I’m a 4th generation clothier.
I’ve worked in the clothing industry for 10+ years.
blah blah blah
▸PREVIOUSLY
fig. 01 · Interfacing Wedding Dress, Project Runway Scholarship, 2011. Made entirely from interfacing. The second dress I ever made.
fig. 02 · Silk Taffeta + Car Parts, Cadillac Couture Collab, 2012. Bodice from car seat leather, Cadillac emblem at the neck, hubcap fascinator, car keys dangling down the back.
fig. 03 · Cotton Inc Denim competition, 2014. Started as solid black denim, bleached out by hand. The neutralizing chemical arrived at my parents’ door via hazmat crew. They were very concerned. They were not surprised.
Why is it that I still don’t know how to dress myself?
Part of that is industry. When clothing industrialized, how to make and what to wear separated, with almost nobody left in the middle. I grew up on the making side. My mom has been sewing for 50+ years but never once made anything for herself.
On top of that, I am Vietnamese-American.
Neither costume nor assimilation feels true.
On top of that, my body changes. Clothes don’t.
On top of that, me.
My specific coloring.
My specific proportions.
My specific days.
HELP
I got two responses:
A. “Wear whatever you feel like! Anyone can wear anything! Just experiment and see what works for you! Everyone is different!”
True but unhelpful.
B. “Jeans and the perfect tee! You can’t go wrong in ____!” I hate jeans. They leave tire tracks. What do I do now?
Equally unhelpful, for the opposite reason.
One gives infinite options and no direction.
The other gives direction but no options.
“One shouldn’t spend all one’s time dressing. All one needs are two or three suits, as long as they and everything to go with them are perfect.”
“Buy a good suit and live in it, rather than a lot of cheap clothes.”
Elsa Schiaparelli, 1936
“All a woman needs to be chic is a raincoat, two suits, a pair of trousers and a cashmere sweater.”
Hubert de Givenchy, 1952
“Don’t buy much but make sure that what you buy is good.”
Christian Dior, 1954
“My favorite thing is a black sweater and skirt, which you can wear all the time by changing the accessories.”
attributed to Yves Saint Laurent
Isn’t that interesting?
NOBODY EVER SAID BUY MORE SHIT
▸Then Why Did They Make More Shit?
…and kept making cheap shit till they couldn’t make shit any cheaper?
…and find companies that could make even cheaper shit?
…and put their name on shit they didn’t make?
…and pay people to tell other people to buy more shit?
…even people who’ve never sewn a button in their life?
No matter what you call it, categorize it, slice it or dice it…
Don’t we just end up with huge heaping piles of shit?!
How did we land so far away from two suits and some shoes?
The dirty secret is that “buy less” advice has always been accompanied by a “buy more” business model.
The Dead Designers knew that volume is the enemy of style** but the cruel irony of it all is that selling less clothing won’t make more money.
So the people who knew clothing the best often preached restraint while building empires on the exact opposite impulse.
No wonder we’re so confused.
** often but not always
Let’s not forget these people hated each other…
▸DRAMA
Story goes Elsa rolls up and starts stealing turf Chanel spent decades cultivating. Salvador Dalí. Joan Crawford. Wallis Simpson. The cover of Time Magazine.
Coco is livid. At a costume ball before the war, she allegedly steers Elsa (dressed as a surrealist tree) into candles. Elsa goes up in flames. Guests put her out with soda water.
Post-war, Schiaparelli shuts down. Dior rolls in. Coco comes out of retirement just to spite him.
“A milliner.” “A dreary little bourgeoise.”
Elsa Schiaparelli on Coco Chanel
“That Italian artist who makes clothes.”
Coco Chanel on Elsa Schiaparelli
“Look how ridiculous these women are, wearing clothes by a man who doesn’t know women, never had one, and dreams of being one.”
attributed to Coco Chanel on Christian Dior
“Saint Laurent has excellent taste. The more he copies me, the better taste he displays.”
Coco Chanel on YSL
…Okay, maybe it was just Coco being Coco.
*…with the exception of YSL and Givenchy who were besties <3
…which makes it all the more remarkable that they actually agreed on something:
Not too many clothes.
Less is More.
Wear suits.
“Buy a good suit and live in it, rather than a lot of cheap clothes. Let it be a good, tailored suit, carefully made, with beautiful material, and above all, don’t be afraid to be seen in it too often. Good clothes, simply made, never “date”, no matter what anyone tells you.”
“Wear your suit to business; wear it to dinners; to the theater; wear it twenty-four hours a day, every day in the year, if you must, and if it is a good suit, you will always look smart, attractive. On the other hand, if you own a fairly large variety of cheap clothes and change them a dozen times a day you will never appear chic, cheapness is always apparent.”
Dior was my first love but as I got older, I noticed some issues…
fig. 04 · I fear if she were to breathe, she would pop a button.
To wear Dior, you have to wear a corset or a girdle.
Sometimes both.
The uber-cinched waist has little to no room for breathing on top of the corset.
Heavily interfaced, stiff af, to preserve that shape.
The skirt is HEAVY and there’s scratchy petticoat on petticoat underneath that in order to keep all of that fabric up and out.
Forget life, how would you even wear this for a day?
How would you sit?
What if you needed to bathroom?
WHAT IF YOU NEED TO SCRATCH YOUR BACK?
“Luxury must be comfortable, otherwise, it is not luxury.”
Coco Chanel
But Chanel can’t be that much more comfortable, can it?
OH YES IT CAN
fig. 05 · The tweed is thin for a tweed but holds its shape. The lining is silk georgette. It is tissue thin, cool against the skin. On the body it feels like pajamas and looks infinitely more put together. I thought Chanel was all hype. It is not. I could wear this every day of my life.
fig. 06 · Meanwhile at Dior. Exquisite construction but this felt like wearing cardboard. NOW I GET WHY COCO WAS SO MAD!
Okay, I get it Coco.
I’m sorry I ever doubted you.
But I still want my poofy skirt
Suit No. 1
fig. 07 · Why not have both? Freedom from interfacing and a poofy skirt. If Chanel and Dior had a baby. (They would be horrified!) The shape of Dior combined with the freedom of Chanel. No compromises. In wool, the most traditional fabric for the most traditional occasions.
Except…
My waist ranges from 26″ to 34″,
which is every size from a S to an XL.
Even if something fits now, it won’t fit for very long.
And that sucks. Every shift feels like a failure, another thing that no longer fits, another person to explain to that my body shapeshifts.
No, I haven’t been stuffing my face with potato chips.
I have PCOS. Adjustability is non-negotiable.
The Problem
Every Dead Designer suit depended on the waist. Skirts and trousers hang from it. Jackets closed around it.
But waists change every hour.
So PCOS or not, waists are an unreliable anchor.
But where else can clothing hang from?
Shoulders
Shoulders are more reliable than waists because skeletons don’t change.*
In order for clothes to last, they must accommodate change over time because bodies change over time.
Which means flexing where bodies change most (waists)
and anchoring to where bodies change least (shoulder skeleton)
Clothes that last will flex at the waist and hang from the shoulders.
*Shoulders are also not nearly as gendered as waists or hips. An ideal starting point for nonbinary design.
fig. 08 · Often adjustability means add: wraps, extra wide lapels, elastic. What if we subtracted instead?
I have been denied voluminous, magnificent, full pleated skirts because they are built on a fixed waist.
If I lived in 1936 Paris, I could wear this suit anywhere.
But I don’t live in 1936 Paris.
I’m now in Las Vegas, where the only person in a suit is getting married, getting buried, trying to get you to buy shit, or making sure you don’t steal shit.
My video editor friend just turned to me and said, “Never trust an editor in a suit.”
In the US, formality is environmental.
Where are you?
Clothes answer with fabric.
Same pattern, different fabric = different registers of formal
If wool already covers the extreme end of formal, the casual end belongs to the most democratic fabric ever made.
Denim.
Suit No. 2
fig. 09 · Same Pattern. Different Fabric. Spectrum covered.
But is it still a suit?
Even in the tiny bubble of dead Parisian midcentury designers, a suit was never the same thing:
fig. 10 · Chanel’s suit: collarless cardigan jacket. soft tweed. no padding. designed to move. built by rejecting the male tailoring block
fig. 11 · Dior’s New Look suit: nipped waist, uber structured, built on corsetry logic, not menswear
fig. 12 · YSL Le Smoking: literally the male tuxedo block put on a woman on purpose
So what exactly is a suit?
I consulted Merriam-Webster.
Suit (noun)
: a set of garments: such as
a : an ensemble of two or more usually matching outer garments (such as a jacket, vest, and trousers) — “businessmen wearing three-piece suits”
b : a costume to be worn for a special purpose or under particular conditions — “gym suits”
Merriam-Webster
A suit isn’t a lapel and trousers.
It’s Same Fabric.
Same Color.
Top and Bottom.
Worn as a matched set.
…which is infinitely more useful to someone who doesn’t want to look like a used car salesman 24/7.
If you think about it, a suit could be anything.
fig. 13 · The Hoodie and Sweatpants. Yes, this counts!
fig. 14 · The Dressing Gown over Matching Pajamas. Yep, this counts too.
While I could wear these two suits most anywhere, designing an all American/European wardrobe for myself didn’t feel quite right.
What do I wear to Tet?
I know the ancestors were pragmatic.
They would probably say “It’s OK con, just do whatever works.”
But I have a sneaky suspicion they’d actually be more disappointed if I didn’t try at all. Even a whack, but respectful, Ao Dai gives the ancestors something to judge and I think they’d rather have that than be left behind.
fig. 15 · The first time I saw Vietnam: the sun and the moon in the sky at the same time, low clouds rolling underneath. Dragonland.
I found three girls and a smoothie.
Three girls in a cute cafe taking turns snapping selfies with the same avocado smoothie. Each girl in an Ao Dai. None of them in the same Ao Dai.
fig. 16 · One loose historical inspired Ao Dai, one with chiffon flutter sleeves, and one so tight my muffin tops started screaming.
They took a group photo.
Three completely different Ao Dai in the same frame.
Nobody rioted.
The Ao Dai was never the same thing.
Then I left the cafe and saw a dude crossing the street.
Ca phe in one hand, baguette tucked under the other arm, wearing what looked like the love child of the Ao Dai and a polo shirt over Western trousers.
Nobody looked twice.
fig. 17 · Dude was not performing Vietnamese-ness. Dude was just being dude on a Tuesday.
THAT’S IT
Strip away the ceremony, the tradition, the colonial residue, and my mom’s voice telling me I should wear the Ao Dai.
What’s left?
A long shirt
Áo = shirt
Dài = long
Áo dài means long shirt.
Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
fig. 18 · The similarities between the Ao Dai and the Dress Shirt. I have no idea what fabric or how to make this PCOS friendly but one problem at a time.
fig. 19 · The similarities between Ao ba ba and the Chanel suit. Ao Ba Ba just never got the couture treatment.
Suit No. 3 & 4
fig. 20 · Attempt #1: Somewhere in Hue, the ancestors are either shedding tears of joy or reaching for a broom to hit me with. Possibly both.
OH MY GOSH. THAT’S ME!
I used to think fusion meant mashing together different things.
That didn’t work.
So I started looking for the shared root, the underlying logic of why two thing should belong together.
I may have figured it out.
▸What Does It Mean to be Vietnamese?
On my last day in Vietnam, I wrote to my 69 year old cousin who I’ve only met once:
I wrote in English, because I was afraid of using the wrong words in Vietnamese.
I told him I grew up thinking I was adopted because no one else in my family was like me. Then I met him and as he told me stories of travel and adventure, I kept thinking THAT’S WHAT I WOULD DO TOO! THAT’S ME!
For the first time, I didn’t feel so alone in my own family.
He wrote back:
Chúc mừng năm mới, cô em Thanh Hà! Anh em ta gặp nhau không nhiều, nhưng có sự đồng cảm và ẩn khuất trong em vẫn là giòng máu và tâm hồn người Việt. Anh vẫn hay nhắc về em với gia đình anh và mọi người trong gia tộc. Chúc em, cô em họ mới vừa quen biết, luôn tìm được niềm vui trong cuộc sống, an lành và khỏe mạnh. Thân ái.
I asked AI to read it out loud. Elder blessings but also…
“Buried deep inside you, still, is the blood and soul of the Vietnamese people. I still speak of you. To my family. To everyone in the clan.”
I sobbed uncontrollably and I didn’t know why.
Vietnamese-ness is not a hat. It’s not even an Ao Dai.
I used to think the soul of Vietnam would end with me. That I was the weak link in a three thousand year old chain. I can’t even read Vietnamese.
I was waiting in the doctor’s office staring at a food pyramid.
Mmmmm…food
I like food.
That’s a lot of carbs.
OH. CLOTHING PYRAMID.
Some people think wearing clothes kills them because it’s what we can see: snags, stains, pulled threads and that the only way to preserve clothing is to not wear them at all.
But what actually kills clothes isn’t wearing them out,
it’s washing them out.
Friction. Heat. Detergent. Wringing. Tumbling. Cycle after cycle.
And what is the #1 reason why we wash clothes?
Secretions Magnifique!
*Sweat. Skin. Saliva. Semen. Discharge. Blood.
Everything that a body does, fabric closest to it collects until it’s washed. Then it’s washed over and over again until the fabric is beaten to death.
A well-made garment worn regularly but washed carefully can outlive you. The same garment washed after every wear will be threadbare in a year.
Which means an entire wardrobe runs on one variable: PROXIMITY TO SKIN
Closer to skin →
collects more of you →
washed more often →
dies faster →
you need more of them to wash each one less.
Farther from skin →
collects almost nothing →
washed rarely →
lasts decades →
you only need one.
fig. 23 · The Clothing PyramidNotice how layers can only be designed to go under or over, not both. Cut close and thin enough to disappear underneath or cut with room to close over. You can not stuff a sweater meant to go over under. I mean I guess you can but you’ll be uncomfy as hell.The layers closer to your skin also change what wearing the outfit feels like. Lace against skin is a different experience than crisp poplin is a different experience than cashmere.SO MANY REVELATIONS!
Underwear at the bottom. Most pieces, most washed, most sacrificial, natural fibers because they live on your skin. Coats and capes at the tippity-top. Fewest pieces, barely washed, farthest from the body. Fiber rules relax because it’s not touching you anyway.
This one axis may determine exactly how many you need, how long they live, what they’re made of, and how much mood they carry.
The functional minimal is 3: one to wear, one in the wash and one on standby. But closest to skin = most washed = dies the fastest = make the most.
Lace doesn’t make sense here but what does?
Natural fibers for breathability.
Strong fibers for durability.
Adjustable at the waist.
Whatever you already find insanely comfortable.
The most comfortable undergarments I have ever put on my skin were borrowed boxers from past lovers. It was the only time I put underwear on that didn’t become assfloss.
Is that why dudes are so comfortable? Because they aren’t walking around with assfloss between their cheeks?
fig. 25 · If I can solve the assfloss problem, I can translate boy boxers into midcentury lingerie shorts. I’m thinking 8. One for every day of the week + one for laundry day. 8 divides nicely for travel.
Tap Pants8
No. of Pieces8
BRAS
To bra or not to bra. The eternal question.
I’ve always thought bras were cruel and unusual torture.
I have permanent underboob marks from underwire.
I set my bras on fire when I turned 21.
But Motion Control
I could get away with camisoles or nothing at all but at 34D, I need some help or I’ll never be able to fulfill my princess dreams of running down stairs in a big poofy dress. *sigh*
I imagined what Coco would say as she side-eyed me, lighting a cigarette: “You have more important things to do than bounce.”
…Fine.
fig. 26 · BUT ONLY IF I CAN ACTUALLY MAKE A BRA WORTH ITS SALT.
I’m sure in the 110 year history of the modern bra, someone had to have figured out how to make the bra comfy right?
…right?
Tap Pants8
Bras?4
No. of Pieces16
BLOUSES
“With two black suits and three white shirts — one for the morning, one for the afternoon and one for the evening — every woman could conquer the world, the heart of the man she loves and remain of great elegance.”
Coco Chanel
But designing three separate shirts seems unnecessary.
fig. 27 · One pattern that fits under the suits means all our shirts fit under the suits. Different fabrics give us range. Details tweaked for each fabric. Same Pattern, Different Fabrics. Different Moods. 80/20.I would add one cashmere layer for night, cold and cozy.I would also multiply up afternoon shirts for off-duty Lu.
AfternoonLinen. An exhale as fabric. Wrinkles with Dignity.
EveningSilk. Liquid gold.
What makes evening evening is shiny or sheer, both pick up low evening lights. I picked shiny because that means I don’t have to shave :)
Tap Pants8
Bras?4
Blouses: Morning, Evening, Night3
Blouses: Noon4
Suit No. 1Pinafore (1) + Jacket (1) in Wool
Suit No. 2Pinafore (1) + Jacket (1) in Denim
Suit No. 3Ao Ba Ba Top (1) + Bottom (1) in (?)
Suit No. 4Ao Dai Top (1) + Bottom (1) in (?)
No. of Pieces27
*Blouse Length TBD because they depend on how we solve the pinafore adjustability problem. Slips/Camis TBD because they depend on the blouse. One problem at a time.
My best friend Smee asked what my 5-year-old and 15-year-old selves would think of me now.
At 15, my mom told me if I went outside, I’d be raped and killed.
I believed her. I was terrified of outside.
Since then: I’ve traveled the world, started a handful of businesses, and adopted a standard poodle. One year I got married, divorced, fell in love, got heartbroken, moved to Buenos Aires to train as a professional tango dancer so I could beat my ex in a competition, and moved back to the US before COVID closed down all the borders.
15-year-old me wouldn’t believe it.
5-year-old me wouldn’t be impressed.
BUT WHERE’S THE POOFY PRINCESS DRESS?
I went back and forth on the poofy dress of my 5-year-old dreams.
fig. 28 · Christian Dior Junon
fig. 29 · Alexander McQueen, Peacock Dress
fig. 30 · Charles James, Petal
But let’s be real.
I would wear a Victorian bustle gown to the grocery store (Imagine Lu in a Victorian mourning gown fully veiled morning half-spoiled produce), and even I can’t find places (plural) to wear a giant poofy princess dress. I don’t want to spend forever making something just to zip it into a garment bag coffin after wear #1.
Poofy princess drama can be wearable though.
Enter Overlayers
fig. 31 · Coats. Capes. Cloaks. Jackets.Tippity-top of the clothing pyramid.
Overlayers live farthest from skin, so they almost never get washed, which means they can afford to be weatherproof, fragile, precious, concept, DRAMA, or all of the above.
Least quantity. Most visibility. Fewest rules.
fig. 32 · Get a hit of serotonin from oodles of silk? Go for it.
fig. 33 · Prefer a leather jacket built like articulated armor? Go wild.
fig. 34 · Or maybe a coat made from a sleeping bag because you want to be held. Who am I to judge?
Whatever floats your boat.
Back to Lu
6 months from now I realize the sleeping bag coat I just sketched (above) is the only thing I need in life and scrap everything else.
And it would totally be fine because overlayers sit on top. They can be swapped, changed or completely re-thought without affecting the rest of the wardrobe.
So for now, let’s throw something up knowing it will likely change.
What I think I need:
Adjustability, always.
Princess Drama
Bad Weather Clothes: Snow, Heat, Rain
fig. 35 · SNOW: Fit-and-flare wool princess coat with a full Watteau back for adjustability. Has anyone else noticed princess coats aren’t very adjustable? DRAMA, in one big beautiful color. Designed for winter-wonderland snow, not Antarctica. I hope I’m never trapped in Antarctica.
fig. 36 · RAIN: I once stared at a painting of a posh 18th-century woman in a Brunswick and thought, “That’s basically a hoodie. It’d make an incredible raincoat.” So keep the essence, polish the ruffles into pleats (not drawn because lazy), layer a New Look silhouette over it, and ground it in a neutral (cream/khaki, Burberry energy) so it doesn’t tip into costume. Lined in one big beautiful color.
fig. 37 · HEAT/EVENING: A silk trench ventilated everywhere for airflow. High side slits do triple duty: movement, ventilation, and a nod to Vietnamese design. Lined in big beautiful color to frame whatever’s underneath. Vietnamese-American princess energy, whatever that means.
DONE!
Three coats, one big beautiful color tying them together.
The 5-year-old is jumping for joy.
The 15-year-old is still speechless.
Everybody wins.
