My Boyfriend's Favorite Shirt Is Now Mine—5 Ways I Style It
His classic Tom Ford button-down is the sartorial equivalent of a blank page.
There are few things more chic than a man’s perfectly tailored white shirt, particularly when it quietly migrates into your own wardrobe. My boyfriend’s Tom Ford version has done exactly that. What was once his is now, unapologetically, mine. And in my opinion, it lives a better life this way.
A great white shirt is fashion’s equivalent of a blank page. This one just happens to be cut with the kind of precision and intention that Tom Ford does so well: structured collar, impeccable cotton, a silhouette that is oversized but never sloppy. It’s generous without drowning me. Tailored without feeling corporate. The holy grail.
When I want to sharpen things further, I pair it with tailored trousers from Veronica Beard and finish the look with loafers, specifically my Chanel pair. The polish of the loafer against the masculine energy of the shirt creates that tension I’m always chasing. It’s classic, but there’s an edge to it. Boardroom-adjacent, but make it fashion.
With Tailored Trousers + Loafers
With Wide-Leg Denim
On days when comfort is the priority but polish is still non-negotiable, I reach for wide-leg denim from Citizens of Humanity. The volume of the jean plays beautifully against the clean lines of the shirt. It’s relaxed, but not lazy. Effortless, but considered.
With Layers and Flares
For a more layered moment, I love slipping the shirt under a cashmere sweater, allowing the collar and cuffs to peek out with quiet authority. Add high-rise flares and boots from PAIRS Texas and suddenly the look leans slightly '70s, slightly intellectual, entirely intentional. The shirt becomes structure beneath softness, an anchor.
With High-Rise Jeans
My simplest styling formula is also my most reliable: the shirt, half-tucked into high-rise jeans from La Ligne. There’s something eternally right about crisp white cotton against structured denim. It feels minimal, intelligent, unfussy. Add a belt, roll the sleeves with intent (always mid-forearm, never accidental), and suddenly you look like you have strong opinions about art.
The beauty of this shirt is its adaptability. It bends to the mood of the day—tailored or undone, layered or standalone—while maintaining its inherent authority. It is proof that sometimes the smartest thing in your closet isn’t even technically yours.
So yes, thank you to my boyfriend’s shirt. I promise to return it eventually. Probably.
