Get In, We're Going Robe Shopping

Welcome to Wear Mail by Rachel Hodin. Home to spectacular, shoppable finds—fed to you in tasty, bite-sized edits that'll inspire you creatively, generate lols, and are specifically designed to tickle all. Read Rachel's vintage shopping thoughts here or subscribe on Substack.

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You ever discover that something you thought was going a certain way is actually not going that way at all? Or something you thought you were doing just fine at—better than fine, dare I say—you’re actually doing horribly, horribly wrong? I can point to more than a few such mortifying moments in my life.

Some of these can be lumped together under one umbrella. Like the countless, harrowing moments in which I accidentally caught a glimpse of myself mid-dancing, casting grim doubt on my presumed greatest childhood feat (and weapon): the belly roll. Other such instances are so uniquely disquieting, so remarkably nightmarish, they could only realistically occur once in a lifetime—and each of these stick out in my memory like a mangled thumb.

There was that time, back when I still rode horses with my sister and mom, when my mother pulled me aside to tell me to stop snapping at the barn (snapping with my fingers, to be clear). Because, if I wasn’t aware—and rest assured, I was not—I was snapping nonstop, everywhere I went, with every step I took, and everyone at the barn was making fun of me. A chilling revelation, to be sure. And just as jarring—though vastly different—as finding out that I got a 1 on my French AP despite walking out of the exam room feeling pretttttty good about it.

Fast forward 17 years (don’t do the math) and it happened again. Now I must first preface this by saying that I am, through and through, a robe gal. The first thing I do when I get home is strip down to my undies and socks and slip on my favorite vintage Dior silk robe. And I’ve never understood why anyone would do anything different. If I could, for the rest of my life, only adorn myself in breezy layers of silk, I would. Because not only is it surpassingly comfortable, it’s also—I would argue—sexy in a suggestive, slinky, aristocratic kind of way (no matter that I live with a yeasty Basset Hound).

Turns out, this is not a popular opinion in my household. Over the years, I’ve had inklings that this might be the case, little comments here and there that did call my foolproof equation (robe = sex) into question. Faint memories of my former roommate christening my around-the-house gait—hunched, swathed haphazardly in a robe, and dragging my feet—as “the Rachel shuffle.” I remember hearing him say this and thinking, this couldn’t possibly be a compliment, then storing that memory somewhere far out of reach and continuing onward. 

Despite this, I could have never anticipated my boyfriend’s deep-seated distaste for a silk robe. I believe “schlumpy” and “dowdy” are just a few of the words he’s used to describe what I look like in my robe.Um, okay, I said. Tell me how you really feel. I just did, he said.

And yet…when I tell you this aversion of his has only increased my love for silk robes tenfold, I am not exaggerating in the slightest. The defiance of it all! I’m giddy just thinking about it. Thanks to him, now when I throw on my robe I am overcome with a sort of heady rush. Sometimes, when I pass him in the kitchen, I’ll grab the robe with one hand and sort of flick it at him in the manner of a salsa dancer flicking her ruffle-tiered dress so that it grazes his skin with a light flutter, like a delicate kiss. 

So in honor of my lifelong commitment to robes, behold: my boudoir edit…

We’ll begin with the crown jewel (the robe). Here, some vintage and second-hand styles:

1. Oscar de la Renta kimono, $26.99 2. Fleur du Mal robe, $398 3. Dior silk robe, $1,108.90 4. Oscar de la renta robe, $22.85 5. Casablanca silk robe, $540

6. Pierre-Louis Mascia silk-blend robe, $613.44 7. Prada silk feather-trimmed robe, $540 8. Casablanca silk robe, $674 9. Fernando Sanchez long robe, $248

10. Adriana Iglesias silk robe, $610 11. Versace silk robe, $325 12. Rick Owens silk robe, $870

German designer Eva Bitzer also makes robes from pure silk, which you can find here.

In the realm of loungewear, I highly recommend Yaitte. It’s the brainchild of London-based industry veteran Danielle Jade Windsor and is known for its near-perfect knits, crisp shirts, and matching bottoms. Her shirting materials are all bespoke, made in Italy and Portugal in the same mills used by Burberry and Celine. The “Buoy” button-ups are apparently a bestseller:

The Buoys ($284), in: 1. Bespoke Duck Egg Blue 2. Chocolate & Navy Fine Stripe 3. Bright Blue Stripe

Personally, I prefer the fit of her Palma shirt, which I own and wear far too often. It’s cut in cotton and has a curved hem and wider cuffs that I find to be more flattering than the extra-tailored, tapered shape of the Buoy:

The Palmas ($247), in: 1. Blue Stripe Cotton 2. Crisp White Cotton

Last thing I’ll say about Yaitte. Both shirt styles come with matching PJ-like bottoms, including shorts that feel like grown-up Joe Boxers, which I—who used to lie to friends during sleepovers and be like “Oh shit, I forgot my Joe Boxers!” even though I didn’t own a pair—appreciate.

Now, onto lingerie. If you’re expecting erotic negligées—that’s a column for another time.

On the creepy, Virgin Suicides side of the spectrum we have Tess Johnson, whose babydoll-like nighties are handmade from one-of-a-kind vintage and antique textiles, and By Liv Handmade, whose pieces are also all one-off and handmade from found materials like antique linens, curtains, blankets, and bedsheets.

1. Tess Johnson Frances bedsheet blouse, $285 2. Tess Johnson Etta bedsheet blouse, $285 3. By Liv Calla dress, $368

4. By Liv Pearl dress, $285 5. By Liv Agatha dress, $268

For something a tad more sinister, Renli Su may do the trick. She uses incredible quality linens, handwoven ramies, and Chinese silks to create nightgown-style dresses that reference everything from Victorian-era vintage to 19th-century Chinese workwear. The vibe is homely, lifeless porcelain doll, Sissy Spacek being thrown down the stairs by her mother in Carrie, and me sleepwalking to my parents’ room only to hover over them without uttering a word.

1. Edna dress, $525 2. Silk sheer slip dress, $398 3. Nellie dress, $578 4. Off-white silk trim dress, $821.63

A final thought. If you, too, are titillated by the prospect of turning off your “partner” by wearing exceedingly comfortable loungewear, consider this: the bloomer. With an airy, diaper-like fit, they’re at once remarkably unbecoming and marvelously liberating. And funny story: the style is named after Amelia Bloomer, an early suffragist who didn’t invent bloomers, but did advocate for them as a nice alternative to wearing layers of petticoats and rib-breaking corsets while slaving away in air condition-less kitchens.

Generally speaking, the look seems to have been received well by men at the time if this 1897 NYTimes article is anything to go by:

“Out in California the other day a dentist refused to pull a tooth for a woman because she was attired in bloomers…Down in Alabama a man tried to commit suicide by hanging because his wife would wear bloomers.”