The newest fashion trend in New York is— unironically, hyper-speciically—New York itself.

A FEW MONTHS ago, I met up with a friend who works in fashion for a socially distanced walk through Prospect Park. I noticed she was wearing a Yankees cap. Three years ago, she would have been dripping in Dries. “These days, it’s all I want to wear,” she said. I’m pretty sure she can’t name anybody on the team.

- Stella Bugbee

THANK YOU, DR. ZIZMOR

On a Zoom recently, a friend who definitely doesn’t follow fashion mentioned that he had been out buying pita bread and found himself momentarily paralyzed while looking at something pinned to the wall of the market, unable to answer a question in his head: Why do I covet this not particularly attractive T-shirt from Sahadi’s?

A woman I work with texted me a dating-profile pic in which a handsome bachelor named Matt kneels in a Fanelli’s shirt in front of a Cellino & Barnes advertisement. Gotta love a man who loves his hometown enough to steal a subway ad and pin it up in his apartment, amirite?

For me, the urge first came in the form of a vintage Milton Glaser New York Magazine logo sweatshirt, which blossomed into a deli bouquet of items from places like Nightmoves and Economy Candy. Soon I was buying $10 N.Y. hats from OK Uniform three at a time. In the fall, I started wearing a “baseball” cap from the Frick Collection. It’s a great hat, and I love it, but I haven’t even been to the Frick in years. At Christmas, I gave my son a royal-blue MoMA hoodie and then stole it for myself. What was going on? Why was I having this sudden desire to own the Russ & Daughters shirt Jake Gyllenhaal1 wore in the Handstand Challenge? Nevermore than three decades of living here had I let my closet be overrun by memorabilia.

I’m not the only one who’s succumbed to the sentiment.

“This year, I’ve definitely seen more people wearing things you can only find here,” Miyako Bellizzi 2 told me. Bellizzi is the costume designer known for the garish, ultraprecise style of