I was in a cult… just kidding, but I was part of a ‘cult’ following. For many who grew up in the late 90s and early aughts, Abercrombie was a way of life. The aspirational, yet hardly achievable idea of the all-American teen with perfect teeth and washboard abs, whose lifestyle was encapsulated by summers upstate, winters skiing and looking good doing it.
”Have you tried how great our jeans fit?” A&F recruitment tactics were ingenious: send attractive people to malls and college campuses to scout talent, or if you were lucky, get noticed while shopping in-store — the ultimate marker of hotness.
Collar popped, I entered high school in August 2004, the same year The OC debuted its second season. From my small Midwestern town my best friend and I imagined ourselves as Coop and Summer, reigning supreme in head-to-toe Abercrombie. We meticulously planned our outfits for the week, occasionally meeting up and swapping clothes to avoid repeating looks. Things got real senior year when I was inducted to the ‘casual luxury’ lifestyle by board-folding tees in the Gilly Hicks mock store at the Abercrombie & Fitch home office.
You might wonder “What is Gilly Hicks?” and “What the f*ck is a mock store?” Well, in the charming town of New Albany, Ohio, there’s a magical campus where adults can ride around on razor scooters, huddle around campfires, and take two hour gym breaks — being #abercrombiehot was part of the ethos. The home of faux stores where the team runs floor sets and plans product visuals to ensure the A&F vision is executed to a T across all real stores.
The school of Abercrombie was unconventional and the preppy paradise might have had its missteps, but A&F mastered the art of branding. They had an entire team dedicated to telling their story through Brand Senses. Everything was considered: sight, sound, smell, and touch. I secretly wanted the job of store playlist curator. Sometimes I long to be overcome by the smell of Fierce and the sounds of a Whitney Houston dance remix. Oh to take one final entrance down the campus boardwalk, greeted by two casually hot people tossing a football. Pure nostalgia.
I spent eight years on Abercrombie’s campus, working in various roles from Floor Model to Web Designer. Though my tone here is playful, my deep affection for the brand has profoundly shaped both my career and personal style, and I’m forever grateful.
Gilly Hicks, much like the other Abercrombie brands, is not what it used to be, once defined by sexy lighting, gingham bloomers, and the imaginary estate of an Australian equestrian who’s Santos mahogany library shelves and apothecary drawers were brimming with color-coordinated lingerie alongside tables heaped with endless Bruce Weber photography books.
The uniform was laid-back yet specific: grey, navy, and white were the staples, with occasional brown or plaid variations for the seasons. Nails had to be kept short and, if painted, in shades of red or pink. Footwear was restricted to flip-flops or Converse, and denim had to be Abercrombie. No jewelry was allowed unless it were subtle and elevated like a pair of diamond stud earrings. Each new floor set came with a fresh document detailing the season’s key looks—essentially, my style bible. I wore Abercrombie head-to-toe for nearly ten years. It’s rare to find such deep brand loyalty anymore.
The foundation of my personal style was built on their guidelines. Learning the rules allowed me to find ways to playfully bend and break them. I’m in my 30s now and I find myself still using their style playbook. I dress like an Abercrombie Adult.
I’m calling these two looks, but it’s really just one styled two ways. Both versions follow the Abercrombie color story, but I’ve swapped flip-flops for suede loafers and added an ankle bracelet and basket bag for texture.
These two outfits adhere to the navy, white, and plaid rules, but I’ve chosen ballet flats over flip-flops to give them a more polished finish.
The white lace in the left look is quintessential Abercrombie, though the black loafers would have been a definite no-go on campus. Meanwhile, the right look captures ‘casual luxury’ perfectly, but I’ve swapped flip-flops for Tabis to add subversive edge.
These two outfits are the furthest from Abercrombie’s classic look, but they reflect how my style has evolved while still respecting the brand’s foundational rules. The black dress, which would have been a strict no in the Abercrombie dress code, actually echoes the brand’s iconic silhouettes. I’ve swapped Converse for Asics and added a classic flap bag to give it a more sophisticated vibe. On the other hand, pairing flip-flops with trousers, a denim jacket, and a white tee pays homage to Abercrombie’s casual aesthetic, but stays true to my more sophisticated adult style.
I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, but I am undeniably a product of the Abercrombie industrial complex. Paying tribute to my roots, I’ve created a capsule wardrobe that can be styled endlessly, so you can embrace casual luxury forever.
Stay toasted, xx.
Blindness can make you braver, because you cannot see the danger.
——Gulliver’s Travels (written by Jonathan Swift)