“THE UNIFORMS OF 42ND STREET”
Nobody on 42nd Street got dressed by accident. Every outfit is a uniform, and every uniform is a decision about who you are going to be that day.
Story: Ava Swidler
Harper's Bazaar France: Rue des Plaisirs
August 2023
On the walk to work, the clothes you wear are the version of yourself you want the world to see.
I am humbled to announce that this summer I had the honor and privilege of working in an industry famously run on goldfish memory and lacrosse pipelines: finance. And while I could spend this whole piece mocking, I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it. I would also be lying if I said I wasn’t completely infatuated with my commute there. Some of my favorite parts of the summer happened before I even got to my internship; it started on the walk down 42nd Street.
Every morning, I would pass the same cast of characters. Not the same people exactly, as I rarely took the same route twice, but somehow the same archetypes showed up. What caught my attention wasn’t their faces—it was what they were wearing.
Everyone had put on their uniform for the day, and that uniform told me exactly who they were about to be for the next eight hours.
Theo Wenner
Arena HOMME+: Los Angeles / Downtown Finance Bro! Chic Scenes Inside the Gold Mine (Slight Return)
Summer/Autumn 2024
The finance man walked by in his suit, moving like the sidewalk owed him something. The intern, usually meaning me, came behind him, blazer on, sensible flats, and one earbud in, while listening to a podcast so I could survive being called on in a meeting. A few blocks down, the teenager working the coffee shop would tie their apron and hat slightly crooked and already be counting down the minutes until their shift ended (we have all been there). Near the corner, there was almost always a little kid in a princess dress, the one her mum clearly did not want to put on that morning but lost the fight anyway, tulle skirt bouncing all the way to daycare. There was the doorman standing outside in his building uniform, gold buttons and all, holding the door like he was guarding something important (he was). Somewhere close, a construction worker in their vest and hard hat was already covered in dust by 8:00 in the morning, still cracking jokes with their crew. Finally, weaving through all of it was the tourist, fanny pack, selfie stick, and dressed like someone seeing New York for the very first time.
Everyone had picked a costume that morning— whether they realized it or not.
That’s when it hit me; the clothes are not just clothes, they are a decision. Every morning we wake up and choose who we are going to be that day. You put on a suit, you become the banker. You put on scrubs, you become a nurse. You put on an apron, you become the barista. Nobody questions it because the outfit does the talking before you even open your mouth.
Oliver Hadlee Pearch
Louis Vuitton Archlight Heel 2021
November 2021
This summer, Monday through Friday, I was Corporate Ava.
Blazer and flats on, notebook at the ready, and tote bag with my laptop inside.
Just like that I became a slightly more put-together, slightly more serious version of myself. It was still me under there, but the clothes gave me permission to walk a little taller and discuss things that I had always imagined only grownups to.
It doesn't stop at work clothes. You put on gym clothes, and even if just five minutes ago you were lying on the couch, you are now an athlete. You put on pajamas, and your whole body knows it is time to wind down. You put on your new going out top, and you already feel more fun before you even leave the apartment.
The clothes get there first. You catch up to them.
This is what made that walk down 42nd street so special to me. Every person on that sidewalk had picked their uniform for the day, and in doing so, they had picked who they wanted to be for the next several hours. Whether you are the construction worker choosing to show up with that vest that morning or the little girl in the princess dress that decided today that she was royalty, we are all just walking around in the version of ourselves we decided to put on that day, and somehow that is one of the most honest things about being a person.
Eric Chakeen
David Sims’s Supreme Book 2015
That is the beauty of clothing. You get to choose. Nobody is stuck being one version of themselves forever.
You can be Corporate Ava on Monday, and College Ava in September, and Summer Ava the second the weather turns warm.
Clothes are not shallow; they are freedom. They are the easiest way we tell the world who we are trying to be that day, and that should be celebrated instead of overthought.
This chapter of the summer is over now, and “Corporate Ava” is getting packed away for a little while. But, I already know she will be back. And so will all the other uniforms out on 42nd Street, still walking, still choosing, still becoming whoever they decided to be that morning.
I am humbled to announce that this summer I had the honor and privilege of working in an industry famously run on goldfish memory and lacrosse pipelines: finance. And while I could spend this whole piece mocking, I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it. I would also be lying if I said I wasn’t completely infatuated with my commute there. Some of my favorite parts of the summer happened before I even got to my internship; it started on the walk down 42nd Street.
Every morning, I would pass the same cast of characters. Not the same people exactly, as I rarely took the same route twice, but somehow the same archetypes showed up. What caught my attention wasn’t their faces—it was what they were wearing.
Everyone had put on their uniform for the day, and that uniform told me exactly who they were about to be for the next eight hours.
Arena HOMME+: Los Angeles / Downtown Finance Bro! Chic Scenes Inside the Gold Mine (Slight Return)
Summer/Autumn 2024
The finance man walked by in his suit, moving like the sidewalk owed him something. The intern, usually meaning me, came behind him, blazer on, sensible flats, and one earbud in, while listening to a podcast so I could survive being called on in a meeting. A few blocks down, the teenager working the coffee shop would tie their apron and hat slightly crooked and already be counting down the minutes until their shift ended (we have all been there). Near the corner, there was almost always a little kid in a princess dress, the one her mum clearly did not want to put on that morning but lost the fight anyway, tulle skirt bouncing all the way to daycare. There was the doorman standing outside in his building uniform, gold buttons and all, holding the door like he was guarding something important (he was). Somewhere close, a construction worker in their vest and hard hat was already covered in dust by 8:00 in the morning, still cracking jokes with their crew. Finally, weaving through all of it was the tourist, fanny pack, selfie stick, and dressed like someone seeing New York for the very first time.
Everyone had picked a costume that morning— whether they realized it or not.
That’s when it hit me; the clothes are not just clothes, they are a decision. Every morning we wake up and choose who we are going to be that day. You put on a suit, you become the banker. You put on scrubs, you become a nurse. You put on an apron, you become the barista. Nobody questions it because the outfit does the talking before you even open your mouth.
Louis Vuitton Archlight Heel 2021
November 2021
This summer, Monday through Friday, I was Corporate Ava.
Blazer and flats on, notebook at the ready, and tote bag with my laptop inside.
Just like that I became a slightly more put-together, slightly more serious version of myself. It was still me under there, but the clothes gave me permission to walk a little taller and discuss things that I had always imagined only grownups to.
It doesn't stop at work clothes. You put on gym clothes, and even if just five minutes ago you were lying on the couch, you are now an athlete. You put on pajamas, and your whole body knows it is time to wind down. You put on your new going out top, and you already feel more fun before you even leave the apartment.
The clothes get there first. You catch up to them.
This is what made that walk down 42nd street so special to me. Every person on that sidewalk had picked their uniform for the day, and in doing so, they had picked who they wanted to be for the next several hours. Whether you are the construction worker choosing to show up with that vest that morning or the little girl in the princess dress that decided today that she was royalty, we are all just walking around in the version of ourselves we decided to put on that day, and somehow that is one of the most honest things about being a person.
David Sims’s Supreme Book 2015
That is the beauty of clothing. You get to choose. Nobody is stuck being one version of themselves forever.
You can be Corporate Ava on Monday, and College Ava in September, and Summer Ava the second the weather turns warm.
Clothes are not shallow; they are freedom. They are the easiest way we tell the world who we are trying to be that day, and that should be celebrated instead of overthought.
This chapter of the summer is over now, and “Corporate Ava” is getting packed away for a little while. But, I already know she will be back. And so will all the other uniforms out on 42nd Street, still walking, still choosing, still becoming whoever they decided to be that morning.