Trying to decide what to buy from The Row Summer 2025?
Do as the Olsens do...by less, wear it well
Whenever a new collection drops, a sparring ensues between the practical side of my brain — the one that sets boundaries and understands the concept of money, and the side closely connected to my heart —the one that defies all logic and wants to please me. Guess which side I like better?
There’s been a lot more in the offerings lately, and the summer release, being particularly wearable, left me overwhelmed and paralyzed with indecision. Thank goodness for the hive, a place to gather, discuss, analyze purchasing decisions, and justify our insanity; more than a sisterhood, it’s a support group.
I’ve long considered myself more of a collector than a wearer, but the urge to collect has waned, and I think it’s tied to inconsistent health and the accelerated perception of time since I turned 50. The issue is, as a content creator, there’s intense pressure to show newness continually, and even though I think I manage a good balance of high, low, new and old, you can only do so much old before your audience abandons in frustration because pieces aren’t available for purchase.
I’ve felt overwhelmed lately and by the looks of it, I’m not alone. You can’t open Substack without seeing a post on consumption and how to rein in spending. I figure there are several ways I could get at this: I could keep a spending confessional and over-analyze (I excel at this), get off the grid for bit, commit to a budget, or simply observe the hive try-ons and cheer from the sidelines (this fills my cup). But, the winning (more like losing) strategy I most often employ is to act on instinct, do the math later, and then sell things (bags, clothes, kidneys) to cover the losses. Such is the lure of The Row.
And the only people seemingly immune to it are the Olsens.
Recently, during a frustrating and prolonged budget balancing exercise (how was I ever an accountant?!), I paused to look up a price and came across an old picture of Mary-Kate on the streets of NYC from a few seasons ago, and recalled the first time I saw it. I remember how inspiring and unexpected it was – two new bags debuted simultaneously. The Inside-Out Margaux was already on my list (I was waiting for my pre-order to be delivered) but then I set my sights on the Dante tote too and scooped one up on The Real Real in mint condition shortly thereafter. I HAD TO HAVE them.

The Olsens’ unmatched personal style, incomparable eye for design, and steadfast commitment to their brand’s continuous improvement have earned them a cult-like following from clients convinced they need to have something new from each collection. And not just one thing — many, many things. But what occurred to me is that the designers don’t wear much of it themselves. They’re not getting high on their supply.
We’re more likely to see them in a one-of-a-kind, hard-to-find, vintage coat sourced from an obscure Paris boutique on an unnamed street. Besides the bags, which are rotated sparingly, they’re not walking advertisements for The Row. Also, they’re repeat offenders. How many times have we seen them in the same shoes (Canal loafers, Vans, Sambas, Birkenstocks), and coats (MK’s vintage velvet comes to mind), carrying the same bags (albeit the impossibly chic and rare alligator versions)?
It’s the same old stuff, but it NEVER gets old.


When an Olsen surfaces, the image is burned into our subconscious and whispers sweet nothings to us, unconsciously seducing us into Row swag, inching us closer to the outfit being replayed in our brains in a continuous loop. While on the surface, purchasing, let’s say, the Jolene jacket may seem unrelated to Ashley stepping out in flip-flops and her woven Ben bag, there is a connection. Their influence is a confluence of unique style, aversion to publicity, and the twin effect, and the draw is undeniable — a mere glimpse of them stirs something in us and keeps The Row engine idling. They make such a compelling case with their aspirational aesthetic that we want to get as close to it as possible, and if we can’t duplicate their outfit, the next best thing is to buy something they’ve designed, right?

Some images that inspired purchases:




The next two images reassured me of past purchases:


They acquire very little but accomplish a lot, don’t they? So, what if we all embraced the Olsen shopping diet? What if we blended the best bits of our existing wardrobe and sprinkled in a wee bit of newness? Let’s take it one step further - what if we restricted our purchases to the carefully considered pieces the Olsens picked up for themselves? Imagine the savings!
I’m pretty pleased right now — this plan is genius. And who cares that the likelihood of adhering to it is less than 1%? At the very least, I’ve entertained myself and hopefully given you something to consider: channel your inner Olsen, buy less Row, wear it well.
N xo


I truly respect what they’ve done w The Row and think many pieces are just gorgeous! BUT (lol) to me, none of it comes *close* to the magic of their own personal style. And it’s because they genuinely mix from different brands, vintage, new, etc - so many “viral” outfits from celebs who wear head to toe full TR looks are just too easily replicable/a bit flavorless to me? I’m not interested in that so much. I *am* interested in how Ashley wears her Celine knot slides with and without socks, how Mary-Kate wears that vintage velvet duster, etc. It’s literally made me want similar pieces when neither are really my style! Their power is in their taste. The Row is gorgeous and I do love my pieces (and even when sometimes winds up not working out, it’s never been because it’s poorly made/designed), but it’s definitely their personal style that I am addicted to!!
I want to rebrand and decide that waffling back and forth, considering reconsidering, buying and selling is part of a “respectable” hobby (say, stamp collecting or first editions). Which also includes the joy of reading and talking all about it with you!