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When I think back on my experiences watching the films of David Lynch, what I recall is—for lack of a better word—a mood. Actually, a few different moods: The eerie mundanity of Twin Peaks, the ravishing neo-noir of Blue Velvet, the twisted romance of Mulholland Drive, the uproarious spectacle of Wild at Heart. While all felt distinctly Lynch, it’s hard to pinpoint what, exactly, made them that way—their distinctive blend of humor and pathos? Of warmth and absurdity? The fine line between the mundane and the transcendent? It’s what makes the word “Lynchian” so useful yet so difficult to define, capturing as it does the singular vision of one of our most unique artists—and as critic David Ehrlich noted, what greater artistic legacy could one hope to leave than that?
In order to conjure up the myriad worlds of his imagination—often just like our own, but not quite—Lynch often relied on one of the most evocative (and undersung) tools in a director’s arsenal: the art of costume. Who can forget the sparkling black halterneck dress worn by Isabella Rossellini’s femme fatale lounge singer in Blue Velvet, or the prim cardigans worn by Naomi Watts in Muholland Drive as Betty, a wide-eyed, small-town girl arriving in Los Angeles for the first time? The subversive sweetness of Audrey Horne’s sweaters and schoolgirl plaid skirts in Twin Peaks, or the navy suits and beige overcoats worn in ever-so-slightly wrong proportions by Kyle Maclachlan’s Agent Cooper. Lynch was fascinated by the coded meanings of uniforms, but always presented them a little askew: The sartorial equivalent of the uncanny valley, it reflected his fascination with that which is perfect and pristine to the outside world, yet conceals a darker, more menacing core. He was a master of using style to create, well, substance.
It’s little wonder, then, that Lynch has served as a north star for fashion designers from all around the world. There are the more literal references, of course. Raf Simons, who soundtracked his fall 2008 show for Jil Sander with Angelo Badalamenti’s famous Twin Peaks score, even included stills of Laura Dern in Blue Velvet as patches on sweaters and leopard print coats—with Dern herself sitting on the front row. Rei Kawakubo’s spring 2016 collection for Comme des Garçons—which paid tribute to “powerful women who are misunderstood, but do good in the world,” a Lynchian archetype if ever there was one—saw reams of blue velvet manipulated into grotesque proportions with a warped kind of elegance. (The show featured Roy Orbison’s “Blue Velvet” booming from the speakers, of course.)
But you can also detect Lynch’s presence woven through the work of some of the most influential designers of the last few decades, from Simons’s Calvin Klein collections exploring the dark underbelly of American visual culture to the hodgepodge glamour of Alessandro Michele’s designs for Gucci, where the designer even paid tribute to Twin Peaks’ infamous Red Room with the set for his fall 2016 menswear show. (It’s not hard to imagine the Log Lady in head-to-toe Michele.) Meanwhile, Demna’s knack for corrupting utilitarian wardrobe staples has a clear antecedent in Lynch’s costumes—the designer even told Vogue’s Luke Leitch in 2017, after MacLachlan attended his memorable “dadcore” Balenciaga show in Paris’s Bois de Boulogne, that Agent Cooper was a mainstay on his moodboards.
And then there was Lynch’s own inimitable personal style, whether the leather bomber jackets and generously proportioned pants he wore as a young filmmaker, or his signature slouchy tailoring. (He was also never one to turn his nose up at the fashion world, collaborating with Humberto Leon and Carol Lim on the maze-like set and soundtrack for Kenzo’s fall 2014 show, and directing fragrance ads for Gucci and Calvin Klein.) Lynch’s preferred look? Slacks, a blazer, and a shirt buttoned to the top without a tie—meticulous, with a base note of the unexpected. Not unlike one of his films, then.
Here, Vogue takes a look back at some of the most stylish characters from across the late director’s legendary career—and admires a damn fine costume or two along the way.
Audrey Horne, Twin Peaks
When we first meet the fiery, troubled schoolgirl Audrey Horne, she’s being dropped off at Mount Si High School by her dad—and heads straight to her locker to switch from a pair of brogues to hot red heels. It’s a neat introduction to one of Twin Peaks’ most memorable performances, courtesy of Sherilyn Fenn, whose Heathers-core uniform of sweaters and plaid skirts have made her a quiet style icon—and a perennial Halloween costume favorite.
Lula Pace Fortune, Wild at Heart
There are plenty of hair-raising scenes in Wild at Heart, but Laura Dern’s bombshell wardrobe as the ferocious runaway Lula Pace Fortune is just as jaw-dropping as the moments of shocking violence and deranged, campy humor that have made the film a true cult classic. Thanks to the work of costume designer Amy Stofsky, Lula’s costumes—from her lacy black camisole dress with red heels and lipstick, to her unforgettable low-cut polka dot number, to her oh-so-’80s pink knit dress with a black belt slung over the top—remain some of the most memorable in Lynch’s entire oeuvre.
Rita, Mulholland Drive
As the mysterious Rita, a glamorous woman suffering from amnesia after a car crash, whose life becomes strangely intertwined with aspiring actress Betty, Laura Harring channels the spirit of heightened, febrile sexuality that courses through Mulholland Drive—and that slowly unfurls through her wardrobe of spaghetti-strap black dresses and crisp white button-downs. Is she a figment of Betty’s (or, later, Diane’s) imagination? Her wardrobe, overseen by costume designer Amy Stofsky, is certainly the stuff of Y2K dreams.
Dorothy Vallens, Blue Velvet
Isabella Rossellini’s breakout performance as Dorothy Vallens brilliantly captures a very Lynchian turning of an archetype on its head: She first appears as a femme fatale performing in slinky black dresses on the stage of the Slow Club, before returning home to change into a blue velvet robe—and then enduring her nightly horrific suffering at the hands of Dennis Hopper’s mobster, Frank Booth. Her costumes, designed by Patricia Norris, take the romance and the tragedy of Dorothy’s inner world and writ them large.
Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks
As Agent Dale Cooper, Kyle Machlachan was normcore before normcore was normcore. But there was, as always with Lynch, carefully considered reasoning behind his classic (and deliberately anonymous-feeling) FBI agent’s uniform of a navy suit and tie, and occasionally, a woolen overcoat or oversized trench coat. Not only does it serve as a jarring contrast to his eccentric quips and mannerisms, but as his wardrobe evolves throughout the series, it comes to represent his disintegrating sense of self. We’ll give a classic Cooper thumbs-up to that.
Lady Jessica, Dune
Lynch may have all but disowned Dune after battling with studio executives over the film’s final cut, but the sci-fi epic still serves as one of his most dazzling feats of costuming, thanks to the ingenious work of designer Bob Ringwood. And while Sting’s look as Feyd Reutha may deserve a shout-out (the orange hair! The baby oil!), the most spectacular outfits were reserved for Francesca Annis as Lady Jessica, whose goddess-like gowns and extraterrestrial couture—and elaborate hairstyles—make for some of the film’s most visually striking moments.
Sailor, Wild at Heart
Nicolas Cage has never looked cooler than his turn as Sailor in Wild at Heart, existing as the perfect sartorial foil to Dern’s Lula in his angular shades, black belted jeans, and, of course, that snakeskin blazer. (It’s so iconic, in fact, that it has served as the starting point for collections by Altuzzara and Khaite: spring 2017 and spring 2023 respectively, if you’re curious.)
Alice, Lost Highway
Playing double duty as both Renee Madison and Alice Wakefield in 1997’s head-spinning Lost Highway, Patricia Arquette delivers a killer performance of another Lynch femme fatale with a twist. Her wigs deserve a special mention—especially the disheveled Veronica Lake waves she wears as the eerie seductress Alice—but so do her costumes, from the red satin slip dress worn by Renee in the bedroom to the spectral all-white outfits worn by the sinister Alice.