Last Tuesday, I humiliated myself at Bergdorf’s. No, make that seriously humiliated myself at Bergdorf’s. You know, the kind of embarrassed-that-could-fill-out-a-whole-row-on-your-Shame-Charts™ moment when you start to question your name and wonder if maybe you should just disappear to a deserted island where no one can recognize you from your Teen Vogue days.
I was innocently perusing the brand new Proenza Schouler (yes, I work down the Peter sell floor at Bergdorf’s and yes, I get first dibs on PS drops) when the sales associate stopped me. This impossibly cool woman, her hair cut into a platinum pixie with burgundy lips that miraculously never got on her teeth even though she talked constantly, looked down at my ensemble and deadpanned, “Oh honey, you have that on wrong.” Immediately I thought my dress was inside out. Which, OK, probably was true but hadn’t been when I left home.
She was, however, gesturing toward my belt. My relatively plain jane leather belt that I’ve owned since college and wore almost weekly because, again: brown leather belt.
Who would know you had it “on wrong?” “You have your belt upside down,” she said kindly but with that unmistakable New York retail superiority that makes you feel like every decision you’ve ever made in life was incorrect. “See how it makes a little swoop?
You want that to swoop down with your waist.” Um. What?? I’m a fashion editor!
I’ve interviewed Marc Jacobs!! I once held Anna Wintour’s Starbucks at an event (“Unexpected bond between MJ and Anna Wintour” was The Edit story of the day thanks to my latte-wielding skills). I literally get paid to think and write about clothing!
And I’ve been wearing my belt wrong this whole time? Since WHEN? “Everyone does that,” she so generously informed me. She was clearly becoming fond of her role as Belt Gatekeeper of Bergdorf’s’s Fifth Floor. “But if you wear it with the swoop going down your body, it lays flush against you and doesn’t stick out at the top like that.” She reached over and rotated my belt so that the curve went down. “There you go, sweetie.” And there I stood, between a $3,900 coat and a small army of McQueens clutch bags that will one day be confiscated from my newly mildewed apartment when I’m gone, with a middle-aged saleswoman at Bergdorf’s adjusting my belt like a college freshman who didn’t know how to put her own pants on.
The worst part? She was right. My belt did look better that way.
And so began my descent into belt hole madness. Obsessed with how I had been wearing my belt, I proceeded to rip every single one out of my closet to inspect them for the telltale bulge of a backwards belt buckle. She was right.
All sixteen of my other belts had the same tiny curve and I had been wearing them backwards since…college? High school? WHEN DID I START CARING ENOUGH ABOUT HOW MY BELT LOOKED TO BUY BETTY BLUMBERG?? ?
I couldn’t stop there, obviously. If there was one thing wrong with how I wore my accessories what else had I been doing wrong my whole life? I texted all of my closest friends immediately to find out if they knew about the belt business.
No one did! Even Tyler, my former college roommate who is now an accessories designer FOR CHRIST’S SAKE DID NOT KNOW. He texted me back a bunch of crying emojis and “MY LIFE IS LIIIIIIIIIE.” Now don’t get me wrong – I love a good “you’re using this thing wrong” story as much as the next Millennial thirsty for dopamine hits on social media.
I spent the next three days engulfed in Wikipedia wormholes and How-To Wiki forums for seemingly every day item under the sun, waking up only to eat, pee, and yes – gift-buy at Barneys. We are literally doing everything wrong, people. Don’t even get me started on white button down shirts.
You know those little loops at the back? Buttons actually used to loop through those so shirt makers could include two options for how you wear it (still with me philistine?) when there weren’t any closet hangers to hang them on in locker rooms and the like. But today, that handy little loop is great for threading your headphone cord through so it doesn’t get caught when you’re jogging.
Look at me, one belt lesson away from innovating the headphone game. I wore my North Face workout hoodie proudly yesterday during spin until I tried to adjust my headphones and they came loose. Rip cord!
You Might Also Like
Those stupid little pockets on the inside of your jeans pockets weren’t there so you could store $5 in quarters like I thought they were. They’re called watch pockets, designed in the 18th century to help men store their pocket watches safely while they rode horses or did other inherently masculine activities. Today, they’re the perfect size to store your AirPods so they don’t fall out of your pocket but are easy to grab should you decide to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album while sewing the couch cushion you just ripped on your living room floor.
Double rip! The list goes on. Those dangly little shoulders on your coat hangers?
Folded in on one side so they can fit through skinny straps or sleeves. The extra hole at the top of your Converse? It’s not there just to mock you when your shoes start to feel too tight… it’s meant to create a “heel lock” when properly laced to prevent chafing.
And that little metal button above your jeans zipper? Called a rivet, it’s meant to reinforce the front seams so they don’t tear with repeated stress. WHICH IS WHY IT GETS SNAP LOCKED IN MY CLOSET DOOR EVERY TIME I WEAR THESE JEANS.
Thank you for ruining my life even more, randomly placed jean rivets! My favorite has to be about scarves. I live in scarves for nine months out of the year thanks to NYC winters that linger far past any reasonable time frame and a fictitious season we like to call “spring.” Well, it turns out the label on your scarf isn’t supposed to be plastered across your neck when you fold it diagonally in half – no, it should line up with the base of your neck so the rest of the scarf hangs open and even.
Noooooobody told me that before and now I’ve been rudely accosting my throat with scraps of Italian wool every winter since I was old enough to care about fashion. Back to belts. Turns out when you wear your belt “correctly” – curve aligned and flush with your waist – it DOES make a difference.
With thicker, high-waisted pants especially, you can really see how a belt will pooch out at the top if you wear it backward because it doesn’t lay flush against your body all the way around. What’s more, the holes are usually spaced to fit the curve of the belt up – so when you wear it backwards, you’re probably not even using the right hole for your actual waist size. Which explains why my belt would always either be too tight or too loose before I made this life changing discovery!
Much like leaving your hospital gown open in the back rather than securely tied like my mother clearly taught me, wearing your belt backwards is a surefire way to let other people know you have no idea what you’re doing. Margot filled me in on all the other subtle nuances that announce “amateur” to the seasoned fashionista and I’m sorry to say but I’ll never dress in public the same way again. “It’s like people who wear their coats with the little X- stitch still on at the bottom of the vent,” Margot texts me today. “Or guys who leave the label hanging out of their suit sleeve cuff. Everyone knows.” 👹 What else have I been doing wrong?!?
Is my whole life flashing before my eyes right now as I question every.Single.Fashion.Choice I’ve ever made?! Will people look at me on the street and think, “UGHHH THAT GIRL HAS NO IDEA HOW TO MATCH SOCKS TO PANTS”? NEWSFLASH: I ALWAYS WEAR DIFFERENT SOCKS.
My point is – we are ALL doing literally everyTHING wrong. Pants buttons might go one direction based on “tightness” but are they supposed to be buttoned top to bottom or bottom to top? WHY DOES MY PHONE HAVE TWO DIFFERENT DIAGNOSTIC TESTS FOR WHEN THE BUTTONS ARE WORKING PROPERLY?? ?
But hey, it’s not all bad!
There’s something kind of wonderful about knowing how certain everyday items were intended to be worn. Food toastiers?
Top down, guys. Leggings? According to my Google search, they were “originally” made to be worn tighter than your skin but we’ll never know for sure since Lululemon basically made stretchy pants a thing.
And honestly, learning how to correctly wear your belt has made me feel better about my pants choices every single day. Which is good, because I may have purchased four more belts the day I found out I had been wearing them incorrectly. Adulting!!!
I am the picture of correctness over here. And if you catch me wearing my belt backwards from now on, please assume it’s because I’m making a fashion statement and not because I forgot about its very existence minutes after leaving the Bergdorf’s floor. Please.
Just take Ballerina Baby’s word that yes, even fashion can be broken and bent to our will sometimes.
