Swim shirts. For summer. Groundbreaking.
On fashion’s ability to reframe utility as desire + thoughts on expertise
There are so many things my husband wore before they were popular that I used to dislike. Only to end up buying them myself after I saw them on a “can do no wrong” style deity. Havaianas. Sambas. Doc Martens. His old ‘90s cargo pants. His old ’90s t-shirts. Bucket hats. Beanies. Dragon motifs— until I saw them on Valentino. His leather belt with the buckle that seemed too outdated and his knitted swim caps— until I saw them on Prada. The list is humiliatingly long.
Today’s turn goes to the SPF swim shirt, which I’m officially declaring my hero of summer 2025.

Swim shirts. Another thing I once dismissed as basic. The kind of thing only sun-fearing tourists wore in Cartagena—functional, yes, but with the charisma of an Apple Watch. Until last fall, when the swim shirt gained high-fashion status thanks to Maccapani’s own version. Colorful, splashed with a spray-painted flower, styled with long beaded necklaces, on a conventionally pretty model, and on Vogue Runway immediately signified “chic.”
The semiotics of it all.
Recently I saw a new lilac iteration on Margherita Missoni (Maccapani’s designer herself, one of those fashion women with “can do no wrong” status in my eyes):
Sold.
Figuratively, at least, as the shirt has been sitting on my cart for months. Mostly due to the price. But also because I remembered that North Face shirt I got last fall during my Ross shopping spree, the one with the interesting purple/periwinkle sort of animal print:






Last December, however, I found the swim shirt I can’t wait to wear this summer: hand-painted by wildlife artist Tony Ivory, printed on SPF fabric:





Ok moving on. There’s the one from Jeff’s closet, with sunscreen stains and all:

Last week I watched the debate between Douglas Murray and Dave Smith on Israel and Hamas, which turned into something else entirely: expertise. Which got me thinking: in medicine, we trust the doctor’s dose. In fashion, if we follow Vogue or Missoni’s prescription, we are labeled unoriginal. A try-hard.
So, is fashion expertise a myth? No absolute truths like in science or math? Just vibes? And if the issue is that there’s no objective truth in fashion, does that mean that no expert can actually tell us what’s “good”?
Not quite. In fact, my question misses the point: Fashion may not have absolute truths, or a periodic table, but that doesn’t mean all opinions are equal. There are better ways to see. Sources to investigate. And a wide variety of people to learn from.
What would Cathy Horyn say?
I need you to tell me more about the can do no wrong deity!
Gorgeous, smart and creative; the trifecta!!