Sandy Liang's Book Feels Like Everyone's First Fashion Memory
The downtown designer chronicles her brand's evolution from 2014 to now.
There's no place more special than the sidewalk outside of a Sandy Liang show. Not for the pleated skirts, the hair bows or the cotton candy pink fur coats but instead for the whispers from everyone in attendance about how much the show reminded them of some kind of memory.
Liang has somehow managed to tap into the collective nostalgia of tens of thousands of fashion fans, both those in attendance of her show and those who just admire her collections from afar, despite her singular experience growing up in New York City. Her childhood might not be something everyone can relate to and yet Liang still has a special way of making every piece somehow feel as though it was always meant to be yours. Like it's been tucked away in the back of your brain, unable to materialize until she designed it into reality.
And the designer's archive has been a bit fuzzy too, in the sense that there has never been one, until now, with her latest project with Rizzoli. Dressing Up: Sandy Liang is the downtown designer's first book, which chronicles her brand from it's inception in 2014 until now.
Flipping through the book feels like the nostalgia Liang effortless taps into season after season. There's photographs of models standing in her front of her childhood neighbor's home in Bayside, Queens and eating at Congee Village in the Lower East Side. There's street style shots of all the Chinatown grandmas who she is constantly citing as her forever inspiration. There's even a photo of her mini Australian Sheperd TimTam sprawled on the floor of her studio in one of her leopard print fleeces for dogs.
The book is a more shiny iteration of her Instagram feed, which is just as adored for being equal parts aspirational and personal. Dressing Up: Sandy Liang is an extension of that balance, something that gives as much insight into her design vision as it does how she sees the world around her.
Some fashion books are bogged down by long verbose essays or extended descriptions of technical details. They can feel alienating and stuffy. Liang's of course, does not.
Instead there's short quippy notes accompanying the photos from the designer herself, discussing how she was feeling at the time backstage or what movie she was watching when she put together a mood board. It's as inviting as anything she's ever worked on. It feels so similar to flipping through a photo album, you might find yourself surprised to see you aren't in any of the photos. But that's the Liang touch. She's constantly finding a way to pull you in, creating nostalgia for an outfit you've never even worn but always dreamed of.
Shop the book, below.
