I’m probably one of the last people on earth to watch Severance. And while I’ve only just finished the first series, I’ve already found myself sucked into the labyrinthine yet strangely aesthetic (just me?) world of Lumon.
Helly R, the show’s female protagonist, moves through the series in a conveyor belt of templatised outfits – think knitted roll-necks, tailored pencil skirts, sensible heels and shift dresses – that conveys a sort of copy and paste caricature of women’s workwear. “We had this idea that it’s cult-like, Lumon,” Severance’s costume designer Sarah Edwards told Vogue of the show’s approach to corporate fashion. “They’re oppressed by their clothing.”
Exaggerated though they may be, such office tropes will be all too familiar to the millions who spend the nine-to-five in a corporate environment. After all, in the real world, the role of a “uniform” is not merely to project professionalism, but also to create a certain level of conformity among those who wear it. It’s not exactly fertile ground for self-expression – but then, that’s sort of the point.
And yet beyond the strip lighting and the hum of computer monitors, a workwear revolution is underway – all thanks to a small yet mighty contingent of stylistically-starved women who are saying no to The Apprentice-esque jewel-toned suits and flesh-coloured tights, and yes to social media-friendly looks that challenge the status quo.
Scrolling through Kat’s (aka @katfromfinance) Instagram snaps – all Tabi loafers, long leather “Miss Trunchbull” gloves and deliberately awkward poses – it would be easy to assume she’s just emerged from a creative brainstorm at a Tiktok startup. The reality, as she puts it, is a little more “strip lights, screens and well-polished shoes”.
