The Jenna Lyons of Minimalism

[View on the web]( [Visit our site!]( [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( I Miss Playing Dress-Up The only time I ever got sent home from school, I was 4 years old. On that day I was determined to play dress-up, but not in just anything. No, I would wear the most beautiful skirt in our preschool’s hand-me-down costume trunk: cream-colored with a floral pattern and a lacy trim, and — crucially, for a 4-year-old — an elastic waistband. Everyone wanted to wear it, but because my arch-enemy, Monica, always arrived to school before I did, she always claimed it before I could, and lorded it over the rest of us for three whole hours. That day, I was the first one there. But as I hustled toward the trunk an evil force blew past me, shoving me off-course. I knew before I saw her: Monica. When she yanked the skirt up over her sneakers and leggings and twirled around, smiling, I grabbed a plastic tea kettle from the adjacent play kitchen and I hit her over the head with it. [Insert alt text here] Insofar as violence was concerned, lesson learned. (Monica was fine, gimlet-eyed, imperious.) My mom had to pick me up early and I was so ashamed I would have rather died than come back the next day. My covetous mania for dress-up, however, was undiminished. It seemed that the older I got, the more dress-up opportunities there were — at least until I was 25 or so, and then they started to dwindle. Now, at 30, they have all but disappeared. By the time you’ve safely cleared your young adulthood, there is mainly just the one big dress-up left: your wedding. Two, if you count your funeral, but who wants to keep a Pinterest board going for that? Much of this, of course, is my own doing. I could go to more parties and put more effort into the outfits I wear to them. But it’s not the parties I miss, it’s the preparation. And getting ready at home alone, or with my partner, is not the same thing as getting ready communally, sharing a mirror and soliciting final outfit approval from friends. Dressing up for a party in college required planning and coordination — I’m not wearing a dress if you’re wearing jeans, wear my red heels if you’re wearing that skirt, I’ll do your smoky eye if you do mine. It is in these sorts of social situations that I shine. Without the mass frenzy to get ready beforehand, I rarely have the energy for the actual going out. Nor is there anyone I’m trying as hard to impress. I suppose this sort of self-actualization is one of the good things about getting older, but sometimes I miss that eagerness to be a cooler, wilder, sexier me. It resulted in so many more interesting outfits. My dress-up opportunities these days are so few and far between, and my hopes for them so high, that they’re inevitably a letdown. The last time I dressed up for Halloween, I went as the Dana Scully to my girlfriend’s Fox Mulder. I spent ages drawing up FBI badges for the laminated ID holders I’d ordered online. Our party plans fell through, and we ended up going over to a friend’s apartment to watch scary movies. We stayed in costume, because by then it felt like a waste not to. But sitting on their couch, wearing suits (and not even authentically oversized ones), it felt like a waste anyway. In recent years I’ve spent ages agonizing over the perfect dress to wear to my employer’s Christmas parties only to hate the way they felt, or the way they looked in photographs. And sure, those unmet party expectations happened in college, too, but it didn’t matter so much with an $11 sequined dress from Forever 21. The dress-up stakes have gotten so much higher, and the payoff seems more and more fleeting. For most of my adolescence, I wanted to get married in a ballgown with a skirt so big it would swallow me whole. If I don’t wear a gown like that on my wedding day, what other chance will I have? But I think what I really want is not to wear a gown like that for any real-life occasion, but for play. What I miss is putting on clothes that aren’t mine and imagining that I am living someone else’s life. What I miss is having a section of my closet cordoned off for my “going-out clothes.” It’s less about the specific polyester pull-over dresses I wore to parties in college and more about the way putting them on made me feel before I left my room: consciously and deliberately assembled, believing a single outfit might still change my whole life. —[Katie Heaney](, contributing writer [Deal of the Day](#) Loungewear brand Sleepy Jones is [having an anniversary sale](, with cute PJs marked down up to 75% off. The [Marina Pajama Shirt]( is $42 (from $168), and the [matching bottoms]( are $41 (from $118); the [Isa Short Robe]( is $89 (from $248); and the linen [Flora Wide Legged Pants]( are $99 (from $262). There’s a ton to shop for both men and women, including other basics like socks, underwear, tees, and more. [Insert alt text here] In the News THIS WOMAN IS DESIGNING YOUR CLOSET AND YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW IT Time’s annual list of the [100 most influential people in the world]( is out today, and from the fashion corner, there’s [Raf Simons]( (now the chief creative officer of Calvin Klein) and [Alessandro Michele]( (the creative director of Gucci). Totally fair. Simons has been tasked with evolving America’s most iconic brand, and Michele turned Gucci into a raging, colorful success out of nowhere. I want to talk about Rebekka Bay, though. She didn’t make Time’s list, and it’s likely you’ve never heard of her, but she’s one of the people responsible for bringing chic, Scandinavian-leaning simplicity to your closet. Bay is 48, Danish, and blonde with an impish sort of look. You know COS, the H&M offshoot known for its structural, affordable avant-garde vibe? She launched it. Then she went to Gap, then to Everlane, and as of this week, she has [hooked up with Uniqlo](, which has its own style of simple chicness going on via [its collections]( designed by Christophe Lemaire. Bay is the new head of Uniqlo’s New York research and design center, meaning she’s right at the center of the action as the company [goes about courting US shoppers](. That’s influence. —[Eliza Brooke](, senior reporter Ad from our sponsor Feature [An Era of Elevated Oral Care Is Upon Us]( [Insert alt text here]( When I opened the mailer to reveal four small boxes in the colors of the tropics, I let out an audible “Ahhh!” My reaction was immediate and visceral. Was it a beautiful makeup palette? A sublime new fragrance? Nope, it was dental floss. Cocofloss, to be precise. The floss in Cocofloss is the color of the water around Turks and Caicos. It’s coated with coconut oil, the favorite ingredient of wellness acolytes everywhere. And it comes scented, in your choice of coconut, mint, strawberry, or orange. It costs almost three times as much as your average drugstore floss. Goop sells it, as does Free People. Welcome to hipster oral care. [Keep reading >>]( Check This Out These Crazy-Ass Hot Pants Are All Over Instagram [Insert alt text here]( I’m sure the joys of finding the perfect vintage jeans are not lost on anyone. That’s more or less the story behind [Miaou]( (pronounced “meow,” unfortunately), the new denim brand behind those grommet-detailed jeans that’ve been all over Instagram lately — on the likes of [Selena Gomez](, model [Paloma Elsesser](, a [Hadid](, and, most recently, [Lady Gaga]( — and is inspired by perfectly fitting vintage styles. The pants themselves are a really fun hip-hugging shape with a super-high waist, available in a variety of styles and fabrics that range from [pinstripes]( to [leather]( to [plaid](. But the best, most unique thing about the whole look is the round, silver grommet belt loops and the fun belts that come laced through them; for any given pair you buy, you get to choose an accompaniment like [rope](, [chains](, [silk](, or even [rhinestones](. Sure, they’re over the top, but that’s the whole point. Prices from $295. —[Tanisha Pina](, associate market editor [MORE GOOD STUFF ON RACKED](#) - [What Netflix’s ‘Girlboss’ Gets Right (and Wrong) About the Nasty Gal Story]( - [Can Walmart Become Your Favorite Online Shopping Destination?]( - [Space Is the Final Frontier — of Skincare]( - [Retail Workers Fight to Get a Cut in the Era of E-Commerce]( Did a friend forward you this email? [Sign up for the Racked newsletter](. Ad from our sponsor From Our Partners A selection from the editors at Racked [Vicuña]( [Have You Ever Noticed This About the Women in Stock Photos?]( LIES. [Read more]( [A beach in Miami.]( [Wouldn't You Rather Be in Miami Right Now?]( Win a trip for two to Miami! Enter our sweepstakes with Baublebar. [Read more]( Ad from our sponsor [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( This email was sent to {EMAIL}. Manage your [email preferences]( or [unsubscribe]( to stop receiving emails from Racked. Vox Media, 1201 Connecticut Ave. NW, Washington, DC 20036. Copyright © 2016. 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