Alright, let me walk you through how I totally fell down this rabbit hole and tried to channel Stephanie Seymour’s legendary 90s supermodel vibe this weekend. It started kinda random.
The Spark
I was scrolling through old Vogue covers on my phone yesterday morning, kinda feeling blah about my usual jeans and tee combo. Stumbled on Stephanie Seymour – seriously, that woman had it. Those strong brows, the messy curls, the way she owned a simple tee like it was couture. I was sucked in. Clicked around, found more shots: her with Christy Turlington, that iconic Guess ad… it clicked. THAT era? That effortless cool? I wanted it, bad. Like, today. Needed to try it myself, see if this normie could even get a sniff of that magic.
The Hunt & The Mess
So, I raided my closet. Not gonna lie, felt hopeless at first. My stuff felt… too new. Too perfect. Seymour’s look back then was all about lived-in basics and killer confidence. I didn’t have the confidence part figured out yet, so focused on the basics.
- Scoured the bottom drawer: Dug out a basic white tee – soft, washed a million times.
- Found jeans that weren’t skinny: Remembered those high-waisted vintage Levi’s I bought on a whim last year and never wore? Perfect. Snug waist, flared slightly. Definitely needed the higher waist.
- The blazer quest got messy: Pulled out every single blazer I own. Too boxy? Too stiff? Too corporate? Finally grabbed an oversized black linen one. Shoulders looked sharp, but the fabric felt slouchy enough.
- Accessory panic: Searched for chunky, real gold-looking stuff. Remembered a gold link bracelet my aunt gave me ages ago and some heavy gold hoops. That was it. No dainty stuff here.
- Makeup attempt: Tried recreating that iconic look. Darkened my brows with powder. Used a matte brown cream shadow and smudged it lazily around my eyes. Skipped the heavy eyeliner – just mascara. Slapped on a warm, kinda burnt red-brown lipstick I found lurking in the back. Felt messy, honestly.
- Hair disaster zone: Oh god, the hair. My limp straight hair REFUSED to curl like that. Tried scrunching with gel and mousse, spraying texture spray, rough-drying upside down. Ended up just teasing it a bit at the crown and flipping it to one side. Far from perfect, but it had volume? Kinda?
Putting It Together & The Reality Check
Finally got dressed: high-waist jeans, soft white tee, shrugged on the linen blazer, shoved arms through. Rolled the blazer sleeves up messily. Clasped the gold bracelet, jammed the hoops in. Looked in the mirror and immediately felt awkward. The jeans felt higher than usual. The blazer felt huge. Felt like I was dressing up.
Tried standing differently. Leaned back against the door frame. Hands in pockets. Pushed my hair back. Squinted a bit. That felt better. Less stiff. Kept practicing in the mirror: shoulders back, hip popped out. Needed to OWN the volume of the blazer and the flare of the jeans.
Taking It Outside
Okay, decided to actually go somewhere. Needed coffee, so walked down to my local spot. Got a few looks. Not bad looks, just… looks. Noticed an older lady checking me out while I waited in line. She smiled and said, “Love the jacket, darling.” That one comment? Made it worth it. Walking felt different – the jeans moved, the blazer flapped open. Wore my oldest sneakers – no heels needed, just comfortable cool.
Wrapping My Head Around It
Sitting here now with my coffee (black, obviously, feels Seymour-ish?), this is what hit me hard:
- THIS is what we’re missing: All the “effortless” stuff now? It feels way too calculated. The Seymour vibe wasn’t about being perfect. It was about that lived-in, slightly undone feeling. Jeans weren’t distressed by design, they were distressed by life. Clothes looked broken-in and loved.
- Less Skin, More Attitude: Compared to stuff you see everywhere now? The 90s supermodel look actually covered up. Tees were worn under jackets, jeans were high. The power came from confidence and the strength of the silhouette, not from showing skin. Felt strangely powerful, actually.
- Fake It ‘Til You Feel It: The clothes are 50%. The other 50% is standing like you deserve to be there, even if you don’t feel it yet. That lean, the direct look. Seymour always looked like she owned the room without saying a word.
- The Power Piece: That linen blazer? It was the glue. Threw it over the simple tee and jeans, and suddenly it looked like a look, not just thrown-on basics. Foundational piece.
So yeah, did I magically become Stephanie Seymour? Nope. Not even close. My hair was a lost cause, and people probably thought I was cosplaying. But damn, it was fun trying. Felt different. Stronger somehow? Gonna raid that closet again later.