Layering Like a Pro

Layering, yeah, people talk about it like it’s some secret code, but honestly? Most folks just throw things on and hope for the best. I mean, I once piled on three greens and looked like I’d lost a bet with a houseplant. But whatever, layering’s the only reason I can swap out a disaster shirt at lunch and pretend it was all part of the plan.

So, a friend—she works at Nordstrom, does those wild window displays—told me to mix up textures, not just colors. Silk under a chunky knit, denim over some soft tee—somehow it stops everything from blending into a sad, muddy mess. Oh, and if you’re nervous about neon or anything loud, just bury it under something plain. Little pop, less panic. Is that cheating? Maybe. San Francisco weather’s a joke anyway, so I just keep this weird pink jacket in my bag; half the time it saves me from freezing, other times it just makes my bland outfit look like I meant to do something interesting.

Honestly, I can’t be bothered to memorize color theory or whatever. I just try not to feel like wallpaper. Most people aren’t consulting some color wheel before they leave the house—like, who even owns one? Still, 70% of my worst outfits could’ve been saved by tossing on a patterned scarf or some ugly flannel. There’s this one hideous plaid shirt I own that magically makes magenta and olive stop fighting. Don’t ask me how. If it works, I’m wearing it.

Frequently Asked Questions

Color rules? I never really got the point. My closet only started making sense when I stopped obsessing over neutrals and just started mixing stuff that probably shouldn’t go together. Sometimes the weirdest combos make the old jeans or that thrifted tee feel like, I don’t know, less of a lost cause.

What are some unconventional color pairings that can spice up my wardrobe?

Coral and army green? Sure, why not. Lavender with burnt orange? I mean, it sounds like a dare, but sometimes I get bored and just go for it. Saw a Vogue stylist layer a butter-yellow blazer over cobalt blue jeans—looked like she got dressed in the dark, but somehow it worked. Lilac with chartreuse? People stared, probably for the wrong reasons, but at least it wasn’t boring.

One time I wore hot pink with brick red. Someone called it “aggressive optimism.” Not sure if that was a compliment or a warning. The only real mistake is playing it safe—unless you think cardinal red and burgundy are the same thing, but that’s just chaos.

How can I use a color wheel to find unique color combinations for my outfits?

I don’t really buy the “opposites attract” thing with colors. Honestly, the colors next to each other (analogous, if you want to sound smart) are way more fun than people admit. I just mess around with secondary and tertiary colors—like teal with rust instead of emerald, and hope for the best. I’m not a color expert. I just keep throwing stuff together until it doesn’t make me cringe. The color wheel helps sometimes, but mostly it’s just there to make me feel like I have a plan.

Split-complementaries? I guess those are a thing. Fashion magazines act like it’s some secret hack, but really, it’s just more trial and error. Someone once told me to tone down wild colors with pastels. Sometimes it works, but try telling that to people who think black fixes everything.

Can you suggest three-color combinations that complement each other for a bold style statement?

One time I wore navy, pumpkin orange, and mint because I had no clean socks. An Elle editor said something nice (or maybe she was being sarcastic, who knows). The classic red-yellow-blue combo? Feels like kindergarten art class. I’d rather mix up grape purple, olive green, and blush. Orange, teal, and fuchsia is wild too, except I always forget what teal is supposed to look like and mess it up.

Three loud colors? Go for it, but if you ever catch me in red, green, and white in December, please tell me to go home. I’m not trying to cosplay as a Christmas decoration.

What are four colors I can combine to create a cohesive and trendy look?

Cohesion’s kind of overrated, right? “Trendy” just means you threw half the paint store at your closet. Sage, lilac, marigold, and charcoal? Sure, if you don’t mind looking like a coffee shop mural. Four-color outfits only get weird if you start matching your socks to your hat. Don’t do that.

My designer friend claims indigo, blush pink, copper, and cream is the hot combo. Apparently, soft blue, mustard, muted green, and tan are trending too. I tried it for brunch, but spilled coffee everywhere, so maybe just pick patterns that hide stains if you’re as clumsy as me.

What tools can help me generate a color palette for an innovative fashion ensemble?

Pinterest is a black hole, but if you want something that actually spits out palettes, Coolors and Adobe Color Wheel are decent. Adobe once gave me “seafoam, mango, and pewter,” which made zero sense. I’ve watched way too many stylists doodle palettes on their iPads—sometimes it’s just random clicking until something looks okay.

If you want to get all official, the Pantone app exists, but honestly, I get more inspiration from mood boards with random packaging scraps. Someone said fashion week designers use fancy tools, but I’d rather take a screenshot than pay $300 a year for an app that can’t even pick a good maroon.

What are the top color matches currently trendsetting in the fashion industry?

Okay, so I thought forest green and black would totally nail it for fall (classic, right?), but apparently designers are bored of that combo. Now it’s all these wild duos—lemon yellow smashed against steel blue, which, honestly, hurts my eyes a little. Chartreuse keeps showing up on runways, like, everywhere. Did I miss a memo? Digital lavender? Punchy orange? My Instagram is just a mess of those two, and I don’t even know if I’m supposed to like it.

Supposedly, style writers are raving about tomato red, rose pink, emerald, and clay brown. “It” colors, they say. Meanwhile, every other post I see is some soft, “aesthetic” palette—think buttercream, pistachio, powder blue. Is this just dopamine dressing hype, or do people genuinely want to look like a macaron? I’m probably a closet clean-out away from caving and buying a pastel sweater I’ll regret.