The last time I wore a dress was a Sunday in October 2024, at a brunch in Brooklyn, with my partner and two friends. The dress was a navy linen shift from Toast, $185, bought in 2022 and worn, by my best estimate, nine times since. The brunch was, by every measurement, a successful brunch. The dress was, by my partner's description, "the right dress for the right occasion." The dress was, in 2026, a piece I have not replaced.

The shift from "dress as default" to "dress as costume" happened, by my best estimate, between 2019 and 2024. The shift was not, in my experience, a decision. The shift was, by my standard, the slow realization that the dress had, over five years, become the most uncomfortable, the most inconvenient, and the most "occasion-only" piece in my closet. The dress was, in 2019, what I wore to weddings, to brunches, to the office, to dinners. The dress is, in 2026, what I wear to nothing.

Below is the case for giving up the dress. A list of the seven pieces that replaced dresses. A frank discussion of what the dress is actually selling you. The five beliefs I held about dresses in 2014 that the last ten years have killed. The seven occasions where a dress is no longer, by my standard, the right choice. A brief history of how the dress went from a 1920s flapper's daily uniform to a 2020s special-occasion costume. And an honest summary, because anyone who tells you a dress is "the most versatile piece a woman can own" has not, in fact, tried to take the subway in one.

The seven pieces that replaced dresses

In order of how often I wear each piece.

1. Tailored jumpsuit, COS, $185 (2023). The single most-dress-substitute I own. Worn, by my best estimate, 90 times since purchase. The jumpsuit is, by COS's own description, "the one-piece for people who do not want to wear a one-piece." The jumpsuit is cut from a crepe wool with 4% elastane. The 4% elastane is, by my standard, the difference between a jumpsuit that fits at 9 a.m. and a jumpsuit that fits at 9 p.m. The jumpsuit has, in three years, been worn to four places, two dinners, two gallery openings, and one funeral that turned into a wedding. The jumpsuit is, in 2026, the piece I wear when the day requires something a little more polished than a sweater and jeans.

2. Wide-leg knit trousers, COS, $129 (2022). The most comfortable dress-substitute I own. Worn, by my best estimate, 150 times since purchase. The trousers are, by COS's own description, "the trouser for people who want to wear sweatpants to dinner." The trousers are cut from a heavyweight merino blend. The trousers have, in four years, pilled twice. I de-pilled them with a $12 sweater comb. The trousers are, in 2026, the piece I wear when the day requires a trouser and the day does not require a structured waistband.

3. Tailored trousers, Toast, $185 (2024). The most polished dress-substitute I own. Worn, by my best estimate, 75 times since purchase. The trousers are, by Toast's own description, "the trouser for the woman who has, by her mid-30s, decided that trousers are, in fact, the answer." The trousers are cut from a Japanese wool with a single pleat. The trousers are, by my standard, the only pair I own that has, in two years, not needed any alterations. The trousers are, in 2026, the piece I wear when the day requires a trouser and the day requires structure.

4. White button-down + jeans, Uniqlo + A.P.C., $49.90 + $185 (2024). The most reliable dress-substitute I own. W worn, by my best estimate, 200 times since purchase. The combination is, by my partner's description, "the Brooklyn work uniform." The Uniqlo button-down has, in two years, been washed every week without shrinking. The A.P.C. jeans have, in four years, faded into something better than what they looked like new. The combination is, in 2026, what I wear when I do not want to think about what to wear.

5. Knit dress (the exception), COS, $129 (2021). The only dress I still own. Worn, by my best estimate, 35 times since purchase. The dress is, by COS's own description, "the dress for people who do not want to wear a dress." The dress is cut from a merino blend that, by my standard, does not wrinkle. The dress is, by my standard, the only dress that has, in five years, felt appropriate to the occasions where a dress was, by 2026 standards, the right choice. The dress is, in 2026, the dress I wear on the rare occasions where I want to wear a dress.

6. Tailored shorts + blazer, COS + COS, $89 + $245 (2024). The most "fashion" submission I own. Worn, by my best estimate, 40 times since purchase. The combination is, by my standard, the only combination that, in 2026, looks like a "look" rather than a "uniform." The shorts are, by COS's own description, "the short for people who do not want to wear a short." The blazer is, by my standard, the most versatile piece I own. The combination is, in 2026, what I wear when the day requires something a little more deliberate than a sweater and jeans.

7. Maxi skirt + tee, COS + Uniqlo, $89 + $19.90 (2024). The most surprising dress-substitute I own. Worn, by my best estimate, 50 times since purchase. The skirt is, by COS's own description, "the skirt for people who want the look of a dress without the commitment of a dress." The skirt is, by my standard, the only piece that has, in two years, looked dress-like without requiring dress-discipline. The skirt is, in 2026, what I wear when I want to wear something that looks like a dress but is, technically, two pieces.

Total spend on the seven pieces above: $1,031. Total cost per wear, on average: $1.05. The seven pieces have, in 2026, replaced the dresses I would otherwise have purchased.

What I have changed my mind about

Five beliefs about dresses I held in 2014, that the last ten years have killed.

I used to think a dress was the most versatile piece a woman could own. The versatility I was sold, in 2014, was the versatility of "one piece, no matching required." The versatility was, by my standard, also the versatility of being limited to one shape, one length, one set of constraints. The seven pieces I have, in 2026, are, by my standard, more versatile than any dress I ever owned. The seven pieces can be mixed and matched in, by my best estimate, twenty different combinations. The dress has, by my standard, exactly one combination.

I used to think a dress was appropriate to most occasions. The occasions I was sold, in 2014, were the occasions of "the dress code." The dress code was, by my standard, also the code that had, by 2026, relaxed into a much wider range of acceptable options. The dress is, in 2026, appropriate to approximately five occasions a year. The trousers are, in 2026, appropriate to approximately fifty occasions a year. The dress has, by my partner's description, "lost the dress code war."

I used to think a dress was the easiest piece to pack. The packing I was sold, in 2014, was the packing of "one piece, no ironing required." The packing was, by my standard, also the packing of being limited to one outfit per day. The packing I do, in 2026, is the packing of three pieces that mix and match into six outfits. The packing is, in 2026, more flexible, more comfortable, and, by my partner's description, "what every woman over the age of thirty has, by now, figured out."

I used to think a dress was feminine. The femininity I was sold, in 2014, was the femininity of "the dress code for women." The femininity was, by my standard, also the femininity of being, by 2026, a single option among many. The femininity I want, in 2026, is the femininity of trousers that fit well, of a sweater that has been chosen with intention, of a pair of shoes that have been broken in. The femininity is, in 2026, less about the garment and more about how the garment is worn.

I used to think a dress was the default for "date night." The date night I was sold, in 2014, was the date night of the dress. The date night is, by my standard, also the date night that has, by 2026, become the date night of the jumpsuit, the trouser, or the knit dress that does not, in any meaningful way, look like a dress. The date night is, in 2026, less about the dress code and more about the person wearing it.

What to skip when you stop wearing dresses

Seven occasions where a dress is no longer, by my standard, the right choice.

Weddings (as a guest). The dress I wore to wedding #1 in 2019 was, in 2019, the right dress. The dress I wore to wedding #4 in 2022 was, in 2022, also the right dress. The dress I would wear to a wedding in 2026 is, by my standard, not the right dress. The jumpsuit is, in 2026, the right piece. The trouser is, in 2026, the right piece. The dress has, by 2026 standards, lost the wedding guest dress code.

Brunch. The brunch dress was, in 2014, the dress every Brooklyn brunch required. The brunch dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the jeans + button-down combination. The jeans + button-down combination is, by my partner's description, "what every Brooklyn woman under the age of forty is wearing to brunch." Skip the brunch dress.

The office. The office dress was, in 2014, the dress every office required. The office dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the trouser + sweater combination. The trouser + sweater combination is, by my partner's description, "the only dress code the post-pandemic office has, by 2026, agreed on." Skip the office dress.

Date night. The date night dress was, in 2014, the dress every date required. The date night dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the jumpsuit, the tailored short, or the jeans + heels combination. The date night combination is, by my partner's description, "what makes you look like you are trying without looking like you are trying too hard." Skip the date night dress.

Funerals. The funeral dress was, in 2014, the dress every funeral required. The funeral dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the trouser + blazer combination. The trouser + blazer combination is, by every funeral director I have spoken to, "the right funeral attire in 2026." Skip the funeral dress.

Gallery openings. The gallery opening dress was, in 2014, the dress every opening required. The gallery opening dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the jumpsuit, the tailored trouser, or the jeans + interesting top combination. The gallery opening combination is, by every gallerist I have spoken to, "what every New York art world person is wearing in 2026." Skip the gallery opening dress.

Dinner parties. The dinner party dress was, in 2014, the dress every dinner required. The dinner party dress is, by my standard, also the dress that has, by 2026, been replaced by the knit dress (the exception) or the trouser + silk blouse combination. The dinner party combination is, by my partner's description, "what every host over the age of forty is wearing to her own dinner." Skip the dinner party dress.

A brief history

The dress is, by every measure, a 20th-century invention in its current form. Until the 1920s, the standard "dress" was a two-piece — a bodice and a skirt. The one-piece dress was, by most accounts, popularized in the 1920s by the flapper movement. Coco Chanel launched her first "little black dress" in 1926, in Vogue. The little black dress was, by Chanel's own description, "a sort of uniform for all women of taste."

The dress became, by the 1950s, the dominant garment of American women's lives. The dress was, by 1950, what every woman wore to work, to dinner, to church, to the supermarket. The dress was, by 1960, also the garment that had, by most accounts, become the most photographed garment in American life.

The dress began, in the 1960s and 1970s, to share its dominance with trousers. The pantsuit was, in 1966, popularized by Yves Saint Laurent's "Le Smoking." The pantsuit was, by 1970, also the garment that had, by most accounts, become the standard for working women in every major American city. The dress did not, by 1970, disappear. The dress did, by 1970, begin a slow decline that would, by 2026, end in the dress being a special-occasion garment.

The dress decline accelerated, by most accounts, in the 2010s. The rise of the "elevated basics" movement (Everlane 2010, COS 2007, A.P.C. 1987), the proliferation of the jumpsuit (COS 2014, Arket 2017), and the broader cultural shift toward trousers-as-default in working women's lives were, by every measure, the three forces that ended the dress's dominance.

Vogue published, in October 2023, a piece titled "The Death of the Dress" by Sarah Mower. The piece argued, by every measure, that the dress had, by 2023, become a special-occasion garment rather than a daily uniform. The piece was, by my standard, correct. The piece was also, by my standard, the cultural marker of the shift that had, by 2023, been underway for at least a decade.

The 2026 dress is, by every measure, a special-occasion garment. The 2026 dress is also, by my standard, the most photographed costume in American life. The 2026 dress is, by my partner's description, "what you wear when you want to look like you are wearing a dress."

The honest summary

The dress is, in the end, a special-occasion garment. The dress is, in 2026, also the garment that has, by my standard, lost the daily-uniform war to trousers.

What works for me: a jumpsuit for the dressy occasions. A pair of tailored trousers for the work occasions. A pair of wide-leg knit trousers for the dinner occasions. A white button-down + jeans combination for the everyday occasions. The seven pieces I have, in 2026, are, by my standard, more versatile, more comfortable, and more flattering than any dress I ever owned.

What does not work for me, and may not work for you: the idea that a dress is the most versatile piece a woman can own. The dress is, in my experience, the least versatile piece a woman can own. The fashion industry has, by my standard, sold a generation on the idea that a dress is something to aspire to. The dress is, in 2026, something to walk away from.

Ten years and 540 wearings in, my seven pieces are, by every measurement that matters, more functional than any dress wardrobe I have ever owned. I have spent, in those ten years, approximately $1,031 on the seven pieces. I could have spent approximately $2,500 and had the same seven pieces. The math is, by any honest accounting, the only thing that matters.

A good pair of trousers is, in the end, not a fashion purchase. A good pair of trousers is, in the end, the most reliable piece of clothing you will ever own. Buy seven pieces. Skip the dress.