Last week I was waiting in line at an aggressively hip cafe in Seattle (they serve coffee in ridiculously small handmade ceramic mugs and the baristas wear those adorable messy buns that take forever to create) when the woman behind me started raving about my linen blazer. “No way, is that from Eileen Fisher’s new collection? I’ve been refreshing their site daily waiting for it to go on sale.” I leaned down to theatrically sip my oat milk latte (because you’re just not fashionable enough if you get regular milk in your latte) and proudly said, “Actually, it’s from Target’s Universal Thread line. I got it for thirty-two dollars.” The look of confusion on her face melted into genuine excitement and let me tell you, there’s something so rewarding about witnessing that face people make when they think something you own is outrageously expensive, only to tell them it’s not.
Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’ve spent the past few years building sort of an unhealthy obsession around locating the highest quality versions of what I call “expensive person energy clothes” at the lowest possible price. Not knockoffs.
Ugh, I hate saying that word because I hate buying counterfeit goods for all the ethical reasons everyone knows about and others they don’t. But clothes that give off the same vibe as expensive clothes.
You know what I mean by that.
That “Oh this old thing? I vintage embroidered it myself during quarantine” vibe that certain brands have mastered and charge thousands of dollars for. Easy fodder for that vibe are breezy, effortlessly flattering-but-still-classic-looking shirts.
Pillowy linen shirts in muted or creatively-desaturated colors. Items that skews more wearable art than wardrobe essential but that you can sneak in anywhere because they look expensive AF. I’ve been getting way too much joy out of blowing people’s minds by letting them know that not only can you find clothes that look expensive without actually being expensive, but that I own multiple items that fit that description and I’ll casually let you know about at randomly chosen moments in our acquaintance.
This hobby? Lifestyle? whatever it’s become started a few years ago when I was listening to a torturously boring lecture at some renewable energy conference. Scanning the audience for someone cute to bring back to our hotel room later, I spotted a woman wearing what I thought was the most adorable pair of Madewell culottes I’d ever seen.
When they turned to face me I blurted out, “Oh my god, I love your culottes! Where’d you get them? !” She smiled at me and said, “Thank you! They’re from Uniqlo.
I got them online for twenty-six dollars!” I blinked at her, muttered some bullshit about how they looked great on me too, and went about my busy conference-going life that ironically included no vacations to cabin in remote woods wearing all white. I felt bad about lying to her (kind of). But ever since that moment I’ve had this nagging desire to one up her.
To show her that *I* can find supposedly expensive looking clothes at stupendously low prices. And while I will never know if I succeeded because I haven’t seen that lady since Timothy Porter dressed her in his entirety for our Jane Goodall tribute available-at-your-local-store room, I willOWHICHperson has mastered that whole vibe. I’ve collected quite the list over the years of stores that consistently carry that totally-spent-way-too-much-money-on-this-but-really-didn’t wardrobe.
And now I’m sharing my secrets with you, my dear babies. So let’s get into it. First things first: what makes “expensive clothes” actually worth spending the money on?
For me, it’s mostly the construction of high-end garments. Cloth that doesn’t pill after two washes, natural fibers that wear better with age rather than just aging, seams that don’t split when you look at them wrong. Better fit for proportionally-shaped human bodies with belly rolls and uneven shoulders.
Colors that are more muted, more complex, that actually coordinate with things you already own in your closet. But my God do I love a good white tee. And my budget laughs mockingly at $150 white tees (thank you very much), so I’ve spent years honing my ability to source the best-looking cheap versions of closet staples that actually look expensive.
Target’s Universal Thread collection is quietly impressing me more and more with each season they release. Their linen goods are where it’s at. Last summer I purchased a ridiculously oversized linen button-up in the absolute perfect shade of “I was maybe dip dyed with plants by hippies in a sunny studio apartment” green.
It was so soft, yet retained enough structure to look put together. The fabric had this hand-feel that I’ve come to recognize as “expensive” through years of working retail and watching hundreds of dollars worth of clothing pour effortlessly through my fingers. It wasn’t cheap at $28, but it was less than I’ve spent on some cocktails and has gotten more compliments than things in my closet that were multiples of that price.
Speaking of Uniqlo, they are where I hit up for all of my colorblocked tees and oversized shirts that don’t look like every other damn person in the United States owns the same shirt as you. Their linen/cotton blend is so thick and substantial feeling without being heavy. It’s also where I picked up this gorgeous burnt orange heavy cotton workshirt that I’ve gotten more compliments on than perhaps any other article of clothing I own.
Thirty-four dollars and it looks better now, faded and softened with wear, than it did when I first bought it. H&M is hit or miss for me but their Conscious collection often knocks it out of the park. Ignore 95% of what’s in their store and head straight for the natural fiber section.
Last summer I scored this linen mini dress in the most perfect shade of “I’ve had this in my wardrobe for years and refuse to part with it” gray. It’s that complex sort of gray that’s really more brown but you can’t help but buy every clothing item in that color because it looks like it was worn in just enough to become your favorite. It was fifty-three dollars, which isn’t cheap for H&M but it has definitely earned every penny through its impressive compliment quotient. & Other Stories is a bit pricier than people assume I spend on clothing but still drastically lower than most brands I’m impersonating when I drop these stores’ names.
Their knitwear, in particular, is where it’s at. Huge loafers that still somehow look flattering? Gotchu.
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They also do this whole earthy, slightly muted color scheme thing so well. Lots of mossy greens, dusty oranges, warm oatmeals, faded purples. I own this merino wool cardigan from two seasons ago that I recently spotted at Madewell for three times the price.
It. Was. IDENTICAL.
Everlane is never, ever cheap but they do run sales on everything so keeping an eye on their linen collection is worth your time. They excel at that relaxed, linen-y vibe I can’t get enough of and their knitwear is so hefty and thick that you forget how cheap it actually is to buy their sweaters. Don’t even get me started on how good COS is at this whole vibe we’ve been talking about.
Seriously, their shirts are gonna make you think you accidentally stumbled into an architecture major’s studio apartment. The cotton blends they use for their overshirts are so heavy and substantial and yet, they drape beautifully. The colors they choose for everything are so… intentional?
Subtle? Nobody wants to buy those bright-as-can-be clothes that look like you pulled them off some trendy textile sampler. COS usually opts for muted, earthly tones and tiny-ass plaid and striped prints that I WANT TO LIVE IN.
Nordstrom Rack has gotten way better about their house brands in recent years, particularly Halogen. Their stuff has this effortless, clean-lined simplicity that I love. Last season they had this oversized navy blazer that I wear all the time because it always gets compliments.
The thing about Halogen is that you have to look for clothes with slightly off proportions – jacket with dropped shoulders, longer blazer hemlines, pants that hit right at the hip bone. Little design elements that scream “some actual human thought went into making this” rather than cutting a million straight off the machine. Another brand that’s not cheap but who often has sales is J.Crew.
Their linen shirts are some of the best at achieving that perfect wrinkled-but-I-really-care-about-my-appearance fashionista I’m-going-to-Canada-for-the-weekend vibe. Flannel shirts, particularly in lighter colors, are also a great (androgynous AF) way to achieve that fly-looking-for-less goal I can’t get enough of. Zara is always my go-to for unusual cuts and interesting proportions that actually fit human bodies.
They’ve gotten pricier in the last few years but their garments are still way lower than buying something that looks just as cheap from, say, Abercrombie. My rule with Zara is less is more; pick one interesting piece and stick to basics with the rest of your outfit so you don’t come off AS ART PROJECT. UNIQUELLI is my favorite store for colorblocked basics.
They do this relaxed, worn-in vibe better than anyone and yet everything looks expensive. I’ve yet to find a shirt I didn’t like in their store. Seriously, head to their website right now and pick out something in your size that you would normally be too scared to buy because you worry it’ll look cheap.
Buy it. Trust me. It won’t.
A few notes on what exactly I’m looking for when I want to portray that I spend way more money on clothes than I actually do. Big, oversized linen or heavy cotton shirts. Especially in those weird, faded colors that are trying so hard to be plant-dyed but instead look like your cheap hoe cousin dyed them with Kool-Aid.
Wide leg trousers with actual waistbands and cropped enough that they hit your body at the right spot. Collarless linen jackets. Knitwear with quirky details – exposed seams, funky button placement.
Replace the buttons. It honestly makes all the difference. Nothing screams “I bought this at Target” like cheap ass plastic buttons.
Even Target. Spend an extra two dollars and get yourself a set of wood or horn buttons to elevate any basic shirt you own. Stick to natural fabrics whenever possible.
Sure, there are times when a synthetic-blend shirt is okay (Lookin’ at you, J.Crew.) but shoot for 80% cotton/linen/silk whatever and you’ll be fine.
Side note: one of my favorite fabrics for shirts is actually chambray. It’s this sort of denim-blend fabric that looks and feels way more expensive than it is.
Big oversize chambray shirts are my jam. Notice how expensive brands use more complex, muted colors? Cool grey instead of bright blue.
Warm brown instead of neon yellow. Once you start paying attention to the colors you’ll see it everywhere. And please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t try and pull this look off with trendy clothing.
Until we’re living in some sort of boiled shirt, wide leg trouser utopia where every Tom, Chuck, andHarriet can pull off ethical yarn overs and jeans that don’t look like sh*t, stay basic. Solid colors, simple lines, classic cuts. Leave the oversized puffer vests and your giant Patagonia backpack for Target.
