It was 11: 17 AM on Sunday when I received the text that would change everything. EMERGENCY. GET TO CAFE LEON NOW.
Mia, the friend who sent it, usually reserves ALL CAPS for when someone is actually on fire. So I begrudgingly peeled myself out of bed, where I had been happily scrolling through Paris Fashion Week runway pics and fooling myself into thinking I might shower today, and threw on whatever clean-ish things I could grab. Half an hour and one aggressively rushed subway ride later, I burst into Cafe Leon, frantically scanning the cafe for whomever or whatever had happened to Mia to cause such panic.
There she was, sitting at a corner table nursing an oat milk latte and looking incredible in a black silk slip dress, oversized loafers, and—aKA where I was actually meeting her—for reasons I could not quite comprehend—WHOLE SEQUINED BLAZER. Brunch.
At 11:30 AM.
On a Sunday. “What the actual fuck?” I gasped as I plopped down into the seat across from her, steamrolling over her dress with my drippy sweatpants and extra-large NYU hoodie that I’m pretty sure is still technically mine but also might belong to my boyfriend from two years ago. Mia paused mid-sip, serene as ever. “I needed your style editor opinion on whether something like this would work for daytime,” she said, gesturing to her blazer. “Also I ordered us coffee.” Friends, let this be a lesson to you about what happens when you have fashion editors in your life: Your idea of an emergency will be forever skewed. But I wasn’t mad at her, not really.
Because she looked great. Like, legitimately killed-it great. The sequins sparkled against the morning sunlight filtering through the cafe windows, she’d paired the drama of the blazer with low-key makeup and no-flashy shoes, and somehow she had crossed over to the next level of fashion—the holy grail of day dressing, I’d come to realize—that is making nighttime luxe work for daytime without looking like you either slept too little or too much, or are auditioning for the remake of Real Housewives. “Well?” she coaxed, taking another sip of her latte. “I…it actually works?” I said, picking out of my sweatpants and sitting up straighter. “You look like you could own an art gallery, or like you just told me about the new tech startup you and your girlfriends founded that’s already in its second round of venture capital funding.” She grinned. “Exactly!
Night luxe, but for day.” She gave it a dramatic swoop of her hands. “Henceforth known as ‘Dawn Luxe.’” “I hate your stupid name,” I said, but smiled as she pumped her fist into the air in victory. “BUT YES. TO ALL OF IT.” For the uninitiated, night luxe is basically the aesthetic that has consumed our collective feeds for the past year: velvety nightstands, martini glasses (always filled with exactly one olive), sequins, feathers, satin, really anything that screams after-hours glam and billionaire budgets. Think “ready for the club” but less turning up and more turning down for cocktails with Melissa Rowley where they actually play jazz piano on acoustic instruments.
It’s basically Carolyn Bette-She-Knows-Who meets Studio 54 meets that girl in every Nancy Meyers movie who clearly also owns a vineyard. Point being…it was now headed to breakfast on Sundays. What I will say Mia’s not the first person I’ve spotted doing this day-night crossover trend.
Two days before Mia’s brunch invitation, I was sitting in on a morning meeting with a potential advertiser when the brand’s creative director sauntered into the room wearing black satin pants, a simple white T-shirt, and an old Jimmy Stewart crystal cardigan. It was 9:30 in the morning. On a Tuesday.
But she looked enviably chic, like she had unlocked the secret day-night服饰 that we mere mortal fashion girls had been tragically tossed over. Later that afternoon, I spotted another Manhattanite making the morning commute on the F train, rocking a silver lamé skirt, oversized gray sweater, and battered black-and-white Converse. It shouldn’t have worked—and honestly defied everything I’d been taught growing up about “dressing for the time of day”—but it did.
It looked so damn good, in fact, that I probably would have stopped the train to chat with her if my grocery bag full of ramen noodles hadn’t threatened to spill everywhere. When I got home that night, I found myself thinking of my grandmother, who kept her closet religiously divided into “day clothes” and “evening clothes” sections. Mixing the two?
Inexplicable. To her, wearing a dress or skirt before 6 PM was like going to church in a bathing suit. “There are rules, Harper,” she once told me when I innocently slid into one of her cocktail dresses at noon. “Sequins aren’t breakfast apparel.” But friends: Sequins are officially breakfast apparel. And honestly?
Welcome to the party. Sure, I’m 33—which means I totally get the appeal of those special, glamorous clothes that spend most of their time hanging in your closet because let’s be real: Your life doesn’t exactly lend itself to nightly galas and boozy dinners where everyone wears stunning designer dresses and TOM FORD pantsuits, amirite? Now I’m lucky if I make it out of leggings more than twice a week, and by “making it out of leggings,” I mean still wearing the same leggings I’ve worn every other day since 2015, only with a butt dent from sitting at my desk all day.
But my closet is still home to evidence of a time when I thought otherwise: a beaded vintage jacket I bought from a chic Parisian boutique that was twice the price of my plane ticket to Paris, a silky slip dress with a thigh-split so deep I fear for my underwear that I’ve worn exactly once, to see a magazine launch at 9PM, and a pair of David Bowie-worthy crystal embellished earrings that make me feel like I should be stepping off a yacht in Monte Carlo instead of lining up at Trader Joe’s. Hell, until recently, I’d pretty much written off that last pair as wearable exclusively at night, which made absolutely zero sense when I think about how much I wore that jacket during the day in Paris. But Mia had started a revolution, and I was ready to join her…and if whoever I ran into at Trader Joe’s happened to give me a compliment?
Well, that wouldn’t hurt, either. The next morning, I stood in front of my closet and decided I was ready. I dug out that silky vintage jacket—I’m talking midnight green with black crystals and an Art Deco-esq pattern—and tossed it over my faded Levi’s and white tee.
I threw on some delicate gold hoop earrings and beat-up ankle boots I could run around the city in all day and studied myself in the mirror. I half expected to see myself having a mental breakdown or start scrolling through psychiatric hospitals on Yelp. It worked.
I looked fine! Like myself, but a slightly cooler version of myself. The jeans and tee grounded the whole look and stopped it from feeling like I’d slept too little or too much and was wearing the remains of my outfit from the night before.
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Honestly, it was kind of incredible. Coffee meeting with an editor later that morning, and she’s asking me where I got the jacket (thrifted in Paris!!!) and whether I was “doing that day-to-night thing everyone’s doing on Tik Tok.” Newsflash: Girl, I created that trend fifteen minutes ago. Determined to dig deeper into how best to master day-time night luxe (is that even grammatically correct??
Help me help myself), I spent the better part of two weeks trying on—all of my favorite—night pieces during daylight hours, interviewing stylists and fashion friends, and forcing my boyfriend to take pictures of me in outfits I would have never previously dreamed of wearing pre-Mia-pants text. But here we are. Here I am, armed with the knowledge that yes, you absolutely can—and should—wear your favorite “party” pieces during the day.
So here are my tips and tricks for how to make night luxe work for daytime, and how to avoid looking like you’re on your way to a festival when you’re really just heading to Trader Joe’s. TL;DR? Night luxe is basically wearable art.
And with wearable art comes great responsibility: You have to balance your pieces with more pared-back, casual clothing in order to avoid looking confused. So that beaded blazer? Pair it with old jeans and a basic tee.
Slip dress? Throw a big ol’chunky knit sweater over it and add some sneakers or bulky boots to tone it down and immediately look more “cool girl at an art gallery” vs. “your friend from college who lost her Lyft home from gallery opening.” Keep your color palette in mind, too: Silver looks far more “daytime” paired with crisp white and blue jeans versus black and red. I’ve found myself reaching for warm neutrals (camel, chocolate brown, oatmeal) to pair with most of my sparkly silver-and-black pieces to really give off that I-know-color-theory-and-own-like-eight-cloud-nine-cardigans vibe.
Finally, stick to daytime makeup and hair with your nighttime clothes. This is so important. Trust.
If you’re rocking that sequined top for brunch, keep your makeup minimal and your hair up—think tinted moisturizer and mascara, hair in a bun or natural waves. If you pair fun night clothes with smoky eye shadow and stiff hair, you’ve ruined theillusion. You’ll just look like you don’t know what time of day it is.
Of course, some items lend themselves better to mornings than others. Statement jackets and coats (sequined, crystal-embellished, feather-trimmed) are some of the easiest night-to-day pieces because you can literally wear anything underneath. Silk camisoles and slip dresses layer well under big woolen knits or oversized blazers.
Feather-trimmed ANYTHING is going to be tricky but could work if the rest of your outfit is extremely minimalist (white button-up and jean vest with feather-trimmed slides, maybe?) This might sound weird, but people actually treat you differently when you wear things slightly out of context. Like coffee shop visits when you’re wearing a silky slip dress and combat boots instead of yoga pants and a hoodie. Not in a judge-y way, but almost like they think you know something they don’t.
Or that you’re going somewhere after that soy latte that’s more exciting than your day requires. My favorite encounter came a few weeks ago at my neighborhood bagel shop, where I was wearing an old vintage cocktail dress from the ‘60s I found at Goodwill (black with subtle gold threading) tucked into a thin white turtleneck, beating-up Doc Martens, and my favorite denim jacket. The dude working the counter who has never, in three years of me getting bagels from this place every Saturday morning, noticed what I was wearing looked up at me and said, “Girl, you going somewhere nice today?” “Nope,” I said, though it wasn’t meant to be profound or life-affirming.
It just sort of was. He smiled knowingly. “Cool, yeah, you get extra cream cheese today.” I told Mia all of this later that night, along with my theory that wearing night clothes in the day is really an exercise in optimism. You’re saying to yourself and the world: There is glamour and joy to be had on a random Tuesday when you leave your house wearing a sparkly silk dress and elbow patches, not just during New Years Eve or when you’ve been invited to the Met Gala. “I love that,” Mia said, sipping her morning coffee like she does. “But tbh I probably just didn’t want to wait to wear my new sequined blazer until one of the three events I’ll attend this year.” She has a point.
Maybe part of what’s so great about wearing your sparkly stuff in the daytime is that it forces you to actually wear it! Your special dresses and blazers and pants start to earn their keep in your closet when you know that wearing them for dinner means you won’t be able to wear them come brunch.
Now my beaded jacket from Paris has actually had a use since I bought it…and my crystals have been to Target.
Obviously there are limits. I will probably never wear my floor-length black silk gown to pick up my prenatal vitamins at CVS, though I debated it last Tuesday when my allergies were especially bad. Some things will always be reserved for night-time ONLY, I get that.
But now that I’ve unlocked the secret of wearing sparkles during the day, there’s no going back. So go forth, friends. Break out those sequins, silks, and feathers and wear them proudly during the day.
Live your best (day) life. And let me know if you get free cream cheese. As for me, I’m wearing that silver lamé skirt to a breakfast meeting tomorrow.
I’ll pair it with an oversized gray cashmere sweater and my flats. I’m calling it “business in the top, party on the bottom” and I don’t care what you think.
