The Role of Fashion Editors and Insider Picks

My inbox is a disaster, but here’s the thing: editors don’t just regurgitate press releases. They’re hunting for stuff nobody else has. My own lineup? It’s a mess of last-minute edits and random designer finds, not whatever’s trending on Instagram.

How Editors Curate Capsule Wardrobes

If you think editors just buy up sample sales and call it a day, you’re dreaming. I keep spreadsheets of what lasts—black wool blazers, mid-rise trousers, plain boots. I have a “keep forever” pile and a “resell immediately” pile. Editors I know are obsessed with fabric content; I once checked a blazer tag four times after a dry cleaner disaster. Capsule wardrobes aren’t boring, they’re just practical. If Burberry trench coats keep popping up, it’s because they survive Paris rain and New York snow, not because of hype. Editors’ roles explained, if you care.

Spotlighting Savette, Celine, and Burberry

Insider favorites are a mystery. No trend report explains why people keep buying Celine or Savette. I overheard a stylist—she’s still using the same Celine moccasins and a Savette bag that’s survived Fashion Weeks, the subway, and some kind of powder explosion. Celine’s Triomphe line always ranks for durability and style—some magazines even keep spreadsheets on cost-per-wear.

Savette’s not even a press darling; it’s more like, “Hey, my friend’s assistant tipped me off.” Here’s more on that editor magic. If three fashion directors drag Burberry raincoats through Milan, that says more than any ad campaign. I still haven’t spilled coffee on my Burberry scarf after seven years, which is either luck or some kind of weird fashion karma.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why do the best-dressed people always dodge the hype, but their clothes last forever? It’s never about price, just about killer tailoring, fabric that doesn’t quit, and not getting tagged in every “must-have” roundup.

What brands do style experts recommend for high-quality apparel?

I used to believe every headline, but then I met a Milan buyer who pointed at Loro Piana and The Row and said, “Check the hems.” A friend wears Khaite knits for a week straight—no stretching, no sagging. People are swapping Gildan tees for Massimo Alba shirts just for the feel. Even my FedEx guy recognized my Aspesi jacket before my coworkers did. Not sure what that says about me, but it probably isn’t great.

How can I find reliable reviews on upscale fashion labels?

Honestly, where do you even start? Half the time I’m scrolling, it’s just influencer after influencer, all hashtagged up and—let’s be real—probably paid. Ugh. I mean, who’s actually buying this stuff for themselves? I’ve started asking my dry cleaner which sweaters come in looking like roadkill after two wears, and sometimes they just laugh and say, “Oh, that brand again.” Facebook groups for designer resale? Weirdly informative, if you can get past the chaos and the drama. There’s this Food Label Insiders thing—yeah, it’s for food, but the idea is basically the same: nosy people sharing what brands mess up. Wish the fashion world had more of that. Why does nobody ever mention what the showroom staff say? Like, they see the hems fall apart, right? But no, instead I waste half an hour reading a review from some guy who’s angry his designer coat didn’t include a hanger. Priorities, I guess.

What constitutes a ‘quiet luxury’ brand, and why are they so sought after?

Oh, here we go. “Quiet luxury”—is that just code for ‘beige and overpriced’? That’s what everyone says, but honestly, no. My cousin, who couldn’t care less about logos, picked up a Brunello Cucinelli sweatshirt at a flea market—fleamarket!—and now won’t shut up about how it’s still soft after a year. Is that the magic? No clue. People throw around “stealth wealth” like it’s some secret club, but if your $900 pants turn into shapeless blobs after dry cleaning, the insiders just move on. And don’t even get me started on the waitlists. Some of these “understated” brands are harder to get than concert tickets, but nobody’s flexing laundry instructions on Instagram, so maybe that’s the point? Or maybe everyone’s just pretending.

Which contemporary fashion brands are favorites amongst fashion insiders?

Dinner last week: two stylists nearly come to blows over Totême’s seams versus Proenza Schouler’s trousers. Why are seams so controversial? No idea. One swears by A.P.C. jeans for everyday, the other’s defending Nanushka’s vegan leather like she owns stock. I keep seeing people mix COS with vintage Céline and nobody blinks. How do you even get into those exclusive insider forums? I got invited once, asked if Uniqlo counted, and—surprise—booted in under a day. Maybe I’ll just stick to lurking.

Where do savvy shoppers go for luxury pieces without the loud branding?

This part is basically a scavenger hunt. Ever try to leave a department store without getting sprayed with perfume or being guilted into a logo bag? I can’t. So I just go to consignment shops run by people who can identify Dries Van Noten from across the room. Online? Vestiaire Collective, TheRealReal—fine, but you have to check the seller’s history like you’re looking for hidden treasure because “worn once” is usually a lie. Oh, and those warehouse sales in Milan? Nobody talks about them, but I swear, you’ll find more GRIS and Gabriela Hearst in one afternoon than a month of eBay scrolling. Why isn’t that common knowledge? Maybe people want to keep it secret.

What lifestyle choices characterize the ‘quiet luxury’ movement?

Honestly, I still can’t figure out if I’m supposed to care about this quiet luxury thing or just pretend I don’t notice it. Like, why am I even thinking about it? I mean, I’ve literally thrown a cashmere sweater under a ratty jacket just so nobody at work would ask annoying questions—what’s the point of owning something nice if you’re just hiding it? And everyone acts like people who do this only sip weirdly expensive tea and book flights in business class, but then I’ll spot someone in a Max Mara coat at the bus stop, eating a bagel like it’s a survival challenge. Is that supposed to be aspirational? I don’t know.

It’s not about, like, having a chef or whatever. It’s more about buying shoes that don’t fall apart after one wet winter—Italian loafers, sure, but only because they last forever and you don’t have to keep tossing stuff out. So, maybe it’s just being lazy about shopping? Or stubborn? The only thing that’s actually obvious is the way people in this so-called “movement” find each other—just a faded tag, not some screaming logo. Is that cool? Is it just old money cosplay? I end up in these circles by accident, honestly. No idea how.