6 Clothing Styles I've Never Understood and 6 I Would Reach for Instead

Eugénie Trochu is aBest Knockoff Luxury Clothing editor in residence known for her transformative work at Vogue France and her Substack newsletter, where she documents and shares new trends, her no-nonsense approach to fashion and style, plus other musings. She's also working on her upcoming first book that explores fashion as a space of memory, projection, and reinvention.

There are pieces that fashion keeps trying to make happen, season after season, as if the entire industry were gaslighting us into believing they make sense. They appear on runways, in lookbooks, on stylists’ mood boards, and every time, I try to imagine a life in which they’d be practical. Every time, I fail.

Here are a few that have always left me puzzled, and what I’d wear instead.

1. The "No Pants" Trend

Otherwise known as going out without trousers. It’s also called the “underwear trend,” or, for the brave, Miu Miu’s version of courage.

The idea? Throw on an oversize shirt, a chunky sweater, a huge blazer, and underneath, almost nothing. A pair of briefs, a micro-short, a “statement.”

I try to keep an open mind. I’ve always defended personal expression through clothing: kitsch, oversize, transparent. Why not? But there’s a point where creativity becomes a question of weather, and the weather has never endorsed the disappearance of pants.

The movement supposedly started at Miu Miu, then spread through a few celebrities with 1.2-meter legs. On stage or in photos, it works: It’s daring, a little conceptual, a sort of body manifesto. But in real life, the effect is less provocative than alarming. And perhaps you look like someone who left home in a hurry.

What I’d wear instead: an ultra-short, perfectly cut pair of shorts, almost like reimagined underwear but worn as real clothing. Or, my signature choice, a miniskirt.

On top, I’d go for a structured blazer or an oversize sweater to balance the proportions. Still short, still bold, but worn as a silhouette not as a dare against decency.

2. Sheer Skin-Tone Tights

Honestly, I’ve never understood them. And yet I feel like I see them every day. They shine, they snag, they yellow, they cut the leg at the worst possible spot, and above all, they go with nothing. Sheer tights are the ultimate failed compromise: too cold to go bare-legged, not confident enough for real tights.

Let’s be honest. Either you make an effort, you’re cold but you commit, with a long coat, a scarf, something deliberate, or you wear trousers. There’s no in-between. Sheer tights are pure '90s nostalgia, that slightly outdated idea that you had to “even out” your leg tone like foundation. Today there are a thousand ways to wear a skirt without that strange beige no-man’s-land.

What I’d wear instead: Personally, a pair of very fine black Wolford tights or fishnets. And for others, colored tights : plum, forest green, midnight blue. Bold, graphic, joyful. A way to show your legs without pretending they’re Pantone shade “human skin.”

3. Rain Ponchos

I mean those big, oversize ponchos, usually navy or khaki, that bloom the second it rains too much, with their huge hoods and flapping sleeves. I understand the idea if you’re cycling, if you live in Copenhagen, if you have that effortless Scandinavian practicality. But in Paris, honestly, I can’t.

Let’s be real. Most of us don’t actually bike under the rain. We do taxi-to-work, metro-to-work, or run from one meeting to another with a coffee in hand. And in that context, the rain poncho instantly becomes a portable tent. Maybe practical, but not exactly flattering.

What I’d wear instead: A real beautiful trench coat, obviously. There’s nothing more elegant in the rain. It’s the kind of piece that ages well, softens, gains character, and always carries that '70s-British-movie energy. Over it, a perfectly fitted cap to shield your face a little and add a casual-chic note. And, of course, a great umbrella.

I have a small obsession with hotel umbrellas, the kind you “borrow” (or keep by accident) from the exit of a grand hotel. They’re heavy, solid, discreet, and they instantly give the impression that you know what you’re doing in life. Otherwise, a tiny black umbrella, ultra-strong, the kind you forget in your bag until it saves your outfit.

The winning trio stays the same: trench coat, cap, umbrella. Neither folklore nor sport equipment. Just a civilized way to face the rain.

4. Color-Block

I know it’s a trend a lot of people adore. And on some, it’s stunning: daring harmonies, perfect layers, that balance between mandarin orange and aubergine purple that only a truly trained eye can pull off. But me? I’ve never understood it.

Full-on color-block, red, pink, apple green, royal blue, always makes me feel like I’m watching a wedding between a Pantone chart and a firework display. I admire it, but I don’t relate. I feel like I disappear inside all that color, like I stop existing underneath. And let’s be honest; when it’s even slightly off, color-block can go from stylish to “bourgeoise on acid” very fast.

I know there are rules, supposedly: “cool” palettes, “warm” palettes, theoretical contrasts that work beautifully on paper. But in real life, it’s all a bit too mathematical for me.

What I’d wear instead: One strong color, punctuated by neutrals. A red pair of trousers with an ivory sweater. A royal-blue coat over an all-black outfit. A touch, not an explosion. True style is knowing when to stop before you start looking like a crooked Mondrian painting.

5. The Balaclava

The balaclava, the balaclava, the balaclava. Even the word makes me tense. It’s supposed to be chic now that fashion calls it a balaclava, as if a fancier name could change reality. But no. It’s still a balaclava. And I just don’t get it.

I know it looks great on some people, fine features, sharp cheekbones, enigmatic profiles. On them, it’s Russian spy on holiday in Gstaad, a little arty, a little fashion. But on most of us, let’s be honest, it’s a knitted disaster. A face compressed in a wool tube, cheeks squished, forehead uncertain. Nothing breathes, nothing flatters.

And let’s be real; it’s a garment of suspicion. You never quite know if the person wearing it just left a runway or a robbery. It’s not the vibe I’m trying to project, personally.

What I’d wear instead: A beanie and a big scarf wrapped generously, or a wool collar you pull over your head. It keeps you warm, frames the face without trapping it, and keeps that cozy, nonchalant energy.

6. The V-Neck

The V-neck is a mystery to me, and not the good kind. A limp neckline with no clear intention, unsure whether it wants to be chic, casual, or just tired. I’ve tried to like it. I can’t. Over a shirt, it’s a disaster: It shortens the line of the neck and gives pure “Sunday dad.” And yet, apparently, it’s the trend of fall/winter 2025 2026, spotted everywhere, even at Fendi. Well, no. I can’t.

What I’d wear instead: There’s one exception—with a white T-shirt underneath. That tiny detail changes everything. It adds contrast, structure, a bit of layering that visually shifts the whole thing. The white T-shirt frames the neckline, brings light back, and gives some backbone to a sweater I thought was a lost cause. It’s wild how one tiny adjustment can completely transform a piece.

Suddenly, the V-neck looks cool again, almost vintage, a bit deliberately relaxed, without that dad-chic stiffness I can’t stand. Proof that sometimes, all it takes is one detail to save an entire trend from itself.