Sandy Liang is often inspired by groups of women who are matching—intentionally or not. “They don’t realize how beautiful they are when they’re standing together,” Liang said in her studio a few days before her spring runway presentation. She must have gotten a kick out of all the people attending her show, coordinating in their Sandy Liang low-rise pleated skirts, taffeta dresses, and pointe-shoe flats.
In light of the Baggu collaboration last month—which sold out so quickly that the accessories company released an apology on Instagram—and equally successful launches of ballet flats and Salomon sneakers in the past year, it feels as though Liang is transcending her if-you-know-you-know status. Her downtown-princess uniform has been so consistent that it’s now instantly recognizable. The fact that it’s often memed reinforces its cultural relevance. “That’s the internet—they’ll take something and run with it, and you don’t necessarily get to decide,” Liang said, adding that the fleece that made her famous in the 2010s is not at the forefront anymore, and she’s happy with that. “My vision of myself and the customer’s vision of me are aligned for the first time in a long time,” she explained. “For a while it was this fleece, and people thought of me as a fleece designer. Which I understand, but I’m happy with it now. I finally feel like I can actually grab two things—don’t even look—and then put my hair in a braid.”
Certainly, the additions for spring 2024 will fit in just fine. An image Liang returned to over and over was of the character Cecilia Lisbon in The Virgin Suicides. The troubled teen wears an ill-fitting vintage lace dress with sturdy dad sandals. (Makes sense, as for her wedding, Liang wore a custom dress and Merrells.) On the runway, when models weren’t wearing Liang ballet flats, they were in Teva wedge sandals. Mermaidcore and Y2K also featured in the collection via shell accessories, graphic tees, and one bedazzled miniskirt.
If there were two items that define Liang’s collection now the way the fleece used to, they would be pleated skirts and bows. Both were invigorated this season. The designer found herself drawn to a more corporate, working royal vision of a princess, with prim jackets and coordinating (if not exactly matching) skirts. Thankfully, the skirts were too mini or sheer or low-waisted for an actual state dinner. She also found a new way to subvert expectations via a twinset in a sheer, sparkly fabric (an homage to Britney Spears’s “Toxic”). As for the bows, Liang developed shoulder bags that look from afar like just a giant bow tied over the shoulder. Those seem like a hit in the making.
The collection closed with a bride in a mini sailor dress with an oversized collar, pleated skirt, and about a dozen bows on her person. Raucous applause followed, led by such front-row attendees as actors Lola Tung, Greta Lee, AnnaSophia Robb, and Rachel Sennott. Everything felt right, aligned, and—you could say—tied up in a bow.