I am an expert on Taylor Swift’s fashion. I’ve been documenting it extensively for 13 years. I’ve spent tens of thousands of hours researching thousands of runways and reading about hundreds of Taylor’s favourite fashion brands. I wrote an entire book devoted to the subject. I am also a genuine, lifelong fan of Taylor’s music. Her discography has been the one consistent bedrock of my experiences traversing my teen years to my present day thirties.
Being an expert in one thing does not make me an expert in all things. I have educational gaps. We all do. We should feel more comfortable professing our shortcomings, learning from our transgressions, and committing to being better. I suspect we would be if there were more spaces that facilitated and encouraged that pipeline as the default in becoming a better human.
Through my work, I have approached my commentary with the goal of being nuanced, thoughtful, and well-intentioned. With TSS, I wanted to create a space that was the intersection of the things I cared about most deeply: Storytelling, Taylor’s music, and fashion. To use my expertise to provide insights more considered than “X wore Y” and more interesting and sincere than “X looked 13/10 flawless yet again.” It was my hope that in approaching my content in this manner that I would find people who craved those same things. As a result, TSSers make up a community more discerning than most. They are smart and unafraid of the spectrum of opinions that we may each have about art. Life is like a magnet that way.
Fashion is a method of communication. Fashion does not exist in a vacuum. In order to understand what is being expressed, context matters.
In a recent caption documenting Taylor’s NFL fashion, I posited how Taylor’s growing penchant for monogrammed pieces reflected “her increasing confidence and ease in leaning into bigger, bolder, luxe fashion.” And that there was an additional power play in “loudly reclaiming your identity with fabulously obvious” monogrammed items, particularly from luxury fashion houses.
I later updated my caption to expand on thoughts brought forward in the comments, remarking that through the “excessive use of ‘bling’ Taylor is aping at the bejeweled preferences of athletes.” I believe words matter. I also believe it’s important to acknowledge when we use the wrong ones. Making this comparison and thoughtlessly using a word like “aping” (which means to imitate the behaviour of something or someone) was wrong. Recalling Taylor’s satirical “Thug Story” video with T-Pain from 2008 was thoughtless. Using verbiage like “bling” and “chains/z” without having the knowledge or stake in the entrenched history and cultural importance of those fashion pieces was insensitive. These are mistakes I regret and I apologize for.
Context matters.
Culturally, I lapsed in understanding that jewelry worn by Black athletes is deeply rooted in Black music and comes heavily laden with meaning. In an interview with Essence magazine, Pulitzer Prize winner and author Mitchel S. Jackson said that “fashion is never just in the choices that an individual makes.” In his book, Fly: The Big Book of Basketball Fashion, Jackson explores the historical and cultural context of fashion in the NBA throughout the decades. From tunnel walks in the NBA transferring to NFL coverage and beyond, Black athletes have undeniably shaped and influenced sports culture.
In my coverage, I made mistakes. To err is human. To be a better human is to admit your wrongs and work to make them right. I’m committed to actively learning and doing better. As a first step to rectify this, I reached out to commission Black writers far more knowledgeable than I am in this regard to write an essay as a learning and acknowledgment for myself and others.
The following is a guest essay by contributors Exquisite Armantè, Brittany Mackey, and Lisa West whose collective expertise includes fine writing, fashion merchandising, and pop culture. They worked collaboratively to provide an overview on the historical and cultural significance of Black fashion in both the music and athletic worlds covering the background of jewelry, denim, upcycling, and more.
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📝 Guest Contributors: I’d like to thank Exquisite, Brittany, and Lisa for their time in writing this essay and to you for your support of the TSS newsletter, which makes it possible for me to pay contributors like these three.
By Exquisite Armantè, Brittany Mackey, and Lisa West
When Taylor Swift stepped into Arrowhead Stadium on September 24, 2023, not only did she set the world on fire, but she also became a part of a larger cultural dialogue. Whether one was a fan of American football or not, all eyes were on Taylor to see what she would wear at the game and every game she would attend thereafter. Swift is no stranger to changing up her fashion, typically transitioning pieces and silhouettes to match the era she sees herself in. This is especially apparent in her clothes around album releases. It only makes sense that as she grew comfortable on the other side of stadium lights, her NFL WAG (an acronym catchall for the “wives and girlfriends of players” common in the athletic world) style began to take shape game after game. It was like Taylor Swift allowed herself to study this new world of the NFL and discover where she could fit in clothing-wise, naturally, comfortably, and respectfully. As Taylor takes on team graphics and chunkier jewelry, those of us watching can witness her slide into a fashion history that predates Taylor herself.
It was like Taylor Swift allowed herself to study this new world of the NFL and discover where she could fit in clothing-wise, naturally, comfortably, and respectfully.
NFL fashion is intertwined with Black fashion and Black culture. Black fashion has an undercurrent of rags-to-riches storytelling interwoven in many of its iconic looks. Behind the big chains and designer logo prints lies a history of transformation and progress. For instance, the gold chain is a symbol of power. It signifies to those around you that you’ve made it. African American history is directly intertwined with poverty as an aftermath of slavery. Once the enslaved were freed, the government ensured that they would still remain disenfranchised. As such many Black people could not move up the socio-economic ladder like their white counterparts. In a community that typically cannot afford extravagance, finally being able to let yourself bejeweled is a badge of well earned honor.
The first rapper to publicly wear gold chains on his album cover was Kurtis Blow, in reference to his gold selling single “The Breaks”. More rappers followed suit with some of the most prevalent examples being LL Cool J, Run DMC, and Salt N Pepa. By the late 1980s, Hip Hop had evolved and gone mainstream. New York-based designer Dapper Dan made waves with his upcycling of accessories from labels like Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Yo! MTV Raps began airing, making Hip Hop accessible to suburban artists. Public Enemy and NWA were dominating airwaves and the Grammys introduced the Best Rap Performance category with DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince being the first recipients of the award. By the 1990s, Hip Hop was officially an industry force to be reckoned with. Kangol hats and Adidas tracksuits may have been traded in for baggier jeans, jerseys over white tees, and backwards caps but even as the clothes changed people did not fail to accessorize.
Jewelry was a symbol of their defiance and success. Rappers like Jay-Z and Missy Elliott would often be seen on red carpets donning Rolexes, multiple gold chains, and earrings that we call “door knockers”. Gold hoops, long nails, and expressive hairstyles became a staple for women in rap. The more they wore the bigger their status. Furs were worn by most rap stars, regardless of gender. Designers like Tommy Hilfiger and Versace were using rappers in campaigns. Labels like Sean John, Fubu, Rocawear, and Baby Phat dominated retailers. Hip Hop in the 90s-late 00s reflected the fact that we had finally “made it”, as explored in the 2014 docu-series The Tanning of America which examined the widespread permeation of Hip Hop in wider culture.
One accessory that is inextricable from the history of Black people in America is the chain necklace. Although the necklace itself has existed for thousands of years, the gold chain became a staple for rappers and emcees. The gold chain is the Super Bowl trophy of Hip Hop. “I think a lot of people don’t realize how these pieces and creative expression through jewelry — whether it’s a bracelet, or a pendant or whatever — they’re viewed as trophies,” filmmaker Karam Gill told the NY Post when interviewed for his docu-series Ice Cold. The gold chain comes in various styles from the “dookie rope”, the original gold chain, to the Cuban link, which is the chain of choice for contemporary rappers. There’s also the custom made chain, which can include a variation of elements such as diamonds and large nameplates.
The hoop earring in particular has long been a symbol of strength for Black and Latina women. In an article on the history of these earrings for Editorialist, fashion and beauty reporter Sha Ravine Spencer commented that “hoop earrings are a rite of passage and often symbolize growing up, stepping into your own identity, and celebrating your ethnicity.” For rappers like Salt N Pepa and R&B singers like Sade, the gold hoop became essential to their branding. LL Cool J’s single “Around The Way Girl” even refers to bamboo earrings, a more intricate version of the gold hoop and a staple among Black women.
In an all black outfit Taylor wore on November 4, 2024, we see a bomber jacket paired with a very simple tucked in tank top and shorts. The humility of the main garments leaves an opportunity for accessories to do the talking. And what a statement they made. The chunky gold chain that says ‘Chanel’ front and center holds back nothing. Paired with Louis Vuitton logo earrings suggests maybe sometimes it *does* have to be Louis V up on Bond Street. In comparison to her fairly simple white T-shirt and jacket fit of the first game, it’s safe to say Swift now owns Arrowhead Stadium.
One of the most important ways Black people have impacted fashion, and rarely receive credit for, is the innovation of blue jeans. The Indigofera tinctoria plant, in which the color “indigo blue” was named, is native to West Africa. As Africans were enslaved and brought to the Americas, the knowledge of how to dye cloth with indigo plant was carried with them. Blue denim became known as worker’s cloth, or alternatively, “negro cloth”. Once considered too rugged for the wealthy, it is now a staple in every casual wardrobe regardless of status.
Although denim is worn everywhere regularly, it is still considered unglamorous. Wearing it to a highly regarded event will often be scoffed at and considered tacky. But that was of no concern to the people for whom “tacky” as an insult was reserved for: Southerners with a lower class upbringing. The all-denim look that landed Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake on a few worst dressed lists is still replicated 20 years later as people reminisce in adoration.
Taylor’s Versace dress at the 2023 VMAs utilizes a variation in denim fabric that feels reminiscent of outfits Black women often upcycle from older, worn jeans. Although at the time we did not know of her impending introduction to the football world, one could intuit that she was slowly slotting herself into these types of looks. Her denim getup at the September 5, 2024 game has the essence of Freaknik, a popular 90s spring break event for Black young adults held in Atlanta, Georgia. The Versace corset and matching Grlfrnd booty shorts are paired with thigh high red stiletto boots, a Louis Vuitton purse, and gold jewelry. It’s an outfit that Black women have worn in some variation since at least the 1970s.
Also note that two of the brands worn, Versace and Louis Vuitton, are popular amongst the Hip Hop community.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines tacky as an early 19th-century term originally denoting a horse of little value. It was later applied to poor southerners insinuating that they were shabby, cheap, and in bad taste. Although it is a term rooted in classism, it does often describe at least a pretense of wealth. Tacky is to flashy new money, as classy is to old money or “quiet luxury”. Where this becomes a race issue is that Black Americans in the media are almost always new money. They cannot be old money. Because of slavery, their ancestors were the old money in question. They were the property from which white people developed their old money. Classy vs tacky historically has racist and classist connotations but poor and/or Black people have reclaimed it with pride. At the heart of what’s considered tacky to some, is innovation and resourcefulness. Although the current Western “green” movement has been whitewashed and exploited for capitalism, Black and poor Americans have a long uncredited legacy of environmental sustainability. The insistence of their elders to keep reusing every plastic dish that comes with the food they buy while it stains, keep a plastic bag full of plastic bags in the kitchen to use as shower caps and trash liners, and pass down every outgrown item between family members has been out of pure necessity. They simply could not afford to let anything go to waste. For many Black people in fashion, this scarcity throughout their communities is often where the creativity stems from.
At the heart of what’s considered tacky to some, is innovation and resourcefulness.
Black creativity and the need to upcycle intersected with sports fashion in the early 2000s when R&B singer Mya wore a basketball jersey stylized as a dress in the music for her collaborative track with Jay Z “Best Part of Me, Part 2”.
Born from Black women’s desire to express femininity within sports that become so integral to Black culture, the trend of upcycling jerseys took off. It’s been seen on other popular Black female celebrities and other celebrities of color at the time including Destiny’s Child, 3LW, and Mariah Carey.
Within Black culture, upcycled jerseys became one of the huge markers of the Y2K aesthetic. Although this trend was started by Black designers two decades ago, the NFL is now officially licensing logos to Kristin Juszczyk, the wife of San Francisco 49ers fullback Kyle Juszczyk. Kristin’s upcycling designs have drastically increased in popularity after Taylor Swift was seen wearing one of her designs.
On January 13, 2024, one of the coldest games in NFL history, Taylor Swift rocked a red puffer jacket boldly repping boyfriend Travis Kelce’s number 87. The WAG-lor personal touches that we had grown fond of by this time - form fitting tops and short skirts and shorts - were not going to work in this temperature. Deep into winter, Swift refused to let the cold become a hindrance to her style. Instead the jacket became the star of the show. Kristin Juszczyk (a stylist who specializes in upcycling) deconstructed Travis Kelce’s jersey and sewed it as a top layer above puffer lining. The spirit of upcycling to meet a gap in the market for stylish women in sports, as Black designers have done years before, lives on. Kristin rose to the challenge and passed with flying colors.
We have seen this scarcity-turned-trend pipeline with Dapper Dan in the 80s. Working class Black people with an interest in fashion in the ghettos of Harlem could not afford designer brands. As a response to the demand, Dapper Dan began illegally screenprinting the logos of Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and Fendi all over leather bags in a bold and over the top way that was considered cheap and tasteless to the white and wealthy at the time. These outfits and bags were everywhere and anyone could get their hands on it. Dapper Dan removed a barrier to the fashion world. To the Hip Hop world, he became a legend. To the streets, he was a genius. To the established fashion industry, he was a nuisance and a threat. His popularity eventually led to him being shut down in 1992 after Fendi took legal action. This created a gap in the market and the same brands he “cheapened” rushed to fill the void. They took over the logomania trend that Dapper Dan started but this time it was no longer considered “ghetto” and “cheap.” The legacy of logomania still lives on today, worn proudly by the elite.
Taylor has had her fair pick of designer clothing throughout her career, however, we have rarely seen her in as much logo print until now. She wore a Gucci logo print covered mini dress while out and about in NYC on September 8, 2024. As she becomes more comfortable at the games and embraces the culture, we have watched her approach to designer labels become bolder. She looks chic and in tune with her boyfriend who frequently wears Gucci from head to toe.
American football is dominated by African American players and with them comes a very distinctive style that cannot be divorced from this history. It currently recalls strains of 90s nostalgia and African American streetwear. There is also an undeniable relationship between the NFL and Hip Hop. The same big and bold chains that we saw on Hip Hop artists of the 80s and 90s are staples in the closets of athletes today. These industries have intersected in more ways than just style, however. Since the stars of these fields were Black, for a long time they represented hope for many Black boys who saw them as a way to “come up” and out of poverty. Much of African American history and culture is intertwined with poverty due to slavery, so these industries were framed as hope for a better, richer future. If a person was then lucky enough to make it as a rapper, basketball player, or star footballer, wearing flashy clothing and jewelry becomes a badge of well earned honor.
All of this creates the swagger of so many of today’s football stars. One specific football figure of the 90s is essentially a founding father of this style. Deion “Prime Time” Sanders. On his draft day in, hilariously, 1989, he wore a black and gold tracksuit, a neck full of gold chains, a hand full of rings, a wrist full of bracelets and to top it all off dark brown shades inside.
His introduction to the NFL was a statement beyond just what he could do on the field. When asked about his style Sanders said, "If you look good, you feel good. If you feel good, you play good. If you play good, they pay good." Echoes of his outfits from the 90s reverberate in the tunnel walks of athletes today, partially because he set the standard they all aim to meet. In a more modern example, Justin Jefferson of the Minnesota Vikings spent $50,000 of his first NFL payout of $1 million on chains and jewelry. He plays football in his jewelry and when asked he told GQ Sports simply, “I definitely had to get a little bling bling, for, you know.” What’s understood does not have to be explained.
For today’s NFL stars, it all comes down to the tunnel walk. They get to show off their personalities in their street clothes before they have to match with the entire sideline and some of the men and women in the audience. Many players choose to rep their own personal brands, while others display jokes on their shirts. The styles vary from full suits to sandals and T-shirts. All of it, though, is entrenched in history and this history can be seen in the way Taylor chooses to dress for her own tunnel walks on game days.
[This fashion] … is entrenched in history and this history can be seen in the way
Taylor chooses to dress for her own tunnel walks on game days.
Between the bulkier jewelry, more visible luxury label logos, and reworked jerseys, she has fully embraced traditional sports fashion with open arms. She has done so in a way that also tastefully incorporates her own iconic style (like her classic red lip and heels). She is able to embody the spirit of fashion without feeling like she is trespassing or overstepping. This marriage of styles has been fun to witness and it will be interesting to see as her outfits cause a ripple amongst the style decisions of other WAGS.
My sincere thanks to Exquisite, Brittany, and Lisa for their words, time, and expertise.
Exquisite Armantè is a writer planted in Atlanta, cultivated at Louisiana State University, and transplanted to an MFA program at Oklahoma State University. Her work has been featured in Taypedia, Scrawl Place, Hobart Pulp, and forthcoming at Black Warrior Review. You can find more of her work at exquisitewrites.com or follow her on X @exquisitewill.
Brittany Mackey is a Los Angeles-based seamstress with a degree in fashion merchandising who specializes in upcycling and costume construction. Many of her creations have been worn by fans like you at Eras Tour stops. She is involved in activism and strives to connect it to our everyday comforts like fashion, music, and consumerism. She and I share in common a 15+ year long love of Taylor and the album evermore.
Lisa West is a Chicago-based illustrator with a love for all things pop culture. You can find them talking about music, movies, and fashion on their social channels. They enjoy discussing the intersections of social justice and entertainment. They're a longtime Taylor Swift fan, with their favorite albums being 1989 and folklore.
Really enjoyed reading this; thank you Exquisite, Brittany, and Lisa for taking the time to write such a thoughtful, informative, and interesting article. I recognize it is not your responsibility to educate us, but it is greatly appreciated <3
Absolutely love this essay and history! Thank you for sharing this. Fashion is so nuanced. You share it so well. Keep doing you!