The girls who shop the men’s section know it all
There is a certain girl you see at the vintage rack, and you just know. She is holding a men’s button-down three sizes too big, already planning how it will hang perfectly undone over a tank. She is not bothered with the sequined tops or the racks labeled “new arrivals.” She is thumbing through boxer shorts in the sleepwear aisle like they are the hottest new accessory.
And she does not bother with the women’s section because she knows the real treasures are elsewhere.
If you know, you know
This is not about genderless dressing as a “trend.” It is about instinct. The girls who shop the men’s section do not follow any fashion regulations. They understand proportions, they understand balance, and most importantly, they understand that the coolest thing you can wear is confidence disguised as ease.
There are the girls who pair vintage Levi’s 501s with ballet flats, who wear an old Ralph Lauren Oxford like it is Prada, who treat men’s boxer shorts as if Miuccia herself designed them. They are not trying to look borrowed-from-the-boys; they are rewriting what “the boys” even means.
Celebrities are in on it, too. Hailey Bieber practically built her off-duty uniform out of oversized bombers and men’s shirting. Bella Hadid turned soccer kits into It-girl staples. Even Rihanna, pregnant or not, has always known the power of styling men’s outerwear like it was custom couture. These are not accidents—they are strategies. The girls who shop the men’s section understand proportion in a way that makes everything else feel flat.
The girls sitting at the coffee shop in their dad’s old Levis, boxer shorts peeking out, and a Prada Cleo under their arm? They are running the show without even realizing it. They make fashion feel less like consumption and more like invention. They do not need a new drop every Friday—they need one good blazer from the men’s rack and the confidence to make it look better than anyone else ever could.
Beyond the men’s aisle
So when people talk about “genderless dressing” as if it is something new, the girls in the men’s section just roll their eyes. They have been doing it all along, with a Depop saved list a mile long and a mental archive of how to make oversized jeans look intentional.
Walk into COS, Jil Sander, or even the men’s floor at Uniqlo, and you will see the blueprint sitting right there. Crisp button-downs cut wide enough to double as dresses. Wool trousers that fall heavy and straight, like something The Row would charge triple for.
A men’s Acne Studios hoodie? She will style it with a silk shirt and Mary Janes, and suddenly it is the most interesting thing in the room.
Vintage is the holy grail, but the runway is not far behind. Prada has been sneaking boxer shorts into collections for seasons now. Bottega Veneta has made a men’s white tank the must-have piece of the year. Even Loewe is playing with proportions that only really click when you throw them on the girls who already knew a men’s XXL was chic.
The magic is not in the brand label itself—it is in the flip. What was designed with one audience in mind gets stolen, reframed, and elevated. And when she wears it, suddenly it does not belong in the men’s section at all.
So the next time you see her drift past in an oversized blazer or boxer shorts that somehow look like they belong at a gallery opening, do not call it a trend. It is not. It is a quiet superpower, a way of seeing clothes beyond their tags.
