Unpopular Opinion: I Hate Blazers

Introducing the "blazer-cardigan dichotomy."

The blazer is almost universally considered to be a fashion staple. Even I made this proclamation back in 2008, when I was amongst a cohort of teenage fashion bloggers that Teen Vogue somehow decided it was relevant to interview about personal style. The exact quote? “Tudo jackets and blazers will always be fashionable.” (You can find the entire interview here, if so inclined.) Besides having zero idea what a “tudo jacket” is—I think it’s supposed to read “tuxedo jacket?”—I find myself humbled by this living evidence of my youthful self. My views have evolved considerably in the 16 years that have elapsed since that interview; living proof that a person can change. Blazers might always be in style, sure, but I can now say with my entire chest that blazers are not my style.

“Is the humble blazer not the workhorse of a modern wardrobe?” you ask. We find ourselves embedded in a fashion moment in which it feels like blazers are eternally popular, deemed stylish for at least the last 20 years. There are fitted, severe-looking blazers that scream artistic professional. More recently, the blazer du jour has been an oversized, unfitted style that combines the garment’s inherent chic with a sense of effortless style. Then there are the blazers of yore, navy one-button numbers with so little personality they are synonymous with the uniform for corporate America. With so many variations across a single garment, how is it even possible to shun them all?

Well, not without great difficulty. It’s not easy being this level of contrarian, but someone’s gotta do it. Blazers might theoretically look great on everyone but they just don’t feel natural on me. Every time I put one on, I hope that this is the one that finally helps me access the girlboss within. But instead, blazers feel like I am playing dress-up in some adult’s wardrobe. I look in the mirror and don’t recognize myself. Conversely, I think this why a lot of people actually like wearing blazers. The sense of acquired power and confidence that comes from putting on a simple item of clothing can be intoxicating, like microdosing the cure to imposter syndrome. But even when the blazer fits well, something just still feels wrong. I just can’t get into the corporate cosplay of it. It’s not that I don’t want to look competent, I just think there are other garments that do that far better and are more suited to my own personal style.

So what piece of clothing does work for me when it’s time for a cheeky layer? A cardigan, naturally. A cardigan is the softer, more casual cousin to the blazer. At family gatherings, it probably wants to sit in the corner and read while the blazer regales the adults with accounts of its latest exploits. Cardigans have an academic, professorial vibe that I am inherently drawn to. They’re the “smart person’s layer” and it just feels right. They’re the blazer for kids who were “a pleasure to have in class.” If this all sounds incredibly annoying to you, I don’t blame you. I am who I am!

I’m sure there are people out there who feel equally comfortable in both blazers and cardigans but my deep blazer aversion leads me to believe that there are others out there like me. Do you skew exclusively one way or the other? Are you a blazer Kinsey 10? If so, show yourself!

Rare footage of me in a blazer circa 2014

This antipathy towards sharp shoulders is actually the cause of the most difficult fashion-related decision I’ve ever had to make in my life. In 2014, I stumbled upon a black Moschino blazer bedecked with candy buttons for only $50 in the “fancy section” of my neighbourhood at a thrift store. Immediately drawn to its cheeky sense of humour I fell in love with its jovial energy and slipped it on. It fit perfectly, as if it had been cut and sewn to suit my exact measurements. For $50, I knew it was a worthwhile purchase. And then I just…never wore it. Well, I wore it approximately twice (bringing down the cost-per-wear to a respectable $25) as a photo exists of me wearing it to a Toronto Fashion Week (lol) event around that time. But beyond that, I would sometimes slip it on, twirl around and admire it’s beauty then put it back on the hanger and pick out something else to wear. It survived a decade’s worth of wardrobe culls because I adored its friendly nature but eventually I decided it would be better off in the closet of someone who actually wore it. After several unsuccessful attempts to sell for a profit on Depop and Poshmark, I sent it off to the orphanage aka my beloved Common Sort, and exchanged it for some store credit. 

The Blazer That Got Away

Now, I kind of wish I had kept it so I could have pitched myself as a subject for former Vogue editor Liana Satenstein’s brilliant newsletter Neverworns, in which she interviews fashion people about notable pieces in their closet they, you guessed it, never wore. I’d love to hear her theories on why I never wore this beautiful blazer, but I think I’ve already figured it out.

So there you go. Blazers: have fun wearing them but they’re just not for me. I’ll pick looking nebbish over competent any day.