Out From Behind the Paywall: White Wedding Dresses Suck and Hercule Poirot is the Key to Summer Dressing
Inflammatory takes and '30s beachwear, now free for all.
Hello everyone! To tide you over until my next post, which I promise will be a banger, I am unleashing two of my (and, apparently, your) FAVORITE POSTS OF ALL TIME from behind the paywall! Now they’re free! And they’re even seasonally relevant! First, last year’s infamous screed, “I Hate a White Wedding Dress,” a belief I stand by perhaps even more strongly four seasons later, for all you prospective brides, grooms, and nonbinary brooms out there who give a fuck about my perspective as a random hater! Second, “How to Dress Like a Hercule Poirot Character: Summer Riviera Edition,” to this day my most well-researched and exciting piece on both ‘30s fashion and summer stylings that BEG for your attention in these dog days of SS26.
IMPORTANT NOTE: Infuriatingly, especially in the wedding dress post, all the Instagram embedding that Substack used to let us do before it leaned fully into fascism and inconvenience has left some awkward gaps where photos used to be—please feel free to respond to this email with any questions as to references or sources and I’ll do my best to hook you up. Please excuse any dead links for the same reason.
If you like these posts, please let me know by liking and commenting here or on Esque’s Instagram, subbing to the Esque Substack (this) for free, getting bonus posts for five bucks a month, or for ZERO DOLLARS, share (tag me if on IG so I can see and thank you)! If you share with three friends (or enemies), you’ll automatically get a free month’s subscription to Esque’s paywalled posts. If you buy anything from an Esque link, there’s a chance I’ll earn a percentage commission at no cost to you—if you end up inspired by anything below, please send over a photo of your new togs by replying to this email and I’ll comp you a month of Esque!
If you cannot afford the $5/month, I totally understand—respond to any of my email sends and I will set you up with a $1.50 subscription or comp you, whatever you need. Esque is for everyone!
Thank you SO MUCH for your support, whatever you are able and willing to do to help is extremely valuable to me and I’m honored to be a small part of your life on the web.
I had a dream last night in which I was getting married (I don’t know to whom), and my entire extended family showed up (I should have known it was a dream by that fact alone), but I had nothing to wear—I rummaged through a bag of wrinkled clothes, trying to cobble together a reasonable look out of what seemed to be cheapo trend pieces vaguely resembling clothes I’d actually wear, the kind a well-meaning older person would buy me on Shein—I remember resigning myself to a bright teal button-down with ruffled pads on the bust, kind of like this top by By Fonseca (thanks to Dione Davis for reminding me where I’d seen it!):
Was this my “something blue?” It was much uglier in the dream—I’m looking at this and kind of wanting to wear it to a wedding now…
All I remember other than that was refusing, even in dreamland, to wear a white dress from the bag for the wedding.
I’m not going to lie, I feel like there’s something irrevocably demeaning about the white dress. It can be beautiful, delicious, even, but at the end of the day, one simply cannot divorce a white wedding dress from patriarchal lineages of the heterosexual virginity fetish. No matter how much you punk it up, no matter how gay you and your partner are, no matter if you wear a suit or a whale tale, the wedding white will always signal an attachment, though it may simply be nostalgic, to a tradition with frankly creepy origins. I have never seen a bride wearing white and thought they looked particularly empowered. I know this is an incredibly personal and complicated conversation to present as a one-sided polemic, but this is my blog, so I’m gonna level with you all!
Since you can’t escape the undeniable implications of oppression and adherence to patriarchal tradition while wearing a white wedding dress, the most successful, compelling, and straight-up beautiful I’ve seen all employ a sense of humor to foment and complicate the icon of the white dress. Below are several I do feel extreme tenderness toward, though you still won’t catch me getting married in one—I would love to own most of these for other occasions, though, and I’m not ruling out a Sheena Ringo-esque photoshoot on a subway.
Note: If you got/are getting married in a white wedding dress, you’re probably still cool! This is just my personal peeve. Peeve is a great pet name, btw
One of the most subtle but deeply gorgeous (I’d wear this ANY DAY but my own wedding) executions of this I’ve seen to date is this one by Lucille Reynolds:
For more on the pannier resurgence, visit I <3 Mess, but what I see here that excites me are a) the fact that the dress is a custom 1/1 b) the shredded skirt hanging thickly off of the c) hula-hoopish hips while the crinkled bodice is d) layered under a pointy-tipped corset-like bodice. All together, these aspects comprise a dress that seems straight from a fairytale—as in it looks like mice assembled it, it can take an evil stepmother’s beating and still look resplendent, and it’d kill on a dance floor.
The dress is delicate but unfussy—I wouldn’t be as terrified to stain or tear it as I would, say, a Danielle Frankel. It is a sculpture in and of itself but it doesn’t dominate the wearer, it looks romantic but gives the bride a built-in circumference of personal space, and it reads as so incredibly comfortable compared to the off-the-shoulder or long-sleeved dresses that seem to require constant adjustment. Whoever styled the creamy corset over the dress (Reynolds I assume) deserves a freaking Nobel prize. The way it adds a whole dimension, making the gown look both more dramatic and more hardy without sacrificing any refinement? The pair looks so supportive I doubt a bra is even necessary. I think this dress, both with and without the bodice topper, is one of the best dresses of any color I’ve seen in my entire life, and a large reason as to why that is is it allows itself to be a little cheeky, with a skirt like rain sliding in sheets off a parasol and a devilishly pointed bodice neckline. Bravo.
The entire new Cawley bridal line is undeniably gorgeous, with rich silk dupion and sculpted ruffles abounding (N.B. I reported this week on the fact that ruffle stocks will be up in 2025 in my new role as News Editor at Haloscope). Katie Merchant (above) wears the label well—the ideal city hall skirt suit NEEDS a touch of “sexy secretary in Whoville” to not look like bleak Banana Republic sponcon, and this is a job well done. I almost wish there were one more layer—a lace petticoat just peeking out from under the skirt in optic white to vibrate against its creaminess. As for dresses, these two I’d wear, again, any day other than my wedding:
Perfectly body-obscuring proportions, perfect boat neck that reminds me of this p e r f e c t (i luv to rite) dress from Nosferatu which I will not be seeing:
The ruffle at the squared-off neckline genuinely made me shriek with lust. Is that anything like the plot of Nosferatu?
More ruffles! These are crunchy but almost lasagna-like in their wheaty color and pinchy layers. Great functional bows at the shoulders, too (I will not wear a bow unless it’s functional, I’ve decided), and pairing it with a sailor hat should be illegal—too damn cute.
I just think there are plenty more fits in the Cawley canon that would be lovely for a wedding and aren’t a shade of white, cream, or ivory.
Continuing the trend of extreme volume, if you’re going to evoke the Young Girl (virgin) at the altar, why not go FULL BABYDOLL? I’m only half kidding, as I love this Vaquera number that I believe is now sold out (though the cute rosette ankle monitor case [it’s just a pouch] is $545 at SSENSE and I think we will see huge ankle adornments get big this year. A great way to balance out a poofy mini).
Stylist Rachael Rodgers’ Vogue wedding was a two-parter—for a Vegas elopement, she wore a pretty straightforward, ironically conservative Christopher Kane dress, and I say ironic because for her “family wedding” in Italy, Rodgers wore an archival Vivienne Westwood bodice with a smirking baby (whose baby?) peeking out from a crown of frills over tight white capri leggings (this is a real “is it fashion or is she just skinny” moment, sadly). The part of her look I love is the two huge bows on either side of her head. I know I railed against non-functional bows just a few seconds ago, but I’m a complex person.
God, if more people did some weird, costume-y shit for their weddings (especially the reception—who cares?) the world would be a better place. Now the above I believe people of all body types would look insanely hot in, like a Věra Chytilová character who learns to pole dance.
Accessories can definitely add the missing element of chaos to a fairly traditional dress: The neckline and bust shape of Sophia Loren’s gown are hot, of course, but what has me really tickled is her frazzled, poofy veil worn behind, almost emanating from, her insane beehive (if that’s the right term for this ‘do).
These flowers look so weird on Sharon Tate’s hair? Am I wrong? Like, weird in a good way. Like little creatures. They look genuinely natural, as opposed to über-curated. I don’t understand how they’re sticking out of the very cute sleeve of the mod princess dress? INCREDIBLE double-strap shoes, too (Sandy Liang just woke up in a cold sweat).
I believe this designer makes custom pieces—I really like the idea of a dress with special words embroidered across the chest as a wedding talisman, and the red embroidery effectively “soils” the purity of the white dress (perfectly paired with red boots).
I love how most of the pictures of the bride in this dress are her alone because she can’t really snuggle up to her husband in it. A dress that makes your first kiss as spouses a logistical challenge? Brilliant. Also brilliant to carry flowers that mimic the dress’ sponginess. Are those tulle muffs around the hands, too? This woman is really relentless, and I love it. I would never guess the dress’ designers in a million years: Pucci x Tomo Koizumi? Ok!
I mentioned this dress a few weeks ago, specifically how much I liked that it looked like a swarm of bugs, and I stand by that.
Red is one of the best colors for a wedding dress, I believe—not only is it considered auspicious in multiple cultures (Chinese wedding dresses are often red), but it directly sullies the virginal aesthetic by presenting blood instead of white sheets as visual metaphor. This Caroline Hú dress is definitely on my short list of “if you could only wear one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?” Styling it with knee-high, lace-up white boots was absolutely correct, as was a close-to-the-scalp hairstyle.
This was the color of the shirt in the dream I mentioned above! What does it all mean?
This Steve O Smith number looks like the Met Gala version of playing a tree in your 6th grade production of Macbeth (in a good way). It takes the white dress and completely, utterly perverts it into this freaky sculpture. Love.
I am personally a huge advocate for the psychedelic muumuu for any and all occasions—Olivia Hussey looks so good here! I wouldn’t bat an eyelash if I saw this coming down the aisle, though I might be worried I accidentally barged into an amateur production of Hair instead of a wedding.
This is so boring in comparison… wait… that’s her father, right? (Ok I looked it up. That’s her husband. And get this. They were the same age) Maybe it’s something about the completely undone straight hair that feels both extremely serious and juvenile? See, the colored dress above is so much more forgiving—it does a lot more heavy lifting energetically, so your hair can do whatever and it’ll still work.
I think tiaras are grievously underutilized, but again, if you’re going to position yourself as the virginal princess bride, why not lean in? Two braids are also a startlingly unique bridal hairstyle—genuinely don’t think I’ve seen anything like this before.
Even a more subtle tiara-ish shape integrated into the veil is cute as hell!
I believe this would be called a “flapper veil” as it cuts across the forehead and looks distinctly 20s-ish, but let me know if there’s a more specific name for one that has two large adornments at either side over the ears. I will never wear a veil but I do LOVE this one, whatever it’s called. This specific veil is from John Paul Gaultier’s SS08 RTW collection—THEEE quintessential “boho” show, which had 13 bridal looks in total as its finale. Tons of inspiration to be gleaned and definitely no danger of it taking itself too seriously. I am dying for the glove situation—is the white leather fingerless glove lace-patterned too? These looks would KILL in a photo shoot like the ones I suggest below.
A summer wedding calls for a planet-sized straw hat paired with a lace dress and BRIGHT WHITE underwear. This is the boho boss fight.
This cute couple was all over the net a few months ago for the stroke of genius that is headphones over a veil—these are just noise-cancelers, but I think cramming a veil under any kind of over-ear headphones is a perfect look for a post-wedding or pre-honeymoon photo shoot, as expanded upon below. Very Princess Diaries.
One underrated way to add a dose of comedy to a white minidress is by adding weird tights—you can stuff them with random objects that somehow relate to your relationship a la the video above (it’s well worth a watch)…
…or grab a pair of these heartbreakingly gorgeous hand-painted ones for around $75.
Genius designer Hannah Freeke’s “strung out” pumps are an accessory that would take even the simplest ivory sheath to a completely new level of weird—controlled mess that hums with potential energy and lends the perfect amount of “wrong” to a too-”right” fit.
If you are dead set on a Danielle Frankel but want to imbue it with a spirit of whimsy, take a page from the “80s Hong Kong pre-wedding” style of wedding photography (largely based on the aesthetics of my beloved Wong Kar-wai) and get gussied up in your dress (or, for the shoots involving food, perhaps a thrifted alt) to take photos eating fast food…
…or popping a curb squat, riding a motorcycle… basically anything badass, subversive, or cheeky. Things you shouldn’t be doing in a wedding dress. I actually think these photos would be even cooler post-wedding, en route to the reception or honeymoon, flushed with overripe adrenaline, makeup starting to melt, hair askew.
For a daytime shoot, grab some insane props (I especially love the drawn-upon “space suit” and wish the dress had been doodled too) and just send it in a flower field.
Honestly, if and when I ever get married, I might just want to rustle up one of these tees from the late great Antoni & Alison’s FW02 show and a pair of jeans that, because it’ll be my wedding day, will magically fit perfectly. Now that’s a fairytale wedding.
Oh, and, if you (heaven forbid) get left at the altar, you MUST do your duty and have a Sheena Ringo consolation photo shoot:
Sorry—them’s the breaks!
Much love to you all and please don’t be offended by my ire—it’s society that vexes me, not you all! Us against the world, right?
<3 ESK
Though summer has been deliriously gorgeous here in the Pacific Northwest, the state of the world’s evil (especially the referendum on gay marriage in the US, defunding of so many essential programs, and continued heinous genocide by Israel of Palestine) and my personal finances have led me to seek solace in the wiles and witticisms of ITV’s Hercule Poirot series, starring the inimitable David Suchet as Detective Poirot, who minces about and fusses but eventually prevails in the face of evil and injustice, as we should all aspire to (if you want to follow suit, a ton of full episodes are available for free on D*ilymotion, but you didn’t hear that from me).
Suchet’s humane, persnickety, both childlike and mature portrayal of Agatha Christie’s famous detective has me under its spell once again (I periodically go through phases of watching mystery shows that tend to veer toward levity and charm—I abhor true crime and anything that smacks of its tragedy porn energy), but this time, I’ve been especially taken with the 1930s stylings so perfected by its costume teams.
I am no historian, and if you want a delightful, easy watch on the specific subject of how authentic the costuming in Poirot was (an authenticity largely hinging on the fact that its costumers took into account the way real people would lag behind or jump ahead of the times sartorially, just as we do today), this thirty minute video essay “POIROT” - A Celebration of Style by The Ultimate Fashion History (who I understand tragically passed away fairly young shortly after this video was released) is just the ticket, covering the idiosyncracies of each main character’s wardrobe, from Poirot’s stuffy-but-sweet suits and spats to Hastings’ rakishly trendy garb to Ms. Lemon’s chic sweater sets. The video also dives into Angels, the likely supplier for most of the show’s wardrobe over its near-25-year run, the ways different classes and social statuses dressed during the economically and militarily turbulent inter-war period, and much more, all delivered in a soothing, humorous tone. It’s a true must-watch for Poirot fans and if I don’t cite something that seems cite-worthy in this piece, attribute it to this video.
I am not going to attempt much historicity in this post, as that’s not really my forté (I recommend LEWIS'S for more thoughtful reading, as they are very much on the same page as me in regard to 30s summer style, which I mention in more detail below the paywall), and maybe another time I’ll get to the fashion of our three main characters, much of which is hard to stomach on 98 degree days in its flurry of layers and starch and herringbone. Today, I’m thinking about the style represented in episodes of the show such as Peril at End House, Evil Under the Sun, and the infamous Death on the Nile (I BESEECH you not to watch the G*l G*dot version), stories that take place in warmer months and places necessitating breezy, light dressing. Summer dressing in the 30s largely manifested in a style called “Summer Riviera”: a dreamy, sun-drenched aesthetic that blended continental leisurewear with the influence of ocean liner travel, colonial tourism, and a growing sense of modernity and motion in fashion. Think: wide-legged linen trousers, crisply belted shirtdresses, open-weave knits, and the omnipresent panama hat. In the dire economy of the 30s, Summer Riviera was an aspirational, coded sartorial language of elegance, affluence, and escapism.
Summer Riviera is characterized by:
Lightweight natural fabrics—lots of cotton, linen, and silk crepe.
Pastel and nautical color palettes—predominantly white, red, cream, navy, coral, and sun-bleached yellows.
Art Deco-inflected accessories—chunky bakelite bangles, geometric sunglasses, woven handbags, and wide-brimmed hats.
Resortwear made elegant—e.g. flowing halter jumpsuits and backless bias-cut dresses with matching bolero jackets.
You’ll find this sensibility lovingly rendered in Poirot episodes I mentioned above such as Evil Under the Sun, where linen suits mingle with lamé gowns, or Death on the Nile, where chiffon scarves trail dramatically on breezy boat decks. However, the look that sucked me into this aesthetic was featured for just a few brief minutes on the stunning character Nick in the beloved episode Peril at End House.
This jumpsuit (?) with its geometric cut-outs, twee buttons, nautical details and matching accessories (BRING BACK THE BOLERO!) captured my heart in its brief appearance and despite the fact that these are the best-quality screen grabs I could get. Looks like this one in Poirot are never purely decorative—they reflect each woman’s social standing, personality, and even on occasion their moral alignment. The femme fatale tends to wear something slightly askew (a slit that’s a bit too high, a shade of red that’s a bit too bold), while ingénues are dressed in airy florals and frothy pastels. Characters like Nick, who I will without spoiling anything say is a bit of both categories, take cues from each angle and often congeal the aesthetics into something we NEVER see on today’s runways, beaches, or city streets.
Nick’s jumpsuit led me down a path of patterns that would have been the ticket to less-affluent fashionistas who would typically make their own clothes or take requests to a seamstress:
I’m especially obsessed with the stripe-lined rain jacket (?) and the braided rope bows on the pink set (a take on bows that WOULDN’T feel miserably overwrought in 2025).
The nautical and military/colonial aspects of Summer Riviera lend themselves to more feminine dressers “borrowing from the boys” in a way hardly seen before the 30s. Poirot characters frequently play with androgyny in ways that might seem anachronistic but actually reflect the foment of gender norms in the inter-war period, such as this bit player in Death on the Nile:
Mostly, however, beach fashion in Poirot’s world is for being seen. Characters connect over outfit compliments (or underhanded disses), people wave Poirot over to hear their woes with enormous sunhats, and garments or accessories often play important roles in the mysteries at hand—an off-time watch or a missing sandal might be a vital clue that turns the case around for our perceptive hero. However, not everyone is as subtle as dear Hercule, so many iconic Summer Riviera styles are steeped in dramatics even as they accommodate comfort in sand, surf, and sun.
A few recurring pieces include:
Day dresses, jumpsuits, or sets with sailor collars or halter necks, interesting harness-like cut-outs secured with decorative buttons, or subtle polka dots:
Gratuitous buttons in general:
Sheer or patterned blouses tucked into (or tied above) high-waisted palazzo pants:
Chic “beach pyjamas” (that was a whole thing). Read the below Instagram’s caption for more:
Opulent accessories that often seem incongruous with their seaside setting, from parasols to statement brooches to artful turbans. The below is from the 1982 film version of Evil Under the Sun, not starring Suchet (so I’m not watching), but full of gorgeous costuming nonetheless:
Sun hats were particularly important for obvious functional reasons (in case you haven’t noticed, this is an overwhelmingly white aesthetic and those “adventurers” burned like bacon under their colonial suns), especially ones with East Asian influence (they, of course, use a different word beginning with O to describe this style in the series, and the appropriation extends into other garments, namely the omnipresent summer “kimono” robe):
Androgynous, nautical-inspired casuals:
Here is the Pinterest board with sources for each image, plus plenty more Poirot and otherwise looks that didn’t fit into this style or season. I believe this last look, possibly the one I’d most likely to wear (I adore the square neck and the tab hanging over the belt), is 30s Patou, and I know that because of the advice of a helpful Internet acquaintance:
You can imagine how excited I was when, just on the day of my writing this, the inimitable LEWIS'S, a bastion of taste and thoughtfulness in my sartorial scrolling time, posted several photos featuring this 30s Summer Riviera-era style, a selection of which I am reprinting below. They specifically mentioned Patou as a brand that defined Summer Riviera style and that should be looked to (and eBay alert-ed) by would-be emulators (like me).
It seems as though the above pic is from this cool article.
What does the Summer Riviera aesthetic tell us about Poirot? The above-referenced sunny episodes are often set in liminal, destabilizing spaces: holiday resorts, foreign locales, luxurious getaways where the rules of daily life are relaxed, and everyone is a little off-guard. Summer Riviera mirrors this perfectly—less armored than the severe tailoring of London, more prone to whimsy, and more vulnerable to cracks in the façade. A character might swan around in an adorable nautical number, but it won’t stop a betrayal at sunset. Someone might don a pastel seersucker suit and still harbor murderous intent.
And yet, despite the HIGH body count, these episodes never feel heavy. They are infused with a languid, bittersweet glamour—luxury with an edge, beauty tinged with danger. That, in a way, is the true legacy of the Summer Riviera style in Poirot: it dresses the part of peace and escape, but it never lets us forget what’s simmering underneath. It kind of sounds like the way we should be dressing at this exact moment in time, mid-August 2025, no?
Thanks for being here, I adore you! Stream Poirot on [redacted] sites! Because PBS HAS BEEN FUCKING DEFUNDED HAHAHAHAHa
<3 ESK
As a gal who wore a blue wedding dress, I couldn’t agree more- love this post!!
Makes me want to have another wedding just to take your style pointers. Or be an eternal Miss Havisham only like this!