Liz graduated Magna Cum Laude from Dartmouth College. She earned an M.A. and a Ph.D. in Art History at the University of Virginia. Liz taught at UVA for many years and spent a year in Sweden as a Fulbright Scholar. As a contributing writer for Forbes, Liz shares her insights on the evolving landscape of college admissions.
Rugby Ralph Lauren (2004 to 2013) marketed a fantasy of college life.
The fantasy narrative in marketing is nothing new. Ivy Style founder Christian Chensvold wrote a terrific piece on this subject back in 2018, in which he states:
I miss Rugby. As in the Ralph Lauren brand that existed from 2004 to 2013. Rugby started to take off in August 2008 when it added e-commerce to its website. This was right when I was preparing to launch Ivy Style, so there was a sense of being part of a neo-prep zeitgeist, or what we came to call here the Ivy Trendwatch. I also ended up writing several pieces for Rugby’s blog. But what I really miss about Rugby is the styling: the fantasy narrative settings like Polo did for so long.
Dr. Stone’s article for Forbes seems to pick up right where Chensvold left off:
Loafers and rugby shirts, cable-knit sweaters, and collegiate stripes are back. This fall, the resurgence of Ivy style has moved from trend to something closer to a cultural motif… And a new generation is rediscovering Ralph Lauren’s rugby shirts, Polo caps, and other staples of classic American style.
So what’s new? Well, clearly not the clothes – which have been around for generations – but rather the irony of the modern age. The summary for the Forbes article highlights the paradox:
This trend emerges paradoxically as higher education faces intense scrutiny over costs, student debt, and AI’s impact. The article argues that while the aesthetic has privileged roots, the underlying desire for community and connection is universal. In an AI-driven era, college’s true value lies not in information, but in fostering mentorship, critical thinking, relationships, and a sense of belonging that technology cannot replicate. Colleges must prove these human experiences remain valuable and accessible.
Prior to the publication of her article, Liz reached out to me with some thought provoking interview questions. Here are her questions and my responses.
Liz Doe Stone: You’ve been documenting Ivy style and its history for years. Why do you think the aesthetic is resonating so strongly again right now, particularly with a younger generation?
Matthew Longcore: I recently completed a Ph.D. in Humanities, and I teach anthropology to young people at the University of Connecticut. The thematic question of my doctoral program was: What does it mean to be human in an age of advanced technology? What it means, for sure, is that we are living in a world that is changing at an unprecedented rate. Artificial Intelligence, the post-pandemic economy, the rise of distance learning and the remote workforce – these are factors which have made people more atomized and isolated from one another. People spend a lot of time in front of screens, and have become disconnected from one another. The high tech new world can be a lonely place. With the future filled with so much uncertainty, there is a natural inclination to take comfort in the past. Ivy style represents a nostalgic and idealized past.
“A letterman’s sweater: Exhibiting the school’s honor and the wearer’s achievements, the glorious letter ‘P’ on the sweater is given only to prominent athletes.’ (Take Ivy (1965) at Princeton University, pp. 64–65)
Liz Doe Stone: Ivy style has always been about more than clothes—it evokes campuses, libraries, clubs, traditions, friendships, and a particular vision of collegiate life. How important is that broader mythology of the American college experience to the enduring appeal of Ivy style?
Matthew Longcore: Ivy style clothing is part of the holistic collegiate experience, but the campus setting matters, too. My doctoral dissertation is about Collegiate Gothic architecture on American campuses. Beautiful campus buildings are the setting for the mythology of the American college experience, as described in collegiate stories such as This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Many college students today yearn for what they describe as a “Hogwarts” experience – an inspiring campus setting with grand libraries, ancient traditions, and social clubs that foster lasting friendships.
Students dining in Memorial Hall at Harvard University, often compared to Hogwarts.
Liz Doe Stone: At a moment when there is so much conversation about the ROI of a college degree, do you think the resurgence of collegiate style reflects a parallel nostalgia or desire for what college offers beyond the credential (the intellectual community, social experience, traditions, and sense of belonging)?
Matthew Longcore: Yes, definitely. Prior to my current position at Yale, I worked as an academic advisor, and everyone was hyper-focused on ROI. I think people are beginning to realize that the goal of college is not training in a purely technical sense but rather the development of highly transferable skills. In the 21st century, the skills we need include emotional intelligence (which is fostered by a highly social college environment), along with critical thinking skills (because we absolutely cannot rely on machines for this).
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) foreshadowed the potential dangers of artificial intelligence.
Liz Doe Stone: What do you think the continued fascination with Ivy style tells us about the cultural power of the American college experience itself?
Matthew Longcore: Ivy style tells us that the American Dream is alive and well. For some people, Ivy and preppy clothing is a style that they grew up with through privileged environments like boarding schools, but for most people it is an aspirational style. Ralph Lauren has built an entire empire based on the culture of aspiration. People buy these clothes because they want to be part of that world. Upward mobility includes getting a top notch education and becoming part of a rarefied post-graduate world. Ivy style represents a classic, timeless look. Each piece of clothing in an Ivy style wardrobe is a good investment. I would add that how we dress still matters in the world. When we feel good about our appearance, that confidence resonates with others.
Ralph Lauren has built an empire on the culture of aspiration and the American Dream.
It was the aspirational photography used in RL’s ads and the tongue-in-cheek ‘guidance’ to this then-fashion-learning writer that brought me to where I am today: fashion confident in all things Ivy with my preppy foundation.
This style, defined with some specificity, is extremely niche (always was), and, now that wealthy Americans have preferred/adopted many other looks (they always did), the correlation with an imagined (marketed) aristocratic lifestyle is misguided. I’d argue the current impetus isn’t aspiration (ambition) so much as nostalgia, which is essentially sentimental in spirit. This explains why you’ll see plenty of it on display at hipster coffee shops and restaurants in cities and Indie rock band concerts, but rarely at expensive, posh clubs and Ivy League campuses. When I catch a glimpse, I do not assume the person is rich; the safer guess is that he/she is an “old soul.”
S.E. – Your comment about nostalgia resonates with me. As a young man, I felt inexplicable nostalgia for a world that predated me by generations. History and literature gave me a glimpse into that world, but could never really explain why I felt so much more comfortable in the world of the past. The only explanation ever offered that made any sense to me is the same one you have described. This sense of nostalgia is the hallmark of an old soul.
To gently nudge the point, a few years ago a highly regarded clothier (Bob Prenner) observed that the American upper classes, presumably above such useless stuff, “ditched” (abandoned/renounced) the particularities of Ivy about as fast as they (their fathers) affirmed them — thus abandoning the style to the nostalgic few who appreciate it as something unique. Distinctive. Special.
Perhaps the clothes function sacramentally — calling to mind a better (not perfect, but still…) time when superior people led us forward, upward, onward. We “do this to remember,” and, almost liturgically, the button downed oxfords, tweed jackets, flannel suits, and repp ties serve as visible signs of a grace that, well, no longer abounds.
“Anemoia”: nostalgia for a time or place one never knew. The Polo ads of the 80s are an extreme, and extremely attractive, almost mythical example. I think a lot of us on this site have a fondness for a past which we may never have seen for ourselves, or perhaps glimpsed only in its waning days.
My clothes, like the music and books I am most drawn to, tend to have their roots in the time before the flower-power invasion that swept in around 1967. I was lucky enough to begin my career in the mid-to-late 80’s when the classic 3/2 sack suit, oxford shirt and repp tie still comprised a widely accepted, if perhaps not dominant, uniform in law firms and government offices, at least in Washington and New York, where I spent most of my time. Part of it may be simply being drawn to beautiful things, or things that seem beautiful to me.
And part is also what strikes me as a more adult time, when people looked like grow-ups, and did not seem to be grasping at adolescence. Ella Fitzgerald or Taylor Swift? Neither was on the charts when I was coming of age, and the latter has undoubtedly been more popular in recent years. However, I know what my choice will be for the cocktail hour tonight.
Bene dictum! The monetarily well-endowed are no longer also the well-heeled… they wear sneakers and athleisure wear to their galas and speaking engagements.
Arguably, one could say most Ivy style is the athleisure wear of yesteryear, with its mostly-sporting provenance. That being said, it sure looks a lot nicer than sweatpants and a T-shirt with Hoka sneakers!
To all of the above: I think that what we are observing in real time is the style differences between Old Money, the Noeveau Riche, and the even more Noeveau Riche.
As none of the above, I am “forced by choice”, that is, to choose that which is in good taste within more narrow parameters. For example, I dig the RL style, but not to the point of excess. The avertisements are not style guides, but are a one-shot catalogue of what is available in the line.
Most often less is more, while at the same time, iconoclasm is nothing more than virtue signaling, or nonconformity, or a bragging opportunity. (The tech-billionaire in a gym suit who’s above the rules).
So, if a business suit is appropriate, wear one. And if you wear one, wear a good one, if you can find a good one. (I know, good luck with that.)
If business casual is appropriate, err on the side of maturity. If it’s a social occasion, lighten up, but know that every social occasion is likely not a costume party.
Usually, a business suit for 9 to 5, switching to an odd coat and tie for dinner out will do just fine. For school, dress for the weather. Heavy coat with a skirt? Please. Cleary just a means to advertise the available pieces.
I have a motto “don’t pave the cow path” the cows aren’t going to produce more milk if it’s paved. Don’t glitz it up.I like to think of IVY STYLE as old school. I think Ralph Lauren paves the cow path compared to old school. His ads are a little over the top. To many clothes on one person. My days of old school are a unlined and unfused collar and cuff on anOCBD shirt, a Navy blue blazer in soft shoulder or wonderful “horse blanket ” shetland tweed sport coat with a navy blue knit tie( Sam Rosenthal of Rosenthal Maritz always wore the knit tie with a gold safety pin as a tie clip but not attached to the shirt) gray flannel cuffed pants and Alden loafers. and a camel hair double breasted polo coat withe belt in the back. I still have my father’s from Clipp. It’s funny the boarding school I went to would have Yardleys and Gillett come out once a week and teach the boys how to shave with a DE razor and a wooden bowel with shaving soap and brush. I still use those today.
Excellent reading material, as usual.
Thank you.
Hear, hear!
It was the aspirational photography used in RL’s ads and the tongue-in-cheek ‘guidance’ to this then-fashion-learning writer that brought me to where I am today: fashion confident in all things Ivy with my preppy foundation.
This style, defined with some specificity, is extremely niche (always was), and, now that wealthy Americans have preferred/adopted many other looks (they always did), the correlation with an imagined (marketed) aristocratic lifestyle is misguided. I’d argue the current impetus isn’t aspiration (ambition) so much as nostalgia, which is essentially sentimental in spirit. This explains why you’ll see plenty of it on display at hipster coffee shops and restaurants in cities and Indie rock band concerts, but rarely at expensive, posh clubs and Ivy League campuses. When I catch a glimpse, I do not assume the person is rich; the safer guess is that he/she is an “old soul.”
S.E. – Your comment about nostalgia resonates with me. As a young man, I felt inexplicable nostalgia for a world that predated me by generations. History and literature gave me a glimpse into that world, but could never really explain why I felt so much more comfortable in the world of the past. The only explanation ever offered that made any sense to me is the same one you have described. This sense of nostalgia is the hallmark of an old soul.
Indeed.
To gently nudge the point, a few years ago a highly regarded clothier (Bob Prenner) observed that the American upper classes, presumably above such useless stuff, “ditched” (abandoned/renounced) the particularities of Ivy about as fast as they (their fathers) affirmed them — thus abandoning the style to the nostalgic few who appreciate it as something unique. Distinctive. Special.
Perhaps the clothes function sacramentally — calling to mind a better (not perfect, but still…) time when superior people led us forward, upward, onward. We “do this to remember,” and, almost liturgically, the button downed oxfords, tweed jackets, flannel suits, and repp ties serve as visible signs of a grace that, well, no longer abounds.
“Anemoia”: nostalgia for a time or place one never knew. The Polo ads of the 80s are an extreme, and extremely attractive, almost mythical example. I think a lot of us on this site have a fondness for a past which we may never have seen for ourselves, or perhaps glimpsed only in its waning days.
My clothes, like the music and books I am most drawn to, tend to have their roots in the time before the flower-power invasion that swept in around 1967. I was lucky enough to begin my career in the mid-to-late 80’s when the classic 3/2 sack suit, oxford shirt and repp tie still comprised a widely accepted, if perhaps not dominant, uniform in law firms and government offices, at least in Washington and New York, where I spent most of my time. Part of it may be simply being drawn to beautiful things, or things that seem beautiful to me.
And part is also what strikes me as a more adult time, when people looked like grow-ups, and did not seem to be grasping at adolescence. Ella Fitzgerald or Taylor Swift? Neither was on the charts when I was coming of age, and the latter has undoubtedly been more popular in recent years. However, I know what my choice will be for the cocktail hour tonight.
Bene dictum! The monetarily well-endowed are no longer also the well-heeled… they wear sneakers and athleisure wear to their galas and speaking engagements.
Arguably, one could say most Ivy style is the athleisure wear of yesteryear, with its mostly-sporting provenance. That being said, it sure looks a lot nicer than sweatpants and a T-shirt with Hoka sneakers!
To all of the above: I think that what we are observing in real time is the style differences between Old Money, the Noeveau Riche, and the even more Noeveau Riche.
As none of the above, I am “forced by choice”, that is, to choose that which is in good taste within more narrow parameters. For example, I dig the RL style, but not to the point of excess. The avertisements are not style guides, but are a one-shot catalogue of what is available in the line.
Most often less is more, while at the same time, iconoclasm is nothing more than virtue signaling, or nonconformity, or a bragging opportunity. (The tech-billionaire in a gym suit who’s above the rules).
So, if a business suit is appropriate, wear one. And if you wear one, wear a good one, if you can find a good one. (I know, good luck with that.)
If business casual is appropriate, err on the side of maturity. If it’s a social occasion, lighten up, but know that every social occasion is likely not a costume party.
Usually, a business suit for 9 to 5, switching to an odd coat and tie for dinner out will do just fine. For school, dress for the weather. Heavy coat with a skirt? Please. Cleary just a means to advertise the available pieces.
I know. I’m preaching to the choir.
I have a motto “don’t pave the cow path” the cows aren’t going to produce more milk if it’s paved. Don’t glitz it up.I like to think of IVY STYLE as old school. I think Ralph Lauren paves the cow path compared to old school. His ads are a little over the top. To many clothes on one person. My days of old school are a unlined and unfused collar and cuff on anOCBD shirt, a Navy blue blazer in soft shoulder or wonderful “horse blanket ” shetland tweed sport coat with a navy blue knit tie( Sam Rosenthal of Rosenthal Maritz always wore the knit tie with a gold safety pin as a tie clip but not attached to the shirt) gray flannel cuffed pants and Alden loafers. and a camel hair double breasted polo coat withe belt in the back. I still have my father’s from Clipp. It’s funny the boarding school I went to would have Yardleys and Gillett come out once a week and teach the boys how to shave with a DE razor and a wooden bowel with shaving soap and brush. I still use those today.