A few weeks ago, I broke down and went to the mall. Not out of nostalgia, exactly. More out of a very specific curiosity.
Gap’s Parker Posey video had been stuck in my head for days. The buzz of new-ish Gap creative director Zac Posen was still buzzing. And every time I opened Instagram, another well-dressed person seemed to be reintroducing Gap to their closet. So, for the first time in more than a decade, I wandered into one of the brand’s stores—a newly renovated spot in the Detroit burbs. I assumed I would walk out empty-handed. Instead, I left with five pieces that have been in steady rotation ever since.
For the last decade or so, I suspect like most of you, the majority of my shopping has been done online. I’ve spent far too much time toggling between hunting down vintage gems on eBay and making the occasional SSENSE splurge (followed by the usual returns for bad fits or my conscience catching up to the price tags). But in chasing the high of hunting grails from my couch, I’ve been depriving the meat and potatoes part of my wardrobe. I looked up and realized I’m low on the affordable, no-doubter essentials that quietly pull everything together.
In the end, I walked out of Gap with a full bag and a newfound respect for a brand that, I mistakenly thought, had quietly lagged behind the supposed “Mall Brand Renaissance.” Specifically, I left with a pair of medium-wash baggy jeans, a couple of heavyweight cropped tees, a black linen button-down, a classic denim shirt, and some soft pleated trousers. The baggy jeans look like they came from a fancy Japanese label. The heavyweight tees are genuinely heavyweight. The linen shirt has the perfect summer drape. None of the pieces by themselves could make a statement even if the cops asked.
Also, none cost more than $90 at full retail. Most of them are sitting at 40 percent off or more on (ironically, given how I discovered them), Gap’s site. Thing is: I probably wouldn’t have typed “gap.com” into my browser, and even if I did, it’s doubtful I’d have hit add-to-cart without feeling the goods—and how good they are—with my own hands.
The last time I left the mall with a bag that full, I was back-to-school shopping in the early aughts in between downing an Orange Julius and Auntie Anne’s pretzel. And just like back then, all the clothes I bought from the Gap have been in heavy rotation. Those five pieces layer well, mix seamlessly with what I already own, and make my wardrobe make more sense. They’re not reinventing the wheel, but they are filling in the…gaps.