044: Window Shopping at La Garçonne

In search of an escape, I left with a dose of reality.

Photographed by Christopher Bisagni for Vogue France

Whenever my husband and I go to a shop, I do something that drives him crazy. He calls it looking at something, loving something, and never buying anything. My therapist calls it, not allowing yourself to have nice things. I call it Window Shopping!

On a recent sunny but blustery Sunday, after a few months of not having been, I did a spot of Window Shopping at La Garçonne. If you were on Tumblr during the 2010s and were remotely interested in fashion, you are, no doubt, familiar with La Garçonne. Founded in 2005 by Kris Kim, the online store had the lot of us posting images from a look-book for a new season or from an expertly-styled product listing. La Garçonne is how I learned about brands such as Margaret Howell, Dušan, and Sofie D’Hoore. It didn’t matter that they never strayed far from their palette of neutrals, because it was done in a way that was never trendy or banal, stocking brands that dealt in unconventional styles and of high quality.

Walking into the store, on a modest rack by the entrance, hung a handful of pieces by Simone Rocha. The very first item on the rack was a nondescript white slip dress, save for Rocha’s signature lace hem. Beyond that there were two cardigans in grey and pink, a t-shirt, a red ruffle cotton top, and a delectable semi-sheer black cloqué dress, a few pairs of shoes on the ground. Those were more or less the offerings from the Irish designer. A cursory glance at the slip would have led me right past the rest of it.

The most prominent display in the store features a staggering number of clothes from The Row. For several years I really appreciated the work being put out by the brand, but my interest in The Row began to wane when it seemed that they had settled into being comfortable with taking ideas from elsewhere, particularly from their own extensive archival closets without credit, and putting minimally-designed massive price tags on them. A lot of well-off white women love it, and that’s great! At this present moment, it’s just not my cup of tea.

A long way past a lot of tasteful clothes, I was met with the shock of a lime green skirt, but before I even realized I had arrived at Dries, it was over. If aesthetics are being given precedence over craft, this makes total sense, as Dries Van Noten’s spring collection is humming with color, prints, and embellishments, and after so much neutral neutrality, would look totally incongruous next to the vast selection of The Row. A gorgeous gunmetal skirt with pockets and a gathered waist by Ter et Bantine made my pulse quicken briefly, and across the store I had better luck: Sacai’s denim spoof of Chanel’s tweed jacket, and pieces by Junya Watanabe and Comme des Garçons. Has anyone else noticed how the great Japanese designers are grouped together in stores? They’re the perennial north stars of retail: that’s where most exciting designs are bound to be.

Before entering the adjoining room, although calling it a room is an understatement, I spied a rack, concealed by a pillar on one side and blocked off with a display table, that contained a few frothy frocks and dashes of color. I thought the lack of access to it deliberate, perhaps dressing room spoils that hadn’t returned to the floor yet, and I squeezed through to investigate, to find a handful of voluminous Cecilie Bahsen dresses. To my surprise, I also bumped into two beautiful printed scarf bags from Dries Van Noten. In the next room, the wall of shoes, where I have a distinct memory of manhandling several pairs of shoes there not even a year ago. Now it displayed a vast selection of beige suede shoes by a handful of designers, one indistinguishable from the other. There were also several pairs by The Row, including flip flops that have a high likelihood of coming apart at the toe post at the very first stumble over an uneven New York City sidewalk, retailing for $690 plus tax.

When it comes to conventional menswear, there are really only two ways it can go: either really bad, or really good. The menswear at La Garçonne falls in the latter camp, and I found a lot of it more thrilling than the womenswear. A few pieces I thrusted under my husband’s nose to which he nodded at, humoring, included two coats by Dries Van Noten, one in a grey herringbone with a crinkle texture and the other a shiny khaki mac, a spongy Sacai sweatshirt, an Homme Plisse Issey Miyake button-front shirt and a pair of trousers (does it make any sense that I own one and he doesn’t?), and not nearly enough Lemaire.

The sale section, one of the more exciting corners, had several pieces that elicited a few gasps such as a happy yellow padded skirt by Ter et Bantine printed with contrasting blue cornflowers and a reversible Sofie D’Hoore car coat of navy velvet and smooth padded black, sleeves falling just past the elbow. That coat was possibly one of the most beautiful pieces in La Garconne’s inventory. Along the opposite wall, lord have mercy, were more pieces from The Row and its step-sister, Toteme. Sandwiched between the two inescapable brands were a selection by the Japanese brand Auralee, including a terrific red wool canvas jacket with a dark brown leather collar, a very polished version of the beloved Barbour. But what really caught my attention was the most meticulous seams and stitching, an anomaly in an industry that has all but abandoned the notion of craftsmanship. I can only imagine the painstaking attention to detail that went into its construction.

Rest easy, the tour is almost over. As I tried to approach the last of the store’s offerings, voluminous skirts and smart relaxed trousers in silk-soft cotton by the brands Apuntob and Casey Casey, designed and made in Italy and France respectively, two women in pre or post-pilates black leggings and white ribbed, consumed in their chatter, blocked off access to the rack. A polite “excuse me” and a futile attempt at reaching out to feel for a skirt warranted no acknowledgement of my existence, and so I had no other choice than to unrepentantly nudge them out of the way. I’m glad that I did, because directly behind them hung several pieces from dosa in brilliant shades of vermillion. My favourites were a sleeveless dressed that referenced Anarkalis, an elegant mid-calf length skirt (the best length for skirts) with a ruffled hem, and a Cheongsam-inspired organza top. I was dangerously close to helping myself to a pair of habotai trousers, had it not been for the exercisers who had irritated me so.

What makes for a satisfying multi-brand brick and mortar retail experience? In New York City, so few have survived. A really satisfying experience is one that strikes a balance between commerce and culture. Shopping in and of itself is starkly transactional in its nature; the romance lies in the world the retailer constructs. If the store isn’t a behemoth such as Saks or Neiman Marcus, there’s more room for touches of the owner’s own personality, quirks, and interests. It creates the intimate illusion of being in the owner’s salon, or for the more gutsy, their funhouse. The opportunities for shopping in person in this city have been rapidly evaporating; for those still inclined to wander in or resolutely enter a store like La Garçonne, there is a hope of fantasy and escapism, but also of discovery: encountering a great new brand, feeling the fabric of a garment (the best part about shopping in person).

There are great clothes and accessories at La Garçonne, that’s for certain, but they’ve been muted and cast aside in favor of the aesthetics of Quiet Luxury. For those who may not have the patience to wait it out beyond first impressions, the store now reads like a downtown outpost for The Row. Rich Americans love The Row and it sells, and this is reason alone to stock them. Dover Street Market in Murray Hill, for example, also carries The Row, but instead of giving themselves a Quiet Luxury facelift, they challenge customers to think about the brand not so singularly. Perhaps you could pair your black Lars loafer with a waterproof blue floral skirt by Bless, and a jacket made of trouser waistbands from Hodakova. A great store activates one’s imagination. This time around at La Garçonne, I was bored.

The majority of designers who presented collections during New York Fashion Week for Fall 2025 were not received favorably by reviewers. They leaned heavily on Quiet Luxury, and instead of attempting at all to challenge the status quo, they chose to pander to the centre and silent. I maintain that the trend is an aesthetic reestablishing of white supremacy in the fashion industry. Much of it was apathetic and banal, not hopeful and invigorating. Walking through La Garçonne, I had a sinking feeling that the store too had surrendered its unique identity for something more comfortable and complacent. More interesting and complex items are sort of hidden away. I walked into La Garçonne with the privilege of anticipating a brief escape from mounting daily terrors, and left feeling slightly more rattled by how it reflected the times we are in.