense of escapism from doomscrolling and perfectly curated Instagram feeds, offering a way out of our chronically online times. In an era of microtrends and overconsumption, many of us crave something authentic and simple. With current culture feeling increasingly artificial, we often turn to nostalgia to feel better—romanticizing pre-digital times through fashion. Perhaps wearing low-rise jeans, hobo bags, or a specific archival dress somehow aligns us with a time when we weren’t constantly bombarded with information, pictures, and data; it allows younger generations to associate with, or dare I say, cosplay a time when we didn’t live stuck to our phones, observing others through a screen, but rather were present, living our lives in our clothes. Maybe, for others, nostalgia is a stepping stone for innovation—young people turn to the past and mix it up with future trends to find their own personal taste.

Perhaps this reflects a broader shift in how fashion is consumed today and the cultural resonance—or lack thereof—of these newer shows compared to the iconic status of their predecessors. The '90s and 2000s weren't just a golden age for TV; they were a defining moment in fashion, one that continues to inspire us, even as we move further away from that era. Personally, I’ve had Marissa and Carrie as constant references when styling myself and even when creating a wishlist or vision board. I might not dress exactly like them, but their fashion choices have inspired me in terms of styling and knowledge of specific pieces. And most importantly, the idea of having fun with my wardrobe has been omnipresent through the years, and that makes me very happy.

Mariana Parodi

Mariana, born in Lima and raised in Miami, now enriches Milan's creative landscape. Her diverse heritage fuels her artistic endeavors, spanning from lingerie-inspired knitwear to fashion communication and writing. A communications and marketing graduate from Peru, she furthered her studies in fashion design at Milan's Nuova Accademia di Belle Arti. Mariana's multifaceted career includes designing, magazine internships, styling, and retail work, providing her with deep insights into the fashion industry's dynamics. Her passion drives her to constantly explore new challenges, blending professionalism with creativity.

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