Between Seasons, Between Cities
Living out of a suitcase, summer staples, new Chanel, and the art of restraint
First, a brief apology for the recent inconsistency. The past three months have been a blur of transitions: career shifts, travel, wedding planning, and everything that sits between them. I’ve been living, quite literally, out of a suitcase. And while that has its own romance, it makes engaging with a wardrobe—properly, intentionally—considerably harder.
I’m aiming to return to a more regular rhythm of three posts a week, and I’d quite like you to hold me to that.
A dear subscriber recently wrote in from a life of constant travel, and it felt timely. If you’re also in motion—between cities, seasons, or versions of yourself—this is less a wardrobe manifesto and more a field note: how I’ve been dressing from a suitcase, what has genuinely earned its place, and what I’ve added to bridge the gaps.
At the moment, the staples are exactly that: unsurprising, slightly boring, entirely dependable.
The COS T-shirts (both short and long sleeve), which I have spoken about so often they now feel like infrastructure rather than clothing. Alongside them, the With Nothing Underneath button-up—the best there is, no notes, no competition. Flore Flore tanks, which are expensive in the way that feels mildly offensive at checkout and entirely justified thereafter.
Then there is the Kira Pant from Clyque The Label, a purchase from last summer that has quietly become a uniform piece. Worn at least fifty times, possibly more, and still not exhausted.
And finally, silk trousers: a pair from Reformation bought nearly three years ago that have aged improbably well. In high summer, my default evening uniform is simple—these silk trousers with a silk halter. Nothing elaborate, just ease dressed up slightly.
These are the bones of the wardrobe. The quiet heroes. The pieces that do not ask for attention but earn it anyway. Good bones, as the saying goes.
But even good bones occasionally need embellishment.
Helmut Lang Slip Top / Banana Republic 100% Linen Trousers / Le Sundial Tassel Belt / Staud Heels / Tuckernuck Clutch
My default summer formula tends to be a tank and breathable trousers, but I’ve recently found myself keeping a poncho close at hand. Not for drama, but for survival when air conditioning gets increasingly aggressive. It is practical, but it also interrupts the silhouette in an interesting way; something about it makes the whole look feel more intentional.
I also tend to rely on accessories to do the heavy lifting in otherwise very simple outfits. A playful bag can shift everything—whether it’s one of the tassel or beaded styles from Tuckernuck, or something more collectible like an Olympia Le Tan piece, which I’ve long thought of as an investment in personality as much as design. There’s something satisfying about how a single object can change the tone of an entire look without requiring any real effort elsewhere
COS Tank Top / Citizens of Humanity Trousers / Toteme Sunglasses / Khaite Bag / Victoria Beckham Perfume (my summer scent!)
And then, this month’s addition: a pair of Chanel slingbacks. On paper, it is entirely wrong for summer—rich, dark plum suede in a season of linen and lightness—but that is precisely why they work. I’ve been wearing them with head-to-toe white, and the contrast has been unexpectedly effective. People notice, though not in an obvious way. It reads less as a statement and more as a quiet contradiction.
There’s something I’m increasingly drawn to in that idea: pieces that don’t match the season, but sharpen it.
There’s something interesting in that contradiction. When you’re travelling, or in flux, you lose the ability to over-style. You stop building outfits from abundance and start building them from restraint. And in that restraint, the most useful pieces are rarely the obvious ones. They’re the ones that complicate things slightly.