“How do you know someone is wearing The Row? They'll tell you they're wearing The Row," a colleague recently joked. So it goes for any “quiet” habit, from veganism to running to the quitting of alcohol or cigarettes. Call it Dry January Syndrome, or a broader ongoing phenomenon that I’d describe as Performative Boredom making itself present across sartorial and recreational realms.

I myself will let little-to-no time pass without exclaiming to people either of the above. Or how I don't enjoy partying as much as I used to. How I go to bed early to get to the gym in the mornings before work. How I'm looking to date someone whose job is more Excel than Photoshop. That the jacket I'm wearing is Auralee, that I got it on sale, and why it's my favorite. How else will the more snoozefest-y aspects of life get their due attention? 

It’s interesting, the way we bounce between novelty and its antithesis in culture. Consider how the pendulum is swinging back toward the latter in our dress-for-the-gram age, when so much of Instagram's best performing content centers around long-sleeve white tees and quotidian cotton blousons. I can’t help but notice: We've collectively transformed from Sex and the City's Lexi Featherston — who famously lamented that everyone had gotten so boring — into complacent perpetrators of that very boredom, content to watch her tumble out the window.

Extra ordinary is now in-demand: Per industry data, indistinguishable tank tops, rib knits, and flip-flops were among last year's hottest products. Elsewhere in these early 2026 days, the internet's most talked about TV show, Heated Rivalry, delivers a gay rom-com that resists all the dramatic tropes typically associated with queer entertainment, indulging instead in something pleasant and welcoming: scenes of banal intimacy. 

People are fetishizing mundanity and finding comfort in, well, comfort — the familiar, the everyday, things that require little maintenance while being enduring and easy to comprehend (and to style). This is reflected in how people now care to dress, and the aesthetic directions that houses big and small continue to steer towards. While women's fashion has graduated out of stealth wealth-y clichés, the best menswear consistently subscribes to degrees or versions of those trusted truisms, ultimately reading as much of the same — Plain John, albeit for the better.

In the months ahead, logos are to remain fine-print small, if seen at all; jeans are perpendicularly straight-legged; shoes are so pancake'd that there's barely a sole left to walk on. Everyone wants simple staples and reasonably priced designs promising long-haul satisfaction, both in terms of material and optics. And so everything we've wanted to wear these past seasons and want to buy right now looks like it could have technically come from any brand at any point in time. It's era-less, without friction, and will hopefully carry over because of it. To have good taste in clothing is now more democratic and more straightforward, yet also wrapped in a more subdued packaging than ever.

It doesn't take an avid listener to realize how even past its perceived prime, Quiet Luxury was persistently talkative. The irony of Performative Boredom may be that it takes a lot of work to look this listless. While we await this next Fashion Month to read the weathervane once more I, for one, am willing to put in the time. 

Written by Max Migowski, Highsnobiety Shopping Editor

Best known for its Chelseas, Australian brand Blundstone's Claret boot is a subtly successful, weather-appropriate take on modern Westernwear without falling victim to tackiness. As does this Prada, by the way, but at five times the price. Your pick.

Even a hat hater would have to admit to the irresistibility of Bottega Veneta's Intrecciato shearling aviator model. What's more, our very own have declared it a bargain.

Speaking of: Up to 60% on the likes of Lemaire, Loewe, Satisfy, and Stone Island?! Don't mind if I do.

Heard through the Highsnobiety grapevine: Founder and CEO, David Fischer himself, claims this is the ultimate UGG.

Everyone and their mom (and us) have commented on Jonathan Anderson's Dior debut finally hitting store shelves, so this'll be brief: Those twisted loafers with the stitched toe cap? Yes (save for the CD buckle maybe). Those already alluded-to sneakers? Kind of potato-y, kind of awesome, and a treat for IYKYK Nike nerds.

I would perform unspeakable acts in order to own this CELINE leather jacket. That is, if you don't beat me to them.

If you're as crazy as I am, then you know the only way to wear a leather jacket out this time of year is to stack one's warm layers beneath. The scratchier the better, in fact. J. Press offers a fantastic assortment of Made In Scotland knits. Now, if there are two departments that the Scots are experts in, it's bad weather and wool — cable to shaggy, striped or monochrome, Vs and turtlenecks.

In stark contrast, if not direct response, to AI's eerie gloss, netizens are drooling over the imperfect: beaten and battered bags, clothes that appear worn-in. Think of those age-old Ashley and Mary-Kate Olsen Birkins; folks want stuff to have lived a life, or to imply as much. No one wants to be the guy that spent retail on faux-distressed garments, so if you want something that has truly earned its patina, Vestiaire's “good” and “fair” condition sections would be where to search. From vintage Raf to Dries to Carhartt — happy hunting!

By Max Migowski

with Herbert Hofmann, Delia Cai & Youri Chapelle