Hi besties. Yes, it’s true. I am officially back in my writer era, and no one is safe.
First things first, I would like to issue a formal complaint against the Substack login system, which locked me out of my account for what felt like an entire fiscal quarter. I tried everything: forgot password, reset password, cursed the app, stared dramatically into the void. Nothing worked. And as a woman of taste, I simply refused to write longform cultural critiques on my tiny little phone screen like some 2012 Tumblr martyr. The vibes were all wrong.
Enter: Tyler from Substack Support. The man. The myth. The literal savior of this newsletter. Tyler, if you’re reading this: I love you. I owe you my life. I would name my firstborn after you. You single handedly rescued me from digital purgatory and restored balance to the content universe. This post is dedicated to you, king.
But after this unexpected sabbatical (which was neither chic nor mysterious, just annoying), I am thrilled to report that I’ve regained access, my thumbs have been freed, and your inbox will once again be blessed by my unsolicited opinions about fashion and society. The daughter of discourse has logged back on.
Quick life update: I’m currently living somewhere in Germany (don’t ask me where exactly, I just know the bread slaps and everything closes at 8pm). I’m staying with my cousin until I move to London in September, where I plan to fulfill my true destiny as a stylish menace with a Notes app full of theories and a wardrobe full of impractical jackets.
So yes, I'm in my Carrie Bradshaw living in Aidan’s weird cabin in Suffern while she has an identity crisis era. Writing, observing, spiraling. It’s giving seasonal reboot.
Anyway, let’s talk about the fashion propaganda I’m not falling for and maybe a few hot takes that may or may not ruin brunch for you.
Disclaimer:
Everything I share here is my personal opinion, based on my own experiences and the way I see the world. I’m not trying to tell anyone what to do or what to wear — I’m more interested in asking questions and encouraging people to think more deeply about fashion, culture, and how we live. You don’t have to agree with me, but if something I say makes you pause or reflect, then I’ve done what I set out to do. All I ask is that we keep the conversation respectful
I’m not falling for…
#1 Jorts (Denim or Trousers)
Lately, jorts, whether in their classic denim short form or the wider culotte style have been everywhere. I get why. They’re a practical summer option, especially for those who want more coverage but still want to stay cool. As someone who lives with body dysmorphia, I totally understand the desire for longer hemlines and covering certain parts of your body to feel more comfortable. Dressing in a way that protects your sense of self is important, and I’m fully supportive of that.
That said, there’s something about jorts that just doesn’t sit right with me. I recognize the styling attempts that lean into juxtaposition: pairing the inherently masculine, almost “boyish” vibe of jorts with delicate, feminine tops or ballet flats, a bit like how the Adidas tracksuit trend plays with opposites to create visual interest. But as someone deeply invested in proportion and silhouette, jorts hit a very awkward sweet spot, and not in a good way.
The problem with jorts is where they cut off on the leg. That length, usually mid-thigh to just above the knee, is an awkward stopping point. It doesn’t visually elongate the leg like shorts that hit higher up, nor does it have the deliberate, intentional look of a longer pant or capri. Even if you try to fix this by adding heels or sandals, the overall silhouette still feels truncated and unbalanced. There’s a kind of laziness in the shape that can’t be polished away, no matter who’s wearing them; supermodel or not.
This is where capris come in as a superior alternative. Capris, which generally hit mid calf, create a much more deliberate and elegant line on the leg. That longer length allows for a better sense of proportion, creating a vertical flow that the eye naturally prefers. Whether they’re tight fitting or flared at the bottom, capris look more intentional, like a designed piece rather than something halfway between shorts and pants. The way capris sit also complements footwear better, allowing heels, sneakers, or flats to visually extend the leg rather than chop it off.
Beyond the shape, there’s a subtle cultural element too. Jorts carry baggage: they’re often seen as utilitarian or “boyish,” sometimes even lazy or outdated. Styling jorts requires a conscious effort to soften or elevate that perception. Capris, on the other hand, have a longer history in fashion as a sophisticated, classic summer staple; think Audrey Hepburn or Jackie Kennedy, which lends them an inherent chicness that jorts just don’t have.
In summary, while I completely respect the need for comfort and coverage, jorts miss the mark for me because of their awkward silhouette and cultural associations. Capris offer a more balanced, intentional, and timeless option that feels more polished and flattering. So yes, jorts might be popular, but for those reasons, they’re not a fashion propaganda I’m falling for.
I’m not falling for…
#2 Tabis
I have to be honest, I absolutely despise tabis. With every fiber of my being. I don’t understand the hype or the appeal. Why would anyone want to walk around looking like a horse? To me, tabis fall into the same aesthetic territory as UGG boots, another style I deeply dislike. I find it baffling that people embrace footwear that evokes animalistic imagery in such a literal, almost cartoonish way. It reminds me of Grover from Percy Jackson.
Now, I can already hear people assuming I hate tabis because I’m some kind of minimalist’ a “The Row” type who only wears neutral basics and can’t get down with anything bold or quirky. But that’s not the case at all. I appreciate fashion that’s daring, experimental, and expressive. I’m not opposed to pushing boundaries or trying new silhouettes. I just genuinely think tabis are so ugly.
That said, I want to be clear: I have genuine respect for tabis in their historical and cultural context. Traditional tabi socks and ‘jika-tabi’ boots are rooted in centuries old Japanese culture, designed with practical function in mind. The split toe design was ingenious, improving balance and allowing natural foot movement, especially for workers navigating varied terrains. This blend of form and function is elegant in its simplicity and purpose.
But the fashion world’s recent obsession with “tabis” strips away that context, repackaging them as a trendy, avant garde statement piece. What we’re seeing now isn’t a celebration of cultural heritage or utility, it’s a performative attempt to be different, to provoke, and to stand out in a saturated market.
Frankly, tabis should have stayed where they belong: as a cultural shoe rooted in a specific time and place. They should have remained a functional piece of history, not a passing fashion fad. Because, honestly? When you wear them today as a trend, you just look stupid.
Aesthetically, tabis strike me as awkward and unappealing. They push too hard to be edgy, veering into fashion cringe territory. The exaggerated, almost surreal silhouette reads less as innovative design and more as an uncomfortable parody of footwear, a clumsy attempt to shock rather than to elevate. And honestly, there are so many better ways to stand out and be different without buying something that looks ugly. Try microbangs. bleach your brows, get tooth gems. Color your hair wild shade! Do some funky makeup! Be bold; just don’t do it with tabis.
I fully understand that fashion thrives on evolution, boundary pushing, and occasionally making us uncomfortable. This is how designers carve out their place in the industry and how trends develop momentum. But understanding the system doesn’t obligate me to embrace every outcome of it. When it comes to tabis, I simply can’t take the trend, or its wearers seriously. Sorry,
not sorry.
I’m not falling for…
#3 Labubus & “Jane Birkinifying” Your Things
I know you could see this coming from a MILLEEEEE away… but it has to be talked about.
I would never dare to hang charms, pins, or any kind of trinket off my designer handbag. To me, this isn’t merely a matter of personal preference, it’s a question of respect for craftsmanship, design, and quality. A handbag, especially one made by skilled artisans in Italy or France, is a carefully constructed work of art. The intricate stitching, the selection of premium leather, the balance of form and function all of this demands appreciation, not to be cluttered with cheap souvenirs or novelty items.
My personality and style should be evident through my choices and presence, not through a dangling mass of unrelated accessories attempting to ‘prove’ who I am to a world obsessed with performative identity. If you want to personalize something with charms or pins, fine, place them on your keys, an object designed to be handled, swapped, and marked up. But affixing them to a designer handbag, investment piece is to me a form of visual disrespect, cheapening the entire look.
This conversation about charms and embellishments also reminds me of something I often hear from one of my favorite interior design voices, Phoebe Taylor. She emphasizes the importance of honoring materials for what they truly are rather than trying to make them look like something they’re not. If you want a laminate table, she advises buying it for what it is,without resorting to peel and stick marble or wood veneers that mimic a higher-end finish. There is a distinct elegance and refinement in embracing the authenticity of a material, rather than masking it with cheap imitations that ultimately cheapen the entire aesthetic.
The same principle applies to fashion accessories. A genuinely beautiful, well-crafted handbag deserves to be appreciated as it is, without tacky pins, charms, or plastic toys dangling off it in an attempt to “personalize” it. Adding those decorations is like slapping peel and stick marble onto laminate; it’s a misguided effort to fake something it isn’t, and it only detracts from the original craftsmanship and design.
Recently, I had a thoughtful conversation with a dear friend on Substack (
) whose writing I deeply admire. She expressed that she loves charms because they are a form of personal expression, and argued that society has been somewhat brainwashed by the “clean girl” minimalist aesthetic, which conditions us to see anything ‘messy’ or ‘busy’ as cheapening the look. She also noted the Labubu craze, those plastic figurines turned fashion accessory, is an unhinged phenomenon, but charms remain an accessible way for many people to engage with trends, benefiting brands financially. I understand and respect her viewpoint, and agree to some extent. However, this isn’t about trends or minimalism for me, it’s a deeply held personal conviction. I am not a “clean girl minimalist” by any means, but I have always felt that dangling memorabilia from clothes or bags cheapens the items and, frankly, looks tacky.Even Jane Birkin herself; the woman who inspired one of the most iconic handbags in fashion history did this, and yet even her styling never convinced me that hanging a bunch of random objects off your purse elevates it. As a child, seeing photos of her basket bag decorated with trinkets made me think, “Why does that look like it came from a flea market bin?” Sentimental objects have their place, for me, they belong in spaces where they are honored and preserved, not dangling precariously from designer bags or your top for public consumption.
Today, this trend has exploded. Fast fashion brands aggressively push pins, charms, plush toys, and figures like Labubu as if they were high art, cultivating an insatiable consumer frenzy. The lines, the hype, the spectacle—it baffles me. Why are we so obsessed with cheap plastic paraphernalia? Why line up for grotesque little gremlins? This isn’t style or self expression. It’s desperate consumption and identity performance, an attempt to manufacture uniqueness rather than live it authentically.
I respect people’s desire to stand out and be different, innovation and evolution in fashion are crucial. But this is beyond standing out; it is a caricature of individuality, a superficial display rather than a genuine statement. If you feel the need to hang ten miniature dolls on your tote bag to convey your identity, perhaps you haven’t quite figured out who you are yet.
True style is rooted in quiet confidence, intentional choices, and respect for the objects that accompany us. It is not about cluttering yourself or your belongings with extraneous decorations. Style lives in the details; the scent you wear, the care you take with your nails, the way you carry yourself, the words you speak. It is found in the authenticity of living your truth, not in attaching plastic trinkets or mass produced toys to your accessories to “prove” your worth.
So, no matter how much the world tries to tell me otherwise, true style does not need to be pinned on.
I’m not falling for…
#4 Ibiza Style- The Sequin Top Craze
Ibiza style has been buzzing again, especially with the return of sequin tops as a popular choice. I want to start by saying this clearly: sequin tops simply aren’t for me. This isn’t me throwing shade or dismissing them like I might with other trends, for example, tabis, which I genuinely dislike.
With sequins, I can absolutely recognize their beauty and appeal. The way they catch the light, the mermaid-core, shimmering vibe they give off, it’s fun, playful, and undeniably festive. I’ve seen so many people style sequins in ways that feel fresh, confident, and expressive, and I truly respect that.
But here’s the thing: I know my wardrobe, my lifestyle, and most importantly, what pieces I’ll actually reach for. Sequin tops, as much as I appreciate their aesthetic, just don’t fit into my personal rotation. They’re inherently “going out” or “special occasion” pieces, and I rarely find myself needing something so niche. I’m someone who values versatility and longevity in my clothes, and sequins just don’t align with that mindset for me.
That’s not to say they look cheap or out of style. Far from it. In fact, compared to some other party tops out there, like the ubiquitous Shein buckle belt tops or Motel Rocks styles, sequins often feel more thoughtfully designed and visually striking. Those fast fashion going out tops have become so common and easily recognizable that they can feel a little tired to me. I’ve been eyeing smaller, more curated brands like Akino, whose tops feel elevated in fabric and cut, with a sophistication that’s missing in many mass market options. Their new EIZU tops dropping on August 8th, in particular, look like pieces I could wear both on a night out and in more casual settings, which appeals to me more than anything purely flashy or seasonal.
With sequin tops, I also think about practicality. I often see them resold on platforms like Vinted for over 100 euros, and that price point makes me question their real world utility. Would I wear them enough to justify the investment? Probably not. And for me, spending on pieces that won’t get much use just doesn’t make sense.
That said, I could imagine incorporating sequins in smaller doses, maybe a sequin bag or accessory as a subtle nod to the sparkle without going full disco ball. But even that idea is still on the fence for me.
So to be clear: I’m not hating on sequin tops, and I’m not dismissing the trend or those who love it. I see and respect the charm and energy they bring. But personally, they just aren’t for me, and I’m confident in that choice. Fashion is, after all, about knowing what works for you and for me, sequins remain a beautiful but impractical fantasy.
(EIZU style dropping August 8 2025)
some fashion hot takes….
#1 The Perfect White Tshirt/Tank top etc etc.
If you’ve ever scrolled through TikTok, read a Substack essay, or watched a styling video, you’ve probably heard the same advice over and over: find the perfect basics. And look, they’re right. Good basics, pieces tailored to fit you well are foundational to any wardrobe and make getting dressed so much easier. But here’s my hot take: you don’t need every single basic out there, and the obsession with the “perfect white t-shirt” or “perfect white tank” is totally overrated.
For starters, I hate the color white. It just doesn’t work on me. There’s something about white on my skin tone and frame that feels disproportionate and off. Others can pull off white beautifully, but on me, it’s like a floating head situation. Now, maybe this is me being hyper aware or maybe it’s down to color theory, but I can’t shake that feeling. Add to that my struggle with body dysmorphia and the fact that lighter colors tend to visually expand your silhouette and wearing white becomes more than just a fashion choice; it’s uncomfortable in a very real way.
Because of this, I don’t buy into the cult of the perfect white basic. I don’t think everyone needs to own pristine white tees or tanks in black, white, and light gray. Basics are important, but that doesn’t mean they have to be limited to the “universal” colors we always hear about.
In fact, I believe navy is the most universally flattering basic color, even more so than black. Black, like white, can sometimes feel stark and high contrast, and for some people, it’s not the easiest color to pull off. Navy, on the other hand, is this perfect middle ground: rich, deep, and versatile. It transitions effortlessly through seasons and pairs beautifully with a wide range of other colors.
I actually wrote a note about this on Substack recently highlighting how navy acts as this quietly sophisticated color that’s somehow under appreciated as a basic. It’s not shouted from the rooftops the way white tees are, but in my opinion, it deserves just as much love, if not more.
So no, I’m not on the quest for the perfect white t-shirt, and honestly, I’m a little tired of hearing that it’s some universal wardrobe holy grail. Maybe it works for some and that’s great but it’s not a one-size-fits-all truth. I’m here to say basics can be whatever color makes you feel good, and if you’re like me, that might mean embracing richer, deeper hues over bright whites.
In short: navy isn’t just a color, it’s a neutral with range. It deserves a central place in any modern wardrobe and deserves to be crowned as the ultimate neutral.
#2 Dressing For Your Body Type Is GOOD.
There’s been a big movement on social media and platforms like Youtube, encouraging people to “wear whatever you want” and to embrace comfort above all else. I fully support the idea that everyone should feel free to express themselves through clothing and wear what makes them happy. At the same time, there’s been a lot of pushback against the idea of dressing for your body type, some say it’s outdated, restrictive, or rooted in harmful beauty standards.
But I’m here to put my foot down and say: dressing for your body type is a valid and useful practice. This isn’t about denying anyone the right to wear crop tops or oversized clothes if they want to. Nor is it about prescribing rigid rules that say “this shape must wear that.” It’s about understanding what makes you feel comfortable and confident in your own skin, especially if you, like me, struggle with body image or mental health issues related to your appearance.
For me, dressing according to my body type has been a way to reclaim some sense of control and ease in a world where simply existing can be exhausting. When your body feels uncomfortable or unfamiliar, or you’re hyper-aware of certain features, like how I feel about my arms, my midsection, or my dark armpits; fashion choices become more than just aesthetic decisions; they affect your mood and how you navigate your day.
Take wrap tops, for example. I love that they define my waist without clinging tightly to my midsection. The sweetheart neckline flatters my upper body without drawing attention to areas I’m self conscious about. Wearing these kinds of pieces means I’m not constantly tugging at my clothes or trying to “suck in” my stomach, which instantly lifts my mood. I can go about my day feeling more like myself.
This approach doesn’t mean giving up creativity or becoming stuck in a box. Rather, it provides a foundation for self love and self understanding. Once you start to know what flatters your body and what makes you feel good, you can experiment with style in ways that work for you. For instance, layering basics; a huge trend right now, it is beautiful and clever styling, but I know layering tank tops and tees on my upper body will only add width, which I want to avoid. So instead, I can experiment with layering in other ways, like pairing pants with a wrap skirt or mixing textures with skirts to create silhouettes that feel better to me.
Importantly, learning your body’s preferences also helps you become a smarter shopper and a more thoughtful consumer. When you recognize what truly suits your shape and comfort level, you’re less likely to fall for every fleeting trend that doesn’t serve you, saving money, closet space, and emotional energy. It’s a form of style empowerment: passing on items that won’t work, no matter how hyped they are, and investing instead in pieces that genuinely enhance your confidence and fit your lifestyle.
I’m still figuring out my own body type, and it’s complicated. I carry weight mostly in my midsection, have muscular thighs, and some waist definition, but it varies depending on my cycle and possibly undiagnosed PCOS. So while I may not fit neatly into one category, what matters is how I dress for this body I live in right now not for an ideal or for trends.
Ultimately, dressing for your body type isn’t about restriction or “rules.” It’s about honoring your body’s unique shape and needs and maybe mostly catered for those of us struggling with self image, it can be a compassionate, empowering tool on the journey to self-love; one that also helps us navigate trends with intention, rather than impulse.
Because at the end of the day, I think its the lack of understanding yourself which gets folks like us so frustrated with our body image.
#3 Tiktok Aesthetics Arent The issue, You Are.
One of my biggest hot takes right now is that aesthetics themselves aren’t the problem, it’s how we, as people, relate to them that often gets messy. Too often, I see people taking fashion aesthetics way too seriously, almost rigidly, like it’s some kind of identity they need to fully embody or defend. But here’s the truth: most of us aren’t one thing. We’re complicated, layered, and our style should reflect that not a strict adherence to a single “aesthetic.”
I think society in general is becoming less critical and less adaptable. Whether it’s politics or fashion, many just accept surface level messages without digging deeper or customizing them to their unique selves. That’s why villainizing TikTok aesthetics, or any curated style trend, feels like a huge overreaction. Sure, these aesthetics are marketing tools, especially for fast fashion brands who want to sell you an entire look cheaply and quickly. But that doesn’t mean YOU have to buy in blindly or become a walking stereotype.
The real power lies in how you use aesthetics, as a springboard, not a cage. I’m all for curating your own personal style by borrowing elements from different aesthetics that genuinely speak to you. It’s not about becoming a one note character, like only wearing “mob wife” style or “cottagecore” from head to toe, but about understanding what aspects of these aesthetics resonate and how you can make them your own.
Pinterest is amazing for thisl; a treasure trove of inspiration. But most people just scroll aimlessly without any intentional analysis. Here’s a tip: use AI tools like ChatGPT to help analyze your Pinterest boards. You can ask it what themes, colors, or silhouettes keep repeating in your saved images. This can give you clarity on your own personal uniform, the consistent elements that define your style beyond fleeting trends.
I’m even thinking of doing a deep dive on my own Pinterest to share what’s really on brand for me, the things I love and that feel authentic, even if some of them might also be trending. Perhaps a; ‘What I’ll Be Wearing For Fall/Winter 2025” It could be a way to explore how personal style and trends intersect in a meaningful, grounded way. If that sounds interesting, let me know, I’d love to share it with you all.
At the end of the day, aesthetics should be your friend, a tool for self expression and discovery, not an enemy or a straightjacket. We just have to learn how to wield them wisely.
Anywho… I have run out of ideas and not sure what other hot takes I have, however I still truly hope you enjoyed reading! I want to thank all of you for sticking around and being patient <3 I promise I am fully back and better than ever! and thank you for all 4,000 of you!! that literally so so so insane!
I wanted to share something exciting… I’m starting a new journey as a content creator on YouTube and Instagram! My content will be all about fashion: think fashion vlogs, day in the life videos as a fashion student studying here in London, and just chatting about all things style in video form.
Of course, I’ll keep posting on Substack too because I know many of you love the written content I’m not going anywhere! But if you’re curious and want to see me in action, I’d be so happy if you subscribed and followed me over there. I promise to be consistent and bring you fresh content in both video and written form.
Honestly, this is something I’ve always wanted to do but have been nervous about, wondering if anyone would really care about my thoughts, my style, or my life. But I think it’s also a way for me to feel less alone and hopefully build a community a little family of people who get it and want to grow together.
So if you want to be friends, hang out, and share this journey with me, please subscribe and follow me on all my platforms. I can’t wait to connect with you all!
xoxo,
Daughter Of Discourse
MY YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/@Iambambi_777
MY INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/iambambi777/
I really enjoyed this. What made me laugh is how charms so often get dismissed as tacky, as if a handful of trinkets is somehow more performative than an expensive designer bag. Both are doing the same thing, just with different price tags. One’s called pointless, the other aspirational. It’s all fashion theatre, really. Some of us just prefer our props with a bit of fun.
I love my Tabis! Call them my moo shoes 😂
A friend of mine is a tree surgeon and when they get Japanese crews on site, their construction boots are Tabis. They’re so comfy (I have collapsed arches and a bad back, uncomfortable shoes can do one).
I’ve found Pinterest a bit crap lately. Every other post is an ad which has nothing to do with the board/search term I’m using and it’s totally skewed the usability (for me).