Mondays on Madison
On the corner of 89th, a woman in her fifties stands waiting to cross. Her wide leg, light-washed jeans fit like a glove. She wears a navy button-down with rhinestones that are almost invisible until they glisten in the sun. The whole look is topped off with a pair of cheetah print Adidas.
Walking into the cafe I’m in, a woman probably ten to fifteen years younger than the first wears a crochet cardigan and matching top, a denim maxi skirt, and snakeskin flats. Her jewelry is gold, her sunglasses are big, and her blonde hair is tied back in a low pony like a modern-day Carolyn Basset-Kennedy. She looks impossibly chic.
The private school girls travel in groups with their powder blue uniform skirts pleated and hiked up to be ultra mini. They wear Ralph Lauren sweaters and tortoise-shell clips in their hair.
A woman in her 30s walks a cocker spaniel in a short-sleeved cashmere sweater and black and white polka dot trousers.
A young mom walks down the block alongside her scootering daughter. Her long hair pwas ulled into a practical half-updo. Her narrow frame was clothed in a high-neck black tank top with a short purple and black floral printed a-line skirt, and black block kitten heels. Her black cardigan was tied around her shoulders effortlessly.
I gaze out the window, watching them all pass. My low-rise boot cut jeans, tailored white t-shirt, emerald ballet flats, and vintage beige blazer with military-inspired detailing try their best to emulate the divine chicness I witness moving through the streets every day. I take note of their linens, knits, and denim, the button-ups and baseball caps, leather bags, and matching shoes. Each piece is carefully selected, not just in terms of that day’s outfit, but in terms of taking up space in their closet at all. This thoughtful collection process creates wardrobes that feel as effortless and unique as they are stylish.
I heard someone on TikTok recently lament the loss of New York style. The creator questioned why everyone seemingly dressed the same. There’s been a lot of talk about the West Village girls who melt together in seas of Aritizia. I’d argue we’re looking for fashion inspiration in the wrong places. Between the transplants completely shifting what we know of the artist-driven villages and the understandably upset longtime New Yorkers, all attention is pointed below Fourteenth Street.
But style is alive and well in this part of town. Each woman on the Upper East Side brings her touch of magic to the classics. New York fashion is where it has always been: Madison Avenue.
