I’ve been on the couch all week suffering from a bad cold, and while searching for non-challenging TV shows to binge watch I came across Younger.
The main premise is a 40-year-old divorcee mum having trouble getting back in the workforce so she lies and says she is 26 in order to get a job in book publishing.
It’s a piece of rom-com silliness with a lot of cute millennial jokes thrown in, but what has me riveted is the clothes the main characters wear (which change every scene and the series has about 1 zillion episodes so that is a hell of a lot of kimonos worn with combat boots).
The stylist is Patricia Field, the New York designer who worked on Sex and The City, and who has lot of fun with fashion get-ups the Younger girls wear, which are next level batshit-insane.
The show is mostly set in Brooklyn or Williamsburg, and they make references to the hipster and kinfolk trends, tattoos and beards and a hunk in a singlet with thick brushed back hair playing washboard in a bluegrass band, but the women are dressed like a Tasmanian devil went mad in a thrift store.
Apparently to look young, main character Liza has to wear everything, all at once, like an upturned laundry basket. She wears shorts, and mini skirts to the office, with over the knee boots, or biker boots. With a brightly patterned shirt. Then top with some sort of clashing fabric jacket. And maybe a vest as well. And a belt. And dangly earrings. And potentially a parka or a long line cardigan. And purple eye shadow, which last time I looked, absolutely no one has ever worn. And hot pink lipstick.
Her glamorous boss, who is an icy, but likeable dragon lady character that gives a distinct nod to Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada and who actually is supposed to be 40, wears the most peculiar accumulation of gorgeous pieces, like A-line wool tweed skirts, sleek black skirts suits and white opera coats with completely demented costume jewellery and horrible colour clashing geometric motifs. It’s part 80s, part I have no idea.
The character of Kelsey (played by Hilary Duff) has some semblance of sartorial sanity, wearing tight little sheath dresses, jeans and sparkly tops that look like they are from Zara, but Liza’s wardrobe is a hot mess.
More relatable is her world weary lesbian flatmate with the New York accent played by the wonderful Debi Mazar, who wears her winged eyeliner, red lips and jet-black 1940s hair with wide-legged black pants and push up bras, B-grade film siren style.
Anway, apparently all that loony layering is fooling every good looking man in New York, and Liza is being propositioned by tattoo artists, publishing scions and handsome Kinfolk wool farmers so ladies, if you want to take years off your age, just grab everything you own and put it all on. With boots. And a pull-down knit hat. Amirite?