A complete guide to its history and how to wear it

Fashion

There is something undeniably magnetic about the way old money dresses—an effortless sophistication that whispers rather than shouts. This aesthetic, once the exclusive domain of generational wealth, has found an unlikely new audience: Gen Z.

On TikTok, the hashtag #OldMoney has amassed over 2.5 billion views, with related tags like #OldMoneyAesthetic and #OldMoneyOutfits pulling in nearly a billion more. But this is not merely a fascination with wealth. It is a cultural shift, a rejection of excess in favor of restraint, and a longing for permanence in an era of disposable trends. To understand why this style resonates so deeply today, we must first trace its origins.

The roots of old money dressing stretch back centuries, to the aristocratic circles of Europe where clothing was less about fashion and more about legacy. Families like the Rothschilds and the Windsors built wardrobes designed to last—Savile Row suits, cashmere sweaters softened by decades of wear, pearls passed down through generations.

Their style was never loud; it was deliberate, understated, and above all, enduring. Across the Atlantic, American dynasties like the Rockefellers and the Kennedys adopted a similar approach. Think of Jackie Kennedy’s pillbox hats, JFK’s perfectly rumpled polo shirts, or the quiet glamour of Grace Kelly. These were not outfits assembled for a season but for a lifetime.

What makes this aesthetic so compelling now is not just its association with wealth but its inherent rejection of modern fashion’s excesses. In an age of fast fashion and viral micro-trends, the old money ethos offers an antidote: quality over quantity, subtlety over spectacle, timelessness over transience.

The rise of “quiet luxury” in pop culture, from the understated power dressing in Succession to Sofia Richie’s wedding wardrobe has only amplified its appeal. This is not about flaunting wealth but embodying a quieter, more assured kind of elegance.

Economic uncertainty has also played a role in this shift. With inflation and housing crises making traditional markers of success feel increasingly out of reach, Gen Z has turned to style as a form of aspirational expression. Unable to buy into the old money lifestyle, they are embracing its aesthetic, often through secondhand and vintage finds.

The principles of old money style are deceptively simple. Fabric is paramount. Wool, silk, cashmere, and linen, nothing synthetic or fleeting. The color palette leans on neutrals: creams, navy, camel, and black, ensuring every piece can be worn interchangeably. Tailoring is non-negotiable; even the most basic white shirt looks elevated when it fits perfectly. Logos are absent, because true luxury does not need to announce itself. And perhaps most tellingly, the real old money move is shopping as if your wardrobe is already an heirloom—opting for vintage, secondhand, and pieces that will outlast trends.

Swipe for finds that nail the ‘old money’ aesthetic

The true power of this style lies in its accessibility. You don’t need a trust fund to dress with intention—you just need to understand that real luxury isn’t about what you spend, but how you choose. And in that sense, the old money aesthetic might be the most democratic form of luxury we have left.