decoding coded dressing

or the beaten-up ‘quiet luxury’.

In the past years, a new aesthetic that opposes the constant flow of trends has evolved. It is the pinnacle of luxury, achieved through quality, not quantity. Although an obvious concept, it is still in sharp contrast to the very idea of fashion. Fashion survives in the new and now. Case in point, ‘cores’ emerge on social media every few weeks, appealing to tastemakers and followers alike.

What I call ‘coded dressing’ (or the beaten-up ‘quiet luxury’) is a return to simplicity through elevated everyday dressing. Although a return to simplicity, it doesn’t mean austerity. Au contraire. It is an aesthetic in which exclusivity rules. This is for those who cherish a vintage mini-Kelly bag, a luxurious cashmere sweater, and vintage jeans. It is more than a trend; it is a mood that goes beyond one’s wardrobe and touches every aspect of life.

Otherwise known as quiet clothes, these pieces are a direct antagonist of (guess what?) loud clothes. While the former refers to exquisite textiles and textures, muted colors, and understated silhouettes, the latter refers to bold colors and patterns, monograms, and exaggerated silhouettes that wink at a specific moment in time. Though reminiscent of the 1990s, the simplistic and minimalistic styles have a modern approach to design that picked up from where Martin Margiela’s Hermès might have left off.

Essentially, coded dressing is about pieces that remain constant and coherent with the contemporary man or woman busy with quotidian life. Therefore, these pieces are often considered classics that stand the test of time. Classics, but not basics. It is about pieces that people wear once trends have worn off. Such pieces offer both simplicity and versatility that provide multiple choices of wearing.

Although it consists of separates that, at first, could be mistaken as coming from Gap, they feature intricate details down to the choice of thread. It is their craftsmanship that ensures both longevity and luxury. Cashmere, silk, leather, and even cotton are perfectly crafted into timeless, effortless clothes. Such artistry comes with expensive price tags. But for those who can afford it, the cost is diluted by the number of times a piece is worn throughout the years.

Here, how a piece feels on the inside is just as important as how it looks on the outside. It is a luxury that turns inward to please oneself rather than outward to please the other. This indulgence of the senses suggests an intimacy within a piece. When you put it on, you are the only one who knows how unique it is.

And underneath the layers of fine textiles and textures lie subtle codes of class. There is something to it that only those ‘in the know’ know—a nonchalance of confidence when knowing and owning them. It enters you into a sort of club. And in part, there lies the charm of these pieces.

This concept of luxury is nothing new. The term ‘conspicuous consumption’ was defined by Thorsten Weblen in his book The Theory of the Leisure Class in 1899. The author described it as the ostentatious display of wealth to gain status within society. He determined that those new to wealth were more likely to adopt such a manner than those who were old to it. The only difference now is how one social group adopts ever subtler codes to separate itself from another and decoding them is trickier to master.

Make no mistake, there is still plenty of conspicuous fashion. But amongst waxing and waning trends, inconspicuous fashion is growing. Though rooted in the one percent, the style trickles down and influences others to invest in fashion (or anti-fashion) that lasts. Even designers notorious for their loud designs on the runway create a range of quiet ones off the runway to broaden their reach of customers.

Some see it as a trend on its own. It may as well be. In fashion, whenever the pendulum swings towards maximalism, it swings back to minimalism, and vice versa. Nonetheless, there is a shift toward long-term investments and the cliché “quality over quantity.” More than luxury per se, coded dressing reflects the want and need for clothes that will last for more than one season in a wardrobe.

And maybe this is where we are headed: purchasing clothes for beauty and not wearing the label on your sleeve. In times of social media branding, how elegant is that?