Saying that fashion and music influence each other feels almost as obvious as saying that the sky is blue. Analyzing the intersection between fashion and music is not a new concept. Just last week, I wrote about pop singer Sabrina Carpenter’s on-stage style, which further inspired me to become a fan of hers. Countless others have written articles and full-length novels regarding the intersection of the two mediums: Clothing and singing/songwriting.
While we acknowledge the connection between music and fashion I think we fail to properly categorize it. It’s easy to see how fashion has influenced music, particularly since the rise of pop music in the 1950s. Style has since been integral to branding and creating an image in the genre. This enabled certain artists to soar while others lagged behind. Where would über-famous artists like Elvis and The Beatles be without their iconic outfits and hairdos?
That’s not to say their talent would not have carried them far. After all, the music of both Elvis and The Beatles remains popular to this day, and it seems like there’s a new film being made about Elvis every year. Still, the intrigue of The Beatles’ mop-style haircuts and Elvis’ tight pants drew in people’s attention — and the catchy tunes and organic vocals kept it there.
The relationship between fashion and music is way more similar to one of mutualism: a relationship in which each component has a positive impact on the other.
Just as fashion influences music, music influences fashion. This goes for both artists and fans alike — and it’s something I witness all the time in my own style. On days when I’m not sure what to wear, I rely on my playlists to inspire me to pick out an outfit. This is a habit I picked up in high school and it has continued to help me on days when it seems like I have nothing to wear.
I made my favorite playlist years ago, and it has grown to be 13 hours and 18 minutes of pure fashion inspiration. Titled “covering joni and dancing with joan,” — a reference to a Lana Del Rey lyric that alludes to the music of Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez. My hours-long playlist features all sorts of pop and rock from the mid-1960s through the late 1970s.
Many of my most frequently listened to songs on the playlist are by Crosby, Stills and Nash. Their poetic lyrics and enchanting harmonies make me feel like I, too, am rocking out at Woodstock.
On days when songs like “Southern Cross” and “Helplessly Hoping” are stuck in my head, I tend to gravitate towards flowy outfits with funky patterns. Even if my outfit isn’t made up of true vintage pieces, I opt for loose silhouettes and a fun mix-and-match of textures.
Simon and Garfunkel also dominate my playlist, but the outfits they inspire me to wear are a bit different. Although Simon and Garfunkel are far from beatniks themselves, something about the existentialism of their lyrics and crisp diction that is reminiscent of jazz percussion leads me to clean, sleek lines like the beret-wearing poetry fiends of the 50s.
Another playlist of mine that has been on frequent replay and has motivated many of my recent style decisions is titled “boots and pajamas fall!!”. Although this playlist is named for a 2024 song, “Boots and Pajamas” by Rosemary, the bulk of the playlist is composed of mid-1950s to late 1960s pop. Featuring a whole lot of Nancy Sinatra, The Supremes and The Ronettes, this playlist is my definition of girly, feel-good music. If you ever see me walking down the street with an extra pep in my step, I’m most certainly listening to this playlist.
It’s a bit on the nose, but I can’t deny that Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” certainly inspires me to don my gogo boots and a cute shift dress. While my chunky Party City gogo boots are a bit more disco than Sinatra’s sleek, narrow-heeled boots, I like to think they are just as fun and equally made for walking.
Petula Clark’s “Downtown” is another fellow resident of my “boots and pajamas fall!!” playlist and one of my all-time favorite songs. While “Downtown” may have come out in 1964, I take some creative liberties and use the song as inspiration to put on my favorite late 1950s pieces. After all, prior to the internet, trending styles frequently bled into the next decade without social media influencers to deem them “uncool” or “outdated.”
A 1950s piece of mine that’s been on frequent rotation, thanks to the extra spunk that “Downtown” instills in me, is a darling pink and white gingham sleeveless dress with white daisies appliques along the neckline. The fluffy pleated skirt is offset by a thick belt that gives the dress a gorgeous ‘50s silhouette — even without a petticoat. What drew me to the dress in the first place was its striking resemblance to Margot Robbie’s dress as Barbie in Greta Gerwig’s 2023 “Barbie.”
My “dressing for my playlist” habit calls back to the hours I spent every week in my high school costume room, relying on the lyrics and librettos of musicals to guide how I would dress my peers. Even though I’m not a character in a musical, I guess you could say I make myself a character in my life, and using music to inspire my style has added a touch of whimsy to my days, which can sometimes become monotonous with the daily routine of classes and studying.
Next time you look at your closet and get ready to say, “I have nothing to wear,” turn on your favorite playlist. I promise, you’re sure to find something.
