Eugénie Trochu on the Art of Repeating Outfits

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Eugénie Trochu is a Who What Wear editor in residence known for her transformative work at Vogue France and her Substack newsletter, where she documents and shares new trends, her no-nonsense approach to fashion and style, plus other musings. She’s also working on her upcoming first book that explores fashion as a space of memory, projection, and reinvention.

For a long time, I believed that dressing well meant never repeating myself. Changing. Varying. Offering something new. Surprising. As if every outfit had to prove something. Spoiler: It’s exhausting. And often counterproductive.

Over time, and especially with the accumulation of images, I ended up realizing something very simple, almost brutal: the outfits that suit me best are also the most obvious ones.

Repetition, the Detail the Eye Loves

When you see yourself in photos, often, repeatedly, from every angle, you quickly realize that excess blurs the message. Too many statement pieces, too many references, too many intentions eventually cancel each other out. By contrast, a repeated silhouette creates a signature. It becomes recognizable. Almost reassuring. That’s exactly why the most stylish women seem to wear “the same thing all the time.” Because, technically, they do.

Change the Detail, Not the Equation

Repetition doesn’t mean stagnation. It relies on a very simple mechanism: Keep the structure; vary just one element. A different pair of shoes. A belt, a scarf, tied or not. Jacket sleeves pushed up or left long. A coat that’s more severe, or more enveloping.

Even the Icons Repeat (Especially Them)

What’s fascinating is that this strategy is shared by women with no budgetary constraints whatsoever. Victoria Beckham is a textbook case: same lines, same volumes, same lengths, season after season. Kendall Jenner, in a more minimal, functional register, applies exactly the same principle. Anna Wintour has turned repetition into a personal manifesto. Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle, Keira Knightley have all embraced rewearing—at the risk of criticism before turning it into a marker of modernity.

And then there’s Diana. That famous Catherine Walker dress worn in 1989, then again in 1992, taken apart, paired with trousers, reinterpreted. The same garment, but a different narrative.