I picked up a garment bag that weighed as much as my three-year-old nephew. As I pulled down the zipper, a cascade of pinks and reds, black floral, and tulle popped out at me. These were probably the most expertly crafted pieces of clothing I’d ever touched, let alone worn on my body. I was terrified.
Different sample sizes of the “selects” I made were to be sent to me. When given this information, I nodded enthusiastically, pretending I knew what sample sizing meant. I didn’t.
Not all the pieces fit, and I was suddenly aware that I had to improvise. But was that even allowed? Do people mix and match at a high fashion exhibition? Is it acceptable to add a bag or a bow from my own pedestrian wardrobe to these art pieces? Am I gonna get in trouble with the authorities?
When I was a kid, I had a Build-A-Bear cardboard box where my sister and I used to store all of our dress-up materials, including accessories from my old dance recitals and princess dresses from Halloween. The outfits I put together were ridiculous. But I only cared how the clothes made me feel, and the different imaginative worlds I was transported to by wearing them. Taking a breath, I put on not only a mix-and-match ensemble, but also the uninhibited ego of my seven-year-old self, and headed off to the show.
To my amazement, the identity I chose to inhabit at Wiederhoeft’s fall/winter 2024 runway show turned out to be the perfect accessory to the theatrical wonder all around me.
The models, walking through fog, their pace slow, as if in a dream state, were visions of beautiful corseted humans. It was as if they’d come from time periods from the past and future, all accompanied by the sound of an industrial din. One dress was an alluring optical illusion, where a corset almost blended into the model’s body. Another was giving old Hollywood in its most pure and classic iteration. When a scarlet-clad model wearing a five-foot tulle shawl passed by me, I was clutched by the intrusive thought, What if I accidentally stepped on that gorgeous fabric and sent her flying, ruining the entire show?
I wanted to take out my phone to snap pictures, and then remembered a TikTok comment I’d seen recently that observed how people are always on their phones at fashion shows, missing out on the present moment—and that made me feel conflicted. Then I remembered I was wearing a huge taffeta skirt where I could hide my phone when needed, allowing me the best of both worlds!
Reconnecting to a child-like part of myself—understanding that fashion-forward can actually be fashion-backward, sideways, and all around—is what wearing clothes can and should be. And that’s exactly what happened tonight.
Sabrina Brier is an actor, writer, and comedian who is known for her wildly popular internet content. Follow her on TikTok at @sabrina.cinoman.brier.
