I Am Not Wearing Your Letterman Jacket

In these months of solitude, the bored masses have switched on to Netflix to help them escape the mundane feeling of the lockdown. This constant tuning in is no new feeling to teenagers, whose viewership has created an entirely new genre of melodramatic “teen” shows and movies. While I binged (and rebinged) these shows, I became increasingly interested in the patterns of dress. As a fashion zealot, I tend to fixate on styling within any form of media - I get excited by fresh perspectives in fashion. Especially when it is portrayed through a young character’s style. Sadly, as I binge hop from Riverdale to Love Victor, I am underwhelmed by the lack of originality in the costume designer’s styling choices. It leaves me to question if there is a dress code for every mainstream teen-oriented TV show and if this rulebook accurately depicts the taste of the current generation.

Throughout these teen melodramas, one-dimensional characters are condemned to insipid styling. Costume designers should use their fashion expertise to amplify the characters’ voices, creating dimension to these teens through clothing but many designers fall flat. However, the issues with costumes is not entirely the costume department’s fault. Hollywood costume designers have to answer to showrunners and the network to ensure that each garment they choose is on brand for the series and the channel.

The aesthetic issues of a show fall on the shoulder of its creator and writing team; the vigor in which they describe each character paints the picture of who the character is, therefore hinting at these character’s style. This causes a hindrance in the creativity for a designer making it hard for them to push boundaries, delivering stimulating costume concepts that their bosses can approve. Here lies the real root of the problem, aside from the basic network TV character breakdowns, a designer’s creativity is dwindled based on what network heads think their audience wants to see. Yet heads of networks (like seventy year old Mark Pedowitz from The CW) are typically the jobs of older white males who have not been in high school since the sixties. So, what do they really know about what our generation likes to wear? 

Consider their most popular show, Riverdale. This hit teen drama centers around five main characters that exemplify every single high school movie character trope ever. The All-American jock (who is ironically played by the New Zealand actor KJ Apa), the girl-next-door (Lili Reinhart), the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks (Cole Sprouse), the rich daddy's girl (Camilla Mendes) and the mean popular head cheerleader (Madelaine Petsch). The Riverdale cast is dressed in tropes: the staple “bad boy” leather jacket is paired with all of Sprouse’s outfits, while rich girl Mendes always adorns her fit with a pearl necklace and Apa constantly sports his football letterman jacket. 

Although some of these costume pieces do hold weight for some characters (like Mendes’ pearl necklace was a gift from her father before he went to prison), numerous costume choices simply promote these outdated tropes. Every week we tune in to watch Petsch, the prettiest popular (twenty-six year old) high-school girl, do a slow-motion strut down the halls in her mini-skirt, crop top and heels. She evokes the sense that, “Every girl wants to be her and every guy wants to do her” (F*&% the Prom- another teen flick starring Madelaine Petsch as the mean popular head cheerleader). It is baffling to watch the different shows replicate these tropes (sometimes with the same actor) with the costume design only emphasizing these stereotypes, confirming how superficial screenwriters think teenagers are.

Generation Z is a lot more than the silly high school tropes that are portrayed on TV and we show it by how we dress. We play and experiment with gender norms, always pushing the boundaries of fashion, asking the fashion industry to give us more: more inclusive sizes, more dynamic silhouettes, more comfortable clothing. Most shows don’t represent the dynamic tastes for this generation but, recently one show redefined the style of teen melodramas. HBO’s Euphoria pushes the boundaries of young adult fashion. The show’s characters and costumes embody everything Gen Z is: fun, bold, unique and unapologetic. Euphoria’s make-up artist Doniella Davy was informed and inspired by teen influencers who she researched for the show. Davy wanted to immerse herself in a younger generation’s fashion choices so that she can authentically create looks for young characters, paying off in her first Emmy for Outstanding Contemporary Make-up. This show loves to rebel against the norms of teen show costume design - throughout the series, a transgender character wears non-gender conforming undergarments. “There is a lot of power seeing a young trans girl not really trying to conform to a cis-gender standard” Hunter Schafer (Euphoria actress) stated regarding her character’s costumes. This series recognizes young adults and how we use clothing to express all aspects of ourself.

As Shakespeare’s once said, “Theatre holds a mirror up to society” (Hamlet); although, film is not exactly the same as theatre, it is a mass form of storytelling. People stare at these screens hoping to escape while wanting to find themselves. From the character development to the fashion styling, the lack of genuine adolescent depictions can be disheartening causing one to believe that their story doesn’t matter. As an impressionable teenager, when you watch a show that is supposedly made for you, you should be able to connect to real characters rather than clichés. Hopefully, with Euphoria unveiling what it looks like to be a teenager in today’s society (and receiving accolades for their honest work) there will be a paradigm shift in major studios; causing them to create characters that resemble this generation versus propelling old-fashioned Hollywood ideals.

Photo Credits: Pinterest

Report: Taylor McKenzie