STYLEHAMPTON: The Skin Game

While it may seem breathtakingly irrelevant, even downright ridiculous, to even attempt to have a discussion about fashion right now, the way we dress ourselves for our daily existence remains a topic of interest, if not an obsession.

Even in the throes of a global pandemic, there isn’t a single one of us who doesn’t have to face some kind of mirror every morning, let alone the gaze of others, even if it’s just via Zoom.

C’mon, admit it: Even the dog knows when you look like an unmade bed. Our mood, carriage and outlook changes when there’s at least a little effort applied to our appearance.

During the height of the initial lockdown in Florida, when my husband, Rich, and I were basically confining ourselves to our apartment, our car and a daily walk on the nearby public golf course, our wardrobe was confined to gym clothes (although our condo gym was closed, we have a spin bike in our bedroom), followed by an ensemble consisting of whatever clean shirt was in reach (a basic polo for Rich, a button-down for me) and a pair of swim trunks. This was purely a matter of convenience rather than function, as our pool, too, was closed for about six weeks.

Regardless, this uniform of a random shirt and swim trunks became a habit that we are still engaged in, day in, day out, the same old, same old — emphasis on “old.”

But even in a new home, in a less fraught but more vigilant place like Southampton, during these times, why bother? After all, the most important piece of apparel right now is a face mask, of which we have plenty to choose from.

Yet one can’t help but notice that on the crowded village sidewalks there is still an element of fashion being expressed, mostly by the demographic that the late New York Times photojournalist Bill Cunningham referred to as “you kids.” Millennials are dressing with effort, and there are trends to observe.

One needn’t be a fashionista to decipher the predominant style of this particularly unusual Hamptons summer, as the look is so pervasive that it’s impossible not to notice.

It’s all about showing skin. Regardless of whether female or male, it’s the brevity of clothing that’s clearly the thing.

On women, it’s all about the barely there, gravity-defying top or dress. Shoulders and arms are exposed, with many garments cut to appear as if they are in a constant state of falling off. I suppose the aim is to appear alluring, but to me I can’t help but think that this is how one looks when fleeing a house fire.

Bottoms are equally brief — the most ubiquitous being the “Daisy Duke” frayed denim short. This style emerged from the 1980s TV series “The Dukes of Hazzard,” as worn by the actress Catherine Bach, who was required by network censors to wear them over flesh-colored tights.

The short, however, did not become mainstream until the series was developed into a feature film in 2005. In it, the singer Jessica Simpson portrayed the role of Daisy, and the youth culture embraced an even more revealing version of the original cutoff short.

Today, especially among teens, this style is dominating the fashion landscape in a way that few garments ever have, with fraying and shredding effects bordering on falling apart seeming to be the most desirable.

Another extremely common look on young women this summer is the ultra-short, fluttery skirt, in lightweight fabrics that are either gathered into a waistband or extend from a smocked yoke. This is another style that began its life in California, where it was widely adopted by the Hollywood celebrity set for casual outings to places like the Brentwood Country Market and chic restaurants in Santa Monica.

Menswear has also taken a turn toward playing the skin game, mainly through the return of the short-short. Another 1980s staple, popularized by the brand Ocean Pacific and, ironically, called their Longrider short, this style has been given a major revival by the online retailer Chubbies.com. Founded by four Stanford grads, their mantra, “Sky’s Out, Thighs Out,” has been widely adopted in a classification that has been stagnant for decades, ever since NBA star Michael Jordan appeared on the court in longer shorts in 1990.

In the same way that women’s hemlines used to be major topics for discussion in the fashion press (think mini/midi/maxi), now the conversation has shifted to the specific inseam length of men’s shorts. Time was that the only style widely available to most men was the knee-length short, whether plain front, pleated or the dreaded cargo short.

The most popular classification, the golf short, would typically have a 9-inch inseam. For someone my height (5-foot-8-inch-ish), with short legs, every pair of shorts that I bought would demand a trip to the tailor for shortening. Otherwise, I looked as though I was sporting “clamdiggers.” (Remember those?)

But, thanks to Chubbies, whose standard inseam is 5.5 inches (they also offer a 4-inch model), I can finally wear a new pair of shorts right out of the box.

What does all of this abbreviated fashion mean? Perhaps it’s a direct response to being cooped up for so long, and the yearning to grab as much sunlight and fresh air as possible? Or an overwhelming desire to throw caution to the wind, even in the face of our need to be more cautious than ever?

Only time will tell. But one thing’s for sure: Short is the word of the day.

If only it could be applied to the pickle we’re all in, the sooner the better.