Welcome back to VOTED MOST TALKATIVE! While this newsletter is currently free, I appreciate everyone who has already become a paid subscriber. Your $5 a month supports the time and expertise I put into this newsletter.
Exciting news from the fashion world—maybe you’ve heard?—Phoebe Philo has finally, finally made her return. The beloved designer had been missing from the scene since her departure from Céline (avec l’accent aigu, s’il vous plaît) in 2017 and her presence was clearly missed, if the hype around her eponymous line is anything to go by. First announced all the way back in 2021, the website went live on Monday and many items, released in the drop model, quickly sold out.
Through all the false starts and missed deadlines, I’ve been watching the Phoebe frenzy with a sort of bemused detachment. I have to be honest: I don’t really get it! (There! I finally said it! I’m so brave! I feel a huge weight lifted from my chest!) That’s no slam on Philo’s talent, because I can certainly see she makes beautiful clothes. But she’s reached almost a god-like status amongst certain circles, and that’s the part that baffles me.
Here’s where I’ll confess that I generally side-eye any fashion brand or designer who reaches a certain level of hype. The last time I remember this happening in a big way was the Vetements-mania circa 2015: It was interesting and new, for sure, but it got to a point where I was like, “Okay, there’s no way this many of you actually want to dress like this.” I would see Balenciaga Triple S sneakers on people and think, you are not a sneaker person be SERIOUS!!!! I just know there were people with oversized Vetement hoodies in their closets who thought they’d have been better off lighting $1k on fire than the bridges they burned along the way.
What I’m trying to say is, it all gets a little “the emperor has no clothes” for me at times. A brand or a designer becomes shorthand for having taste or money or exclusivity, and that’s where people flock to, regardless of whether they like it or it makes any sense for their personal style. That doesn’t mean the designer isn’t talented! It just means there are a lot of sheeple out there. (And listen, I can baaah with the best of them, so this is the pot calling the kettle black.)
That’s how I feel about this Phoebe Philo moment, if I’m being honest. Are the clothes beautiful? Yes, of course. And I think Philo understands how to design for women, which I can appreciate. But absolutely nothing about this launch merits this level of attention, if you ask me.
First—and you knew I was going to take issue with this, didn’t you?—the sizing is…disappointing, to say the least. Here’s ye olde size guide:
Not the worst I’ve seen (it doesn’t stop at a US 8, which, I sincerely am astonished every time I stumble across a brand in this, the year of our Lord 2023, which still stops in single digits) but it’s not great! A FR 44 is about a US 12. I saw folks on social media dismiss this complaint by saying, “Well, of course it wasn’t going to be inclusive, Phoebe has never cared about that” and that is the fucking problem, my friends!!! No one cares about this except for, you know, fat women who want to buy nice clothes and maybe a handful of straight-sized editors. Too many people treat size inclusivity as a nice little add-on when really, at this point, going to a 16/XL is bare minimum stuff for me.
I give a lot of smaller brands a pass on this, because I understand that you can’t just scale a sample size up to an 18 and call it a day. You have to hire people who are experienced in pattern-making for plus sizes, you have to invest in fit models and samples, so forth. It is a larger cost up front, and people who pretend it isn’t are being dishonest.
But Philo has a minority investment from LVMH, the largest and most powerful luxury conglomerate in the industry. They can afford to eat the cost of size expansion. (This is true for all their brands, but I’m trying to focus here.) At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m not particularly excited about female designers who “design for women” if they don’t give a shit about women over a size 10.
Then there are the prices. The jaw-dropper was this hand-knitted, sequined t-shirt dress which sells for $19k. It’s hand-knitted…great, but it’s viscose yarn, commonly known as rayon. When I turned 16, my parents bought me a car that was worth about $10k (itself a privilege and an extravagance, of course!) and even taking inflation into consideration, this dress is still more expensive than that car. And I drove that thing damn near into the ground!
(No one asked, but, to make sure you sleep better at night knowing the full car saga: I kept that same car for a decade, finally selling for cash—$3k—when I moved to New York.)
People on social media were like, “lol losers it’s like you’ve never heard of luxury fashion, prices are high.” I need some of you to get serious, here. I am completely aware that the high end of the luxury market commands similar and higher pricing, and I still think that is batshit crazy, especially considering the quality isn’t commensurately increasing. This is like when Daniel Lee’s first collection for Burberry hit the internet, and they were out here with a 100% viscose dress selling for $21,000. Doesn’t make any sense to me!!! If it makes sense to you, I have some follow up questions.
I know that the point is exclusivity. Well, bully for you, but I could be the richest human on the planet and you wouldn’t catch me spending $1,100 on leggings. You’re a bunch of silly gooses! It’s your money and you should spend it how you like, obviously, but ask yourself: Am I buying this because I sincerely love it, or am I buying it in hopes that it will confer some magical powers onto me, making me seem more interesting or more wealthy than I really am?
Finally, I just think those prices are insulting in a drop model. I don’t think there’s anything luxury about spending $8k on a bag you’ve never seen or felt, rushing to checkout to make sure someone else doesn’t get it before you can.
And then there’s the fact that accusations of racism have dogged Philo for years and ultimately never came to anything beyond a few vocal voices on the internet. That doesn’t surprise me in an industry that puts profit over people (see also: Adidas/Kanye West), but it’s no less disappointing. Remember what I said about people treating size inclusivity as a nice little add-on instead of a bare minimum requirement? That’s how a lot of folks feel about racial representation as well. If a brand or a designer does it in a particularly showy way, we throw them a ticker tape parade, and if they don’t…well. No one will notice, right?
Anyway: Great gowns, beautiful gowns! The new Phoebe Philo line is beautiful, no doubt, and I’m sure I’ll see plenty of it at fashion events in the coming weeks and months.
But ultimately, I’m still confused as to why so many people were losing their minds over it. I think Jesica put it best when she said Philo “is known for making the most profoundly uninteresting women appear extraordinarily cool.” It’s less that Philo is incapable of making beautiful clothes and more that people don’t know how to find interesting style on their own. I don’t think that’s true for everyone who loves Philo, but it is for many.
And, here’s the thing: If you really want Philo’s silhouettes and work that much, you can still find it on secondhand sites. Her work at Céline didn’t all disappear in a fire. Besides that, there is a plethora of designers who either came up in her ateliers or who regularly borrow ideas from her, so it’s not like there’s been a complete dearth of Philoisms in the market.
I am kinda thrilled at the idea she might bring back heeled oxfords, though. I’ve been ready for this moment since 2009.
Thank you -- the only review of this collection that makes any sense to me. The prices, sizing, the MUM necklace, the $1100 leggings... I don't get it! Thank you for the thoughtful and smart review, while keeping things down to earth... was starting to feel a little bit crazy watching the heaps of praise and freak outs over this one.