“Hot girl summer”. The phrase seemed exciting at first, on our lips and resting in our minds. A moment, post-endless lockdowns across the globe, for us to be free again, and express that freedom through minimal clothing, visions of sweaty dance floors and shared saliva grinding through the brain.
It was always a feeling, the sentiment of not only dressing in less, but living with a forthright attitude in the height of heat – embodied, and racy, and hedonistic – tucked away in a desperate corner of our subconscious in the name of understated elegance. It gave itself up as we attempted to be perceived as more grown up, more serious, more in control. Phoebe Philo’s reign at Céline, and grip on our perception of fashion, had us in a…
