This Is Why Serenade’s Outfits Always Look Flawless With Her Miu Miu Classic Bag
In an age where trends change as fast as the seasons, the word Serenade is synonymous with style, elegance and charisma. She is not a traditional celebrity and she does not put her clothes in a spread on the cover of a magazine. She’s not that kind of woman. Instead, she’s the one you notice walking by—elegant, composed, wearing clothes with such confidence that you look at her and wonder how she gets it right all the time. Her clothes are not crammed with labels or fancy things. It’s the product of careful curation, featuring tons of thoughtfully chosen pieces that represent her calm, confident aesthetic.
Serenade has so many accessories, but the one that really enhances her wardrobe the most is her miu miu classic. It doesn’t just look good, either; it feels plausible and its very nature helps hold her outfit together. Wear it with other kinds of tailoring (or a sharp blazer and wide-legged trousers, the kind you’d wear to a meeting, say) and it slots neatly into the equation. That’s the magic of her style—versatility that doesn’t sacrifice a thing. The bag itself, both structured yet soft, is reflective of Serenade’s taste in clothing. It doesn’t vie with her clothes; it complements them. And while she gets lots of questions about how she always seems to match so neatly, her answer is consistent: “It boils down to balance.” If you know who you are, your clothes and bag will follow.’
Serenade’s mornings begin without drama. Classical music quietly drifts through her apartment, accented by the smell of fresh coffee. Her wardrobe, a properly aligned assortment of wardrobe staples in neutral shades—ivory silk blouses, flattering denim, beige knits, tailored black dresses. But despite the straightforwardness, it is not lackluster in the least. Every garment is multifunctional and when they are worn together, there are endless outfitting opportunities. This is perhaps because not a minute is wasted fighting with limited options, but rather getting dressed in the morning takes all of ten minutes for her since each piece is truly an extension of her lifestyle—easy, chic and just enough structure to ensure she appears polished. And more often than not, her hand subconsciously drifts to that one accessory that completes the look.
What’s interesting is that the miu miu classic bag never seems to define her look–it’s just hangs with her, no matter what she’s wearing. This morning, she threw a camel-colored trench coat over a sage green linen dress and slipped into a no-nonsense pair of ivory ankle boots. It was a low-key look but everything seems to be in just the right place here. The bag hung at her side as she walked down the city’s cobblestone alleys, enjoying the little compliments given her by those who saw her without even making a show of herself. In fact, the ensemble could have been plucked from a Parisian editorial. But of course, it wasn’t, throwing on the outfit took a mere few moments before she headed out of her apartment.
There’s a discipline to Serenade’s style. She’s never underdressed, nor does she chase trends to be trendy. Instead she finds modernity in timelessness. Her closet is reflective of a woman who knows silhouette and proportion. She might don a loose cream sweater tucked into high-rise trousers one day or a sleeveless shift dress under a cropped wool jacket the next. What unifies each look is a language of texture, silhouette and tone, a language spoken fluently by her miu miu classic bag. https://www.bniox.com/products/miu-miu-bags
Friends joke about how unflappable Serenade appears amid the chaos as everyone else scrambles to look right before an event. But instead of swapping her shoes or second-guessing her accessories, she is cool as a cucumber, already in her outfit and sipping tea. At one dinner party, a classmate commented favorably on her navy silk jumpsuit, adding that it looked like it was made especially for her. Serenade smiled and thanked them, however, in the back of her mind, known that it wasn’t so much the article of clothing. It was about how she wore them—with bearing, with nonchalance, with accessories that knew their place in the picture.
Certainly there were times when Serenade did some experimenting. She loved fashion, after all. She experimented with prints and statement pieces and sometimes wore her sister’s daring heels. But even at those moments, the whole never strayed very far from her earthy ideal. Perhaps her secret lay in the fact that she never allowed any one piece to overpower the others. She knew that elegance doesn’t shout—it murmurs softly, with authority.
One afternoon, during the golden hour in which the whole town took on a warm golden tone, out of sight of a lively road with its shops lined up side by side, Serenade took a walk along the street of boutique shops. She wore a pleated ivory skirt, a lavender blouse with dainty piping at the cuffs and a cropped gray blazer. She was not conspicuous to passersby by any ostentation, but all was in such perfect peace and harmony, even in her station. It wasn’t simply about her clothes, her accessories or even the way she walked—it was all of that taken together, each element in dialogue with the others.
She entered a shop that sold fine, sustainable clothing. The lady of the house, who once before had seen Serenade, met her with a smile. “You literally have the type of style (which I love) that makes everything in this store feel like it belongs to you,” she said, gratefully. “Hopefully that’s the idea,” Serenade chuckled and answered. If I buy something, I want it to feel like I’ve owned it for forever.”
That philosophy applied not just to her clothes. Serenade’s apartment was an extension of her wardrobe—clean lines, soothing tones and pieces that had meaning for her. There were no leftover corners, no unloved gewgaws. And every object, every book, every piece of clothing had a story, a purpose or both. That intention was reflected in the way she shopped. She wasn’t reckless; she was wise. If she didn’t see herself wearing an item over and over again, she left it on the rack.
It was this intentionality that made her way of dressing respectable. She didn’t need (and never did) to buy more to feel fashionable. Or, rather, she saw the things she already owned with new eyes and played with new combinations, layered for new texture or threw on a completely new pair of earrings to change the mood of an outfit. The closet was huge not, but full of the potential for greatness. She was interested in durability, not novelty and she trusted her intuitions to steer her in the right direction.
Even on casual days, when Serenade was in oversize knits and slip-on loafers, she carried herself as someone who knew exactly who she was. Excerpted from “Silk flowers were the only nights of sleep, “the Oct. 17th entry in The Times’ Critical Shopper column: For her, fashion wasn’t a performance across the skin. It was an inner confidence that found a way outward, subtly. That’s why even in her most casual of wears—say, denim and a cotton shirt—she ended up looking different. There was thought in the fit, the fabric, the way the sleeves cuffed just so, the hem hanging just so.
So it’s not very surprising that Serenade ended up somewhat of an unspoken style icon among her circles. Not because she wore anything the others couldn’t afford but because she wore everything as if it had been made for her. Her artful fusion of form and function, of beauty and utility, encouraged those around her to think more thoughtfully about their wardrobes. Friends started to declutter their closets, invest in what they loved and think in terms of quality rather than quantity. You can blame it all on Serenade making it look like second nature.
Serenade wasn’t really very fancy, herself, in point of fact. She simply valued self-respect and felt that dressing was one of the innumerable ways one expresses care for oneself. She never imposed her will on others or judged them by what they wore. Instead, she led by example, proving fashion can be quiet and still say something. Her method was quiet, stripped down and profoundly genuine.
And all year long—summer linens, fall layers, winter coats, spring florals—her look was always her look. One common thread ran through it all: a sense of grounded beauty and the awareness that when something suits your life and values, it suits everything else as well.
