British Vogue - 10.2019

Splitting life between New York and London has

its complications – and none so tricky as nailing the looks,

writes Zadie Smith

I

work in an American university, but in the long academic

holidays I come home, to England. Twice a year – and

for the past 10 years – I’ve stood before an open suitcase

in New York and thought: what do people wear in

London? Or, conversely, if the suitcase is in London: what

do they wear in New York? I always forget, I never get it right.

I’ve turned up on a Tuesday night at a local pub dressed as

you might for a quick pre-dinner cocktail with a girlfriend in

Tribeca. (These are not the same outfits.) I’ve rocked up to

Hampstead Heath for a picnic looking about ready for the

Afropunk festival in Fort Greene. (Also not the same outfits.)

A decade of travelling back and forth can create sartorial

schizophrenia – but you learn a lot, too. For example: it’s

perfectly acceptable, in New York, to put all your tragic mid-

life-crisis energy into outdressing every other parent at Family

Morning, yet in London, this is considered bad form.

(A performance of maternal chaos is preferred.) If you go on

holiday with Londoners, you can take a “capsule wardrobe”,

if you like. No one will ridicule you as you model your various

outfits around a small Cornish town chock-a-block with

screaming toddlers. (Of course, despite what the Sunday style

sections may suggest, no one will pay you any mind, either.)

But if you go on holiday with New Yorkers, any deviation

from denim shorts, white shirt and the plainest possible sandals

will make you look like a try-hard fool. You can’t stand an

hour in line for lobster rolls in a pair of platform espadrilles. GETTY IMAGES; SHUTTERSTOCK

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