A few weeks ago, I found myself in a troubling internet shopping hole. While scrolling aimlessly in the wee hours of the morning (when dopamine is low and impulsivity is high), a ruffled apron-inspired design caught my eye. This would look so cute over a skirt and tank top, I thought. Drunk on the sartorial possibilities and my self-delusion, I worked hard to convince myself that a wildly impractical piece was, in fact, a smart and cool purchase I would in no way regret and I almost succeeded.
The harsh light of morning brought me to my senses. What was I doing? Thinking of buying an apron? Without exaggeration, I haven’t cooked I haven't cooked a proper meal since 2020 unless you count my signature five-minute butter pasta. Phrases like made from scratch and baking are not part of my culinary vocabulary. I have no business owning adorable kitchen accessories, nor do I know my way around a kitchen. I wonder if my obsession with aprons signifies a latent desire for domesticity. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Am I secretly yearning for a simpler life in a log cabin, and is all this living in an apartment and having a job just part of some simulation?
After all, if I’m not a traditional wife, why would I want to dress like one?
I can see that you're referring to the recent trend in traditional wife-associated fashion, particularly with the Neeleman family and their Utah estate gaining attention. You've noticed a crossover with your own personal style, such as the polka-dotted Frankies Bikinis dress worn by Nara Smith and the Reformation sundresses. These styles, including puffed sleeves, below-the-knee cuts, and muted florals, have become associated with the traditional wife lifestyle due to the popularity of certain fashion choices on platforms like TikTok.
If you’ve found yourself in a similar fashion dilemma, just know that you're not alone. That dress scares me a little, said a friend when confronted with a shopping link to a Picnic at Hanging Rock worthy gown. It’s giving trade. Other colleagues, confidants, and fashion lovers admitted to me that they too had wondered: Does this dress make me look traditional?
When it comes to traditional fashion, you know it when you see it. Spend just a few minutes scrolling, and you’ll notice a common aesthetic emerge amongst those who bake barefoot, so to speak. Smith, a recent magazine cover star and the movement’s newly anointed fashion queen, favors mid-century polka dots, retro square necklines, and dresses trimmed in vintage lace. I counted, and she’s only worn pants twice on TikTok since the summer began (and half of those pants were pajamas).
Dresses with puffed sleeves and sailor collars are a popular fashion choice at Ballerina Farm. The mother, who goes by the title "8 Littles" on TikTok, adds a Western touch to the traditional wife outfit style. She pairs her ditsy florals with cowboy boots and gingham, giving her clothing a Little House on the Prairie vibe rather than the Betty Draper look. However, Neeleson's fashion sense shares similarities with TikTokers who pair '50s housewife skirts with their casseroles as they all draw inspiration from the past for their fashion choices.
In the traditional wife movement, femininity and conservatism are combined, both in terms of style and ideology. It's not surprising that those who reject the 9 to 5 girlboss lifestyle would prefer clothing from the past. Victorian design elements and postwar silhouettes fit perfectly into the idyllic domestic scenes often seen on TikTok, complete with well-behaved children and freshly baked bread.
Anyone who, like me, enjoys historically-inspired fashion runs the risk of being seen as traditional rather than trendy when wearing a floral dress or clothing with vintage details. This is because fashion is influenced by the past and the environment in which one lives. For example, a dress that I might see as reminiscent of a French cabaret star from Moulin Rouge, others might interpret as representative of traditional values and domesticity, due to the influence of TikTok culture.
Fashion is a powerful form of self expression, and I don't want to give the wrong impression just because I enjoy wearing ruffles. I'm sure many people feel the same way, especially those who have vintage nightgowns sitting in their closets. I'm married but don't have children. I work a regular job and come home to a cat that I treat more like a demanding roommate than a pet. I work for a company, not a specific individual. The last thing I want is for my outfit to convey something I don't believe in.
It's important to be clear that I don’t oppose choosing stay-at-home motherhood over the 9 to 5 grind it’s a privilege that many people working towards early retirement could only dream of. No one would argue that raising several small children at once isn’t work. It’s hard work, important work, and I’d guess often more complex work than writing my silly little articles for the internet (which is no doubt a major reason I have subconsciously chosen this life).
However, the traditional wife trend is not all baked goods and fresh air despite what the influencers who make it look easy may want you to believe. It quite literally requires a fortune to maintain a sprawling property on a single income. And if you’ve never read Laura Ingalls Wilder, spoiler alert: Homesteading doesn’t usually work out.
Touting the traditional life online as the only one worth living is disingenuous. I don’t want to go back to society before feminism. It gives me the creeps. I love the life I’ve built for myself. My job, income, and identity are inexorably tied to living in the most densely populated city in the country, where the Diet Coke index is off the charts, not some predestined fate comprised of toddlers, chickens, and geographic isolation.
I’m beyond thrilled to have a credit card in my name, the right to vote, and the luxury to decide whether or not I want to raise barnyard animals. Unlike most traditional women throughout history, I had (and continue to have) options.
So, if I wear a frilly dress to the Greenpoint farmer’s market, I don't need (or want) the never-ending traditional wife discourse giving people the wrong idea. But what's a girl to do? Upcycle all her poplin? Donate her hard-earned vintage? I refuse to let the internet win.
I embrace the humor in all of this. What initially drew me to so-called traditional fashion was the inherent irony I find it amusing to wear an apron to pick up takeout for the fourth night in a row from my favorite Thai place. Typing away at my sad, undecorated desk in a floor-length Victorian nightgown amidst the corporate murmurs of FiDi tickles my fancy. I enjoy a good joke, and my outfits are no exception.
