The Fashion Aesthetics Defining Cities Around The World

The world’s never felt more connected. Fashion month might still center on New York, London, Milan, and Paris, but global trends are being set in cities like Copenhagen, Shanghai, Seoul, and Sydney. The biggest luxury houses have staged runways in Rio de Janeiro, Dakar, and Los Angeles. Some of the buzziest designers working right now — from Campillo and Diotima to Gaurav Gupta and Phan Huy — put down roots in Mexico, Jamaica, India, and Vietnam.

With fashion having direct access to the people on the ground pretty much anywhere in the world, style stereotypes long associated with certain cities are thrown out the window. “We might have a perception of Milanese style or French style, but we don’t live there, right? Real French people I know are like, ‘There’s not one look. We’re a diverse fashion community, like everybody else,” New York-based fashion director at Saks Global and street style star Chloe King says.

When she started traveling to Copenhagen for work, for example, King thought the style would fall into one of two categories: super minimal or typical Ganni girl, with her unabashedly clashing prints. The reality, she soon realized, was a little more nuanced: “There were girls who came up to me and were like, ‘Oh, my God, it’s so nice to see color. I love color.’ There are micro communities everywhere, too. Sometimes, that’s a calling card for connection.”

In an increasingly globalized landscape, those long-held stereotypes about fashion tied to specific places (think “Parisian style” or “uptown-versus-downtown” NYC dressing) have eroded. Our understanding of how people dress in corners of the world we may not ever get to visit continues to grow and expand. There are some sartorial truisms that locals concede still serve as a bedrock for their wardrobes — and those might feel more universal than you expect.

This is but the tiniest sliver, speaking to women in just seven cities across two continents, but it offers a peek at the ways different fashion hubs express the realities of their lives through what they wear.

New York’s Pragmatism

King moved to New York City a few years after college, after a short postgrad stint in sports marketing, to pursue a career in fashion. Growing up in Boston, she would come into the city often, especially once her sister started working in the theater industry. Those visits solidified for her that NYC “was a place for real self-expression.”

“I’ve always cared about fashion, but I felt like I could really try on new things quite literally but also figuratively,” she says. “It’s such a dense city, and it’s so pressurized, but at the same time, nobody’s looking at you. You can literally be crying on the subway, and nobody’s going to say anything.”

That affords its residents a freedom of expression through fashion, and also exposes them to countless ideas and sources of inspiration every time they step out the door. There are two throughlines, though, that connect the wide range of aesthetics you might see throughout the five boroughs.

“One is pragmatism,” King argues. “It’s tough just getting through your day, so I really don’t think there’s that precious quality.” You might always have a sturdy shoe (“because you’re going to have to walk”) or a more athletic-leaning piece (like a parka or a baseball cap) that grounds an outfit. “On the other hand,” she continues, “living in New York is also a performance… It feels like everyone is really dialed up in who they are.”

Amy Smilovic, author, designer, and founder of Tibi, has been in New York since the early ’90s, and firmly believes that your environment is the biggest determinator of style. (She has a whole guide on which colors to pack according to which city you’re traveling to.) Then, there’s your interpretation of where you are and how you present yourself in that context.

“I was born in the Midwest, raised in the South, moved to Asia, married an Eastern European, and work in New York every day,” Smilovic explains. “Everyone comes from so many different areas. All of that randomness and diversity is the epitome of a New York way of thinking.”

If there’s one item that, to Smilovic, embodies New York style, though, it’s a blazer. (Tibi’s Liam Blazer, specifically.) “There's something about this city that makes you wanna throw a blazer on,” she says. “A lot of people came to New York with ideas of who they were going to be when they’re working, of them just being this total boss in the office. If you’re younger, the blazer embodies who you want to be; when you’re older, it’s your second skin.”

L.A.’s Ease

L.A. has been a source of fascination and inspiration since the golden age of Hollywood. Its image has been largely shaped by fashion, from the work of the legendary costume houses outfitting iconic characters to the collaborations between designers and their A-list muses (Audrey Hepburn and Hubert de Givenchy; Cher and Bob Mackie). And it remains a reference for designers and individuals alike: Jonathan Anderson’s first Cruise collection for Dior, staged at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) in May, brought his love of old Hollywood and the maison’s longstanding relationship with its biggest stars to present-day on the runway.

Born-and-raised Angelino Meeka Hossain says that the entertainment business’ deep roots in the city lend a cinematic quality to the way people dress: “Clothes express a lot of storytelling — where you grew up, how you grew up, what you do.” (Hossain, for her part, always comes back to Sharon Stone’s sharp, tailored suiting in Basic Instinct as the blueprint.)

On the other hand, L.A.’s climate and culture — “being by the beach, always having good weather” — invite an overall sense of ease, particularly when it comes to what people wear, Hossain argues. In her mind, the prototypical L.A. outfit comes down to jeans and a light knit. “I have so much denim, and all I want to do is buy denim,” she admits.

Surely the dawn of tabloid culture and reality TV shows like Laguna Beach helped export this uniform concept in the aughts. But there’s also a deep history there, given the city’s position as a hub for denim manufacturing in the United States. It’s still home to many of fashion’s favorite jean purveyors. However, it’s not a one-piece-fits-all situation: The preferred silhouette varies by neighborhood.

“[The Eastside] is definitely more adventurous — your oversized, acid-wash, ripped jeans,” Hossain explains. “A West Hollywood girl is tailored — maybe some trousers, some nice-fitted denim, no holes. Venice is boho-chic, so a good pair of loose jeans, but also still expensive, because it’s Venice.”

Since the city is famously spread out, each pocket has its own distinct style. “In Silver Lake, the girls are thrifting, and you're seeing vintage, oversized denim,” she says. “You go to Melrose, and it’s polished. You go from Khaite to Toteme to Staud to Sporty & Rich.” Then, there’s the citywide wellness culture, which means you see activewear across town.

“It’s just become cool to be yourself here,” Hossain adds. “You’re noticing the simplicity of a wardrobe… That’s attracted a lot of people, and you see that in how celebrities are dressing and how influencers are dressing. There’s something cool about just being yourself in your wardrobe. I think L.A. does a good job at that.”

London’s Eclecticism

In the fashion industry, London has historically been viewed as the hotbed for what’s next. So many of the emerging names people line up to rally behind come out of its prestigious fashion schools, which are known for encouraging and nurturing boundary-pushing creativity among their cohorts — an approach that feels very much in line with the punk-rock spirit of the city and lives on in its vintage scene.

Orlagh McCloskey, co-founder and creative director of Rixo, was a student when she moved to London from Derry, Ireland, and was immediately taken by the secondhand shops. “The things would actually be quite specific to the ’70s, that really made London what it was,” she says. There’s an eclecticness and boldness to the clothes you might find that not only sets these assortments apart from what you’d find in other cities, but also encourages experimentation, McCloskey explains. That, paired with the heyday of the British high street — Topshop, Miss Selfridge, Next — allowed her to play around and find her footing with fashion as a student.

“People could be really resourceful in how they would wear things that weren’t necessarily slapped-on brand names,” she says. “True British style was more about the personal eclecticness of an outfit.”

You see that in some of the city’s most beloved fashion figures — the Kate Mosses, Sienna Millers, Lily Allens, who “have their own personal taste and it doesn’t really change over the years,” McCloskey argues. “Kate Moss has dressed like Kate Moss since Day One. They don’t really change who they are. They’ll take the bits that make them them.”

There are a handful of pieces, though, that feel foundational to London style: a trench coat, a pair of Chelsea boots, an animal print. Londoners don’t shy away from patterns, McCloskey says — she’s seen that among Rixo customers.

“In the U.K., they gravitate towards really bright, emotional prints,” she notes. “The U.K. customer loves a dress. They’re not afraid to get dressed up and be feminine. They don’t just always live in jeans and a top.”

Milan’s Sophistication

Margherita Maccapani Missoni has a very unique perspective on Milanese style, having grown up surrounded by one of Italy’s most renowned and recognizable fashion empires. One of her most distinct early memories, though, was one of sartorial rebellion.

“I remember I had this urge [to go] classic and formal, because Missoni was very hippie and soft,” she says. When she was around 7 or 8 years old, she asked her grandmother (not Missoni co-founder Rosita, she clarifies) to take her into the city to go shopping at Bonpoint for a black satin skirt suit — the opposite of the colorful printed jersey pieces that made her family famous. To Maccapani, though, it was distinctly Milanese.

“People in Milan dress,” she emphasizes, “both men and women. It’s a tailoring city.”

This is something Tamu McPherson picked up on quickly when she first moved to Milan from the United States in 2005. It felt very formal and familial — “mothers passing down style to their daughters, the same with men and their sons.” Three things stuck out to the All the Pretty Birds founder early on: Italians know how to mix and match, they’re very well pulled-together (“if you’re going to have that print dress, you’re definitely going to have a cashmere jumper to layer over it that goes with it”), and they have an item for every single occasion (especially when it comes to outerwear).

According to Maccapani, a typical Milanese outfit might involve a “good, rich, nice cardigan” with a pencil skirt and a thin kitten heel. Silhouettes have gotten more relaxed over time, so you might swap in the top for a slouchier knit, the bottom for a barrel pant, and the heels for ballerina flats or sneakers. McPherson calls out how no one does a white trouser like the Milanese: “I love how Italians wear white jeans in the winter. It’s extremely chic.”

Maccapani describes Milanese style as “always elegant,” while still colorful. “Classic Milanese women can go bold with color and fabrics and silks and rich materials,” she says. She compares it to the city’s architecture: “It’s quite shy from outside, then you go inside and there’s a beautiful garden with cloisters. There’s always that duality. Milanese don’t like to show off or give away at first.”

“There’s this energy in Milan where it’s very smooth,” McPherson adds. “Even [when it’s] colorful, there’s a smoothness to it.”

Paris’ Consideration

For Loulou de Saison’s Chloé Harrouche, Paris is core not just to her work, but who she is. “I’m a Parisian, born and raised,” she says. “I love to travel, and I’m so lucky that I can travel very often, but it’s always very important to come back to Paris.”

What makes Paris so special, Harrouche argues, is that it’s a city of contrasts — “the noise, the density, the beautiful history, the architecture, the cobblestone. It’s all about the details, the little finishings.” That’s what she tries to tap into when designing for Loulou de Saison, the brand she founded in 2019: The clothes aren’t meant to be complicated, but rather something you can reach for every day to go about your life, from work to dinner to wherever else.

“When you wear Loulou de Saison, there’s something about the material and about the fit, you feel immediately different,” she says. “Everybody does ‘effortless luxury’ now, but it’s not about [being] effortless — it’s the opposite.”

This is something King picked up on when she worked at The Webster, among a majority-French team. “There’s this very rich interior life,” she says. “It doesn’t have to be, like, for me, the performance of New York — those are on different ends of the spectrum. Like, ‘I don't really need to explain myself. I can keep things toned down.’ It doesn’t have to be so gritty or raw or at the surface, which is something that feels New York to me.”

Parisian style, Harrouche continues, is about considering every single element that goes into a design in order to achieve balance. It’s not so much about the specific pieces hanging in your closet, but rather how they’re cut, how they’re made, and how long they’ll last. “It’s a silhouette,” she says, “a way of thinking.”

Proportion is key — think pairing a slightly oversized trench coat with a borrowed-from-the-boys feel with fitted-to-you denim. “She has to be more comfortable, and that comfort gives you elegance in the movement,” she says. Even still, one never compromises the other; the key lies in finding that balance and making space for both.

Copenhagen’s Vibrancy

If you follow Copenhagen Fashion Week street style, you’ve seen Imane Asry. The Morocco-born, Sweden-raised, now Denmark-based creator is a seasoned, often-photographed showgoer.

“It’s such a vibrant city,” she says, and quite different sartorially from Stockholm, where she grew up. “Stockholm style is definitely more planned, structured, and very put-together. Scandi style, at its core, is quite neutral and minimal, but the Scandi Stockholm style is more posh. The color scheme is neutral — like black, white, gray, and beige — whereas the Copenhagen style has that neutral base, but then you add on the elements. It’s cooler and more laid-back.”

People in the Danish capital, she continues, aren’t as precious about tailored fits as they might be in her hometown. “It’s OK if it’s a little bit too short, a bit too long,” she says. “You see a lot of people wearing oversized clothes.” (Pants especially, she adds.) The way people dress is also highly influenced by the preferred mode of transportation in Copenhagen: biking. (“You can tell that one pant leg is folded up or tucked into a boot, or you see elastics around the ankle.”)

Fashion week naturally brings out a more exaggerated, curated version of Danish style, Asry notes. But you can still spot certain elements that are just as prevalent in the off-season. “You see prints and colors a lot here, but if someone is wearing a bright pink sweatshirt or knit [outside of fashion week], they might be wearing an olive or khaki cargo pant with it,” she explains. Plus, Copenhagen’s love of voluminous outerwear, knit scarves, and hair clips is year-round.

Asry admits she still identifies more with Stockholm’s flavor of Scandi style, but after five years, she’s seen her wardrobe get a little bit more Copenhagen. For one, she wears color now: “Usually, I’ll do my socks, a small detail. Wearing a whole shirt, that’s a stretch for me.” Asry has also embraced the biking lifestyle, so that’s now a consideration when shopping for bottoms and layers. “One thing I really liked last summer, which I will be continuing this summer, is the balloon pant,” she says. “It’s really handy. You get the volume, but it’s gathered around your ankle.”

Another styling move you’ll spot across the city? “People still wear boots during summer here. You could easily see someone wearing a mini skirt or Adidas pants with cowboy boots,” she says. “It’s very Copenhagen.”

Madrid’s Boldness

No matter where in the world she is, Beatriz de los Mozos can clock a Spaniard on the street based solely on how they’re dressed.

“We’re very playful with fabrics and colors,” she says. “For some reason, we have a natural connection with color. We’re happy to combine and mix it up.”

The Flabelus founder explains that, in Madrid, an outfit will still feel pretty classic, but it will always convey a level of effort — think a pair of jeans or trousers with a bold, patterned top and a strong, tailored jacket. (Her footwear brand is another great example of this, with how it takes the traditional Spanish espadrille and modernizes it through color and texture.) People “choose what they’re going to wear well,” she says. “It’s not effortlessly easy. It’s classic elegance.” In other words: What someone in another city might consider overdressed would be just another Tuesday in Madrid.

This love for dressing up goes back generations, she adds: “You see the grandmothers, and they’re naturally elegant. They still go out when they’re 80, 90 years old, and you see them sitting in the various stylish cafes wearing these amazing suits. They really put effort into their style, and they transmitted that to their daughters and granddaughters.”

There are also certain design flourishes de los Mozos considers very typical. The Spanish love volume, for one, especially in their sleeves. They’re also drawn to lace-up ties, ruffles, fringe, stripes, and polka dots, especially as a way to make a classic piece feel distinct.

“In Spain, we tend to choose clothes that are unique, regardless of price,” she says. “It has to have something special, something different — a pleat, embroidery, shape.” She points to brands like MarÀvic, Maria de la Orden, and Coosy as embodying this approach.

That boldness has only been strengthened as Madrid becomes more international, with people from other parts of Europe and Latin America relocating there. “People are risking it more,” de los Mozos argues. “Instead of a uniform, they go for different looks depending on the day. They change the way they dress. The girl who would go with the blazer and trousers from work to dinner would wear yellow trousers and a bright orange top on the weekend, and she would feel exactly as cool.”