Everyone with a sense of style in the fashion world has a uniform rather than following trends—here's mine.

      Chrissy Rutherford serves as a Who What Wear UK editor-in-residence as well as a fashion editor, writer, podcaster, content creator, and mental health advocate dedicated to promoting genuine discussions about wellbeing in the digital era. After spending 15 years in the fashion media, she now leverages her platform and FWD, a personal development newsletter, to destigmatize mental health challenges, share her experiences, and advocate for vulnerability as a powerful means of connection. There’s a common misconception that a career in fashion entails dressing like characters from Sex and the City or The Devil Wears Prada each day, effortlessly combining standout pieces with the latest trends. After a decade as an editor, one of the key lessons I learned from the industry was that I didn’t have to embrace every trend. Immersed in fashion weeks, runway shows, and trend reports, I realized how quickly items fall "in" and "out" of fashion. Many trendy pieces I purchased often ended up being the first to go during a wardrobe cleanout in the next season. Thus, I gradually focused on what I genuinely liked and what felt authentic to me—regardless of whether it was considered "in fashion" that season—and built my wardrobe accordingly.

      Uniform dressing begins by pinpointing essential pieces or hero items that can be easily mixed and matched, making the act of getting dressed feel effortless. I first discovered this style of dressing during a particularly cold winter around 2017 when I became enamored with the Wolford Colorado bodysuit, which turned out to be the key piece for all my outfits. It was the ideal layering item, and I frequently paired it with high-waisted, straight-leg jeans and ankle boots, allowing me to have more fun with statement outerwear. It was a simple, sleek look that made me feel my best each time I wore it.

      Naturally, this concept isn’t entirely original. Some of the industry's most innovative creators, who are responsible for establishing and defining trends, often do not engage in them. Figures like Phoebe Philo, Jonathan Anderson, and the late Karl Lagerfeld frequently appeared at their runway shows dressed in their own interpretation of a "uniform." Philo usually opts for black trousers and a loose-knit top, Anderson often sports jeans and neutral knits, while Lagerfeld was known for his black suits paired with high-neck shirts and his iconic fingerless gloves. Diane von Furstenberg transformed her signature wrap dress into a successful fashion empire. The notion of a personal uniform has also transcended the fashion realm. Steve Jobs famously wore an Issey Miyake black mockneck turtleneck with jeans daily during his time at Apple.

      "I love uniforms because they allow you to hide," Miuccia Prada remarks, illustrating her own formulaic approach to dressing. She is frequently seen in long skirts (which she prefers pleated or voluminous) combined with a button-down shirt or a crewneck sweater—simple shapes she returns to repeatedly, even as she incorporates color or embellishments. I'm uncertain about how much hiding she actually does, but it undeniably allows the attention to remain focused on her collections. My personal relationship with uniform dressing has evolved over the ten years I have practiced this styling method. For example, my winter uniform does not translate well into spring or summer, particularly when warmer months feel more suitable for experimentation. However, in recent summers, I have been increasingly drawn to halternecks, whether as tops or dresses. Previously, I viewed them as somewhat childish, appropriate only for high school or college, but now at 40, my perspective has shifted significantly. To me, halternecks evoke a sense of femininity and subtle sexiness, and styled correctly, they can appear both playful and sophisticated. Not all halternecks are created equal, though; I favor the polished look of a square halter top that cuts straight across the bust or a teardrop shape.

      A few years ago, I purchased a simple white ribbed halter from Aritzia, and my appreciation for it has only increased, ultimately inspiring me to design a summer uniform around it. A crucial lesson in establishing a personal uniform is that when you find something that truly works, it’s wise to buy multiples. Unfortunately, Aritzia discontinued this top, but like a savvy shopper, I managed to find extras on Depop so I’m well-prepared. A halter dress from St. Agni that I got this spring also encouraged me to embrace this silhouette.

      Of course, this doesn't mean I never stray from that path. My passion for fashion and enjoyment of experimenting with outfits will always be present; I will continually try different styles that attract me. However, my uniform serves as a foundation, a dependable starting point I can revert to whenever I'm feeling uninspired, overwhelmed, or simply unsure about what to wear. There's a comforting sense of assurance in knowing precisely what works for me.