Wilde-Styles Fashion as the Millennial Divide

The photos of Miss Wilde and Mr. Styles on a strut about town surfaced this week in which they do a little casualwear pivot turn, modeling deceptively similar outfits. First-thought tweets and Pop Sugar articles sprouted in response with sentiments of ‘couples that dress the same’ jokes about their “matching outfits.” No, no, no. Get your analysis goggles on, because I’m channeling my inner Hunter Harris with this one. You see, the outfits are far from matching, but actually distill key differences in each of the distressed-jean wearers. The picture perfectly encapsulates the inter-millennial divide that exists at the people at the poles of the generation. Yes, I’m making it an age thing. No, not to try to disparage the relationship or age-shame, because frankly, these two dating both make a lot of sense and none at all to me. It is important to note, I’m Gen Z, yes, but I’m analyzing these minimalisms with love and admiration, because I would be worse off if your kind couldn’t teach me about Kate Bush or share funny childhood misunderstandings of the Clinton Impeachment Trial. Or tell me which Sex and the City girl I am while I quietly reflect upon Anna-Sophia Robb’s The Carrie Diaries pool scene with Austin Butler. That being said, Wilde was born in 1984 and Styles in 1994, both on the outer cusps of millennial birth-year perimeters that broadly span 1981-1995. And the point is they’re dressing exactly in line with their own age. Styles teeters into the baggy yet colorful chaotic territory that Gen Z appreciates, while Wilde inhabits an elder millennial desire for minimalism and stark contrast.

Let’s itemize! I feel like the really obvious item to start with is the jeans. The jeans are really the thesis of the division. Styles’ bright Americana blue jeans are loose, slouching, almost veering him into possible 90s-pants that-look -like-they-could-fall-off direction. A slightly lower rise? We won’t mail him a SAG award just yet. Unbelted, because belting jeans is painful now. Not painful in that I hate the way it looks, but the way it feels! Jeans should feel unrestrictive, but still no to spandex material, please. Honestly, his jeans are the piece I want to purchase most in this photo, because lately each time I online-shop I search for baggier and baggier jeans. (And proceed to close the tab without buying, but still). His jeans feature four holes: two largely distressed to completely expose the knees, one on the lower hip (left leg), and one on the mid to upper thigh in which the threads are not completely severed (right leg). The amount of distress feels important in comparison to the more deliberate knee slash cut-out of Wilde’s black jeans. Yet Wilde’s second lower cut-out on the left leg elevates the simplicity of the ripped denim to a slightier edgier look that ramps up the Madewell feel to Rag & Bone. (No idea the brand of either of their jeans, by the way. Just talking vibes, almost no research). Wilde’s high-waisted black jean tells all, because I could not name a more millennial jean if I tried. With a straight-leg and raw hem as well? The jeans might as well be ordering takeout and using Netflix as a verb while stalking their ex-boyfriend on Facebook, they’re so millennial. A skinny jean compromise for the cool mom. Hers are a legging to his biker short.

The shirt! Wow, the shirt is seriously climatic. Wilde’s rolled-sleeve white asymmetrically tucked short-sleeve white button down was casually called “louche” by one Vogue dot com. First off, I had to google “louche” before I understood it as a French word for sordid but in a chic way. So, camp? So this white wrinkled, wind-swept shirt is camp? Honestly, fine; I’m ambivalent towards the shirt. The shirt is a brandless (to me) cotton body-sized square sheet. The shirt has no seasoning, so she tries to salt and pepper it with the rolled sleeves and necklace, but it’s the rolling of sleeves in an aggressively tiny way that signals older millennial alarms. Yet her smile is selling the look, so I love it for her. Still, is it louche, per say? I’m not so sure, my dear. Styles in a Beastie Boys tee, which is a solid band tee that is youthful, playful in a retro referencing moment. The red-white-and-blue of it all makes the outfit boyish and charming. It’s a smidge too short in a been-through-the-wash sort of way.

Let’s finish out the building blocks of the outfit before we tackle accessories, because the shoes are integral. Wilde’s Commes des Garçons Play low-tops firmly establish Wilde as an early millennial that was inspired by the Japanese brand with a French name that translates as “like some boys” that asserts the founder, Rei Kawakubo’s appeal to unisex aspirations in the brand’s steady flirtationship with androgeny. This shoe is a subtle circa 2018 nod to the dismissal of gender norms. Very much on theme, Styles wore Commes des Garçons in the infamous December 2020 Vogue cover shoot, wearing the navy kilt from the Commes des Garçons Homme Plus Spring 2021 collection while jumping on a trampoline. This shoot, of course, celebrated Styles’ fashion fluidity when it comes to the gender expression which secures his pop star status in the long lineage of male pop icons expressing their own relationship with femininity. Styles’ Adidas with yellow laces and blue stripe detailing are again, boyish and energetic, a real reflection of the singer himself. It’s a perfect touch, frankly. This week’s Harry outfit recalls this Olivia outfit from February which hits every mark for me—the floral scrunchie (very early millennial in comparison to Harry’s claw clip attached to the crewneck, the clip is a Zillienal comeback item) in an Olympic gymnast bun, the bright red nails, the Love and Basketball Sweats, the doubled silver necklace—it’s everything.

The hats are baffling, I will admit. Styles’ reads “Katie and Conor are my friends,” which seems to refer to British fashion stylist and journalist, Katie Grand and London-based photographer and director, Conor Clinch after cursory Instagram research. It’s a personal item and it’s that line “I heard Jenny saying/ Go get the kids from school" in “Canyon Moon,” in that it’s just for him, not for us. Wilde’s hat is one of those L.A. wide brimmed sun hats that is more clean-lined and structured to wear for everyday, not as floppy as a beach hat. Wilde is famously a hat queen. She was consistently wearing Gladys Tamez Millinery hats (luxury brand based in Los Angeles) at the 2019 SXSW Festival, so that is my best guess brand-wise. The hats really solidify Wilde’s firm superiority as a woman that wears hats with confidence while in keeping with Wilde’s southwestern boho fashion leanings. She’s thoroughly an L.A woman, so she must dress like she at least owns crystals.

Onto to additional sun protection, the eyewear. Styles has been whipping out these Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka sunglasses for years; they’re Saint Laurent and crystalize every outing as just quirky enough. Wilde’s glasses are Lexxola Damien and look like something a movie record label villain à la Jimmy Fallon in Almost Famous would wear. Referencing films that star Freddie Highmore or Kate Hudson, now that’s millennial culture (again, I say as Gen Z baby).

Their necklaces outside of the shirt feels very I-grew-up reading-Harry Potter-at-the- exact-age-of-Harry Potter to me, too. Of course, Wilde was actually older and Styles actually younger than the title character of the ghostwritten series. But that’s really the question these pap photos (sorry) pose: is the gap in the cultural reference points even amidst the same generation (due to the immense manufacturing of pop culture that technology/ the internet has skyrocketed) too large to relate to one another? It’s the older-to-mid Gen Z kids that watched High School Musical trilogy versus the young things that High School Musical: The Musical: The Series is their entry point to Troy Bolton types. It’s the original Gossip Girl versus the reboot. Yet Wilde and Styles are perfectly reflective of their age and generation but are also the types to identify as both being an “old soul” in their preference for 70s homage fashion (Yes, Gucci speaking) and music, as well as a “child at heart” in their shared penchant for spontaneity. Their core values are actually very in line, so maybe the TV shows they watched as kids aren’t as important to them. Yet Wilde and Styles are patron saints of Gen Z (maybe young millennials too) as creators of seminal art in Styles’ 1D hits and solo albums coupled with Wilde’s joyful, perfect, compassionate, stupid, hilarous film Booksmart. The four of us (Suburban Elitist) quote that film no joke, every single time we are in a room together. It is a modern cult classic; we rewatched it (lost count of total viewings at this point) on Fourth of July this year because it is American Art. And we’ll be at Styles’ Love on Tour this Fall. These are two celebrities we will show up and out for.

Onward. Wilde’s gold clunky bracelet is also in the chat. The peak of a green bra or maybe swimsuit and the tote are grounding elements to remind the viewer that celebs are just like us, although our “everyone must see my outfit” walks are not papped. As my teaching lesson wraps up, I have no real desire to comment on the relationship as a whole and will emphasize this is more of a sociological analysis through the lens of fashion than an excuse to make fun of celebrity couples. You know what’s very of the current times? The fact they have no couple name, because that is a Gen X vehicle and we’re done with forcing it. And finally, this photo will live in infamy as a rework of the Harry lyric “there’s a piece of you in how I dress, take it as a compliment,” for they are certainly not “matching” but are justifying their own cultural mirrors defined by their axis points on the millennial timeline.