This morning, just like any other day, people across the United States will rise and get ready for the day ahead. However, in the wake of the 2024 Presidential election, as the reality of a second Donald Trump presidency sets in, many Americans may find it harder than usual to summon the energy to get out of bed, dress, and face the day.
As people tried to move forward this morning, I couldn’t help but notice how New Yorkers dressed to confront a world that seems to have embraced hatred in all its forms. I chose to lean into my grief, donning a black boatneck long-sleeve t-shirt and black jeans. It didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t the only one. The first two young women I encountered after leaving my apartment were also dressed entirely in black. Walking along the train platform in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, felt almost like a funeral procession.
In moments like these, our clothing takes on a deeper significance. It becomes armor, a source of solace, a sign of solidarity. Surrounded by others in mourning attire, I found an unexpected sense of comfort and community. As I walked down the street and stood at the train station, I was among people—mostly women—dressed in black suits, skirts, and dresses, their tired eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. I knew that, like me, they weren’t just sharing the same style, but also the same heartbreak over the election results and a deep sense of disillusionment with those who voted against our collective well-being.
Fashion is an art, yes, but it is also foundational to our everyday lives. And in desperate times, it becomes a salve. Today, I look around the Vogue office and see my coworkers using clothing as a coping mechanism. Many of my colleagues who sought comfort swaddled themselves in cozy knit sweaters and turned to well-worn jeans and broken-in flat shoes. And, like myself, a large contingency are wearing their hearts on their sleeves, dressed in all black. Some used it as an outlet for their fury and outrage, ready to take on a new day in sharp-shouldered blazers and platform heels. Others yearned for a sense of normalcy and dressed for business as usual.
We have a long journey ahead, but it’s crucial that we allow ourselves to sit with our emotions today—and dress in whatever makes us feel safe, strong, or at ease. Grief can be a profoundly isolating experience. Yet, to recognize, simply by someone’s attire, that the stranger next to us on the train or passing by on our way to work is sharing in that same pain, offers a small but meaningful comfort.
