Bazaar Editors on What Our Dads Taught Us About Style

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In honor of Father's Day, we're paying tribute to the men who showed us how to dress, how to appreciate music, and how to dig in to our personal obsessions

On Mother's Day, Bazaar's editors considered what we learned from our moms about fashion. But the men in our lives also imparted lessons about personal style -- some directly, some in more indirect ways. At Bazaar, we've always believed that fashion and the arts are in constant dialog, and for many of us, our first lessons in learning to love culture (especially music) came from our fathers. Then, of course, there are the dads who deeply appreciate clothes: the ones who taught us the power of a simple, well-made item or a statement-making signet ring.

Below, 12 Bazaar editors pay tribute to their dads in honor of Father's Day.

My dad is a renaissance man with many passions -- gardening and sustainability, chess, ocean life, sailing, grilling, and music. He's taught me so much about celebrating what makes you excited and relishing your interests, and he's given me an extensive music education. The greatest lesson he's given me about personal style really comes from what he's taught me about life as a whole -- to be comfortable and confident with your individuality, to be excited about who you are (or dress how you want to dress) rather than seek to fit in. One of my favorite memories of him took place on a perfect summer evening in 2022, when he wore a particularly preppy ensemble -- a navy collared knit shirt, a pullover Breton sweater tied around his shoulders, shorts, and boat shoes -- to rock out to a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert. I'll never forget the joy I felt in seeing my dad literally punch the air in glee dancing to "Can't Stop." The visual perfectly encapsulates my dad -- vibrant and one hundred percent original.

From showing me the power of uniform dressing to instilling my enduring love of hip-hop and jazz music, my dad has taught me many things over the years. But when it comes to fashion specifically, one of the best lessons I've learned from him is the importance of quality over quantity. While most days he opts for sturdy jeans with a T-shirt or crew from Martha's Vineyard's The Black Dog paired with a navy Yankees cap, he never fails to add a hint of flair to his outfits, usually by way of his signature gold Rolex watch. Now, whenever I put outfits together or buy a new accessory, I can't help but hear his words echo through my mind: "I may not have much, but what I do have is top of the line."

While I can't say that my dad really influenced my sense of style (although he was chuffed when I recently told him that the bungee-laced Salomon sneakers he obliviously owns are currently all the rage in Brooklyn), he undeniably shaped my love for the outdoors. Growing up, we were always hiking, biking, camping, and swimming; he was the person that taught me how to build a fire, handle rattle snakes and bears, and appreciate the privilege of having Colorado's Rocky Mountains as my backyard. He was -- and remains -- one of my best friends and heroes. Was his choice to wear acid wash jeans on a trail questionable? Yes. But it was the late 90s; I'll give him some slack.

My dad passed away in 2012, but there has not been a day since that I don't think about him. He was from a tiny island in the Caribbean, Carriacou, Grenada, and came to the US in the early '70s, and was an OB/GYN. So he was always dressed to the nines, even when he wasn't going to work. He loved clothes (shirts with cuff links, tie pins, and tailored blazers) and understated watches and simple jewelry -- as seen in this picture. That signet pinky ring that he is wearing, with his initials (which are also mine), I wear almost everyday on the middle finger of my left hand. The necklace that I am wearing in that picture, a gift from him, I still wear to this day. I definitely got my sense of style from him -- simple and classic and personal.

These days, my dad is committed to his sports team merch -- you truly will not catch him without his Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt or New York Yankees hat. But back in the '80s and '90s, before I was born, he was such a cool kid in graphic vintage tees, high-waisted jeans, and oversize gold-frame aviator eyeglasses. He's never cared too much about fashion, but his drawers are still full of the cashmere sweaters and funky tees he wore when he met my mom.

I think a big part of who I am comes from my dad. Our friends and family always tell us that my twin sister is more like my mom and that I am more like my dad -- and they're not wrong. And when it comes to my style, I always gravitated towards the pieces in my dad's closet more than my mom's. There was no real particular reason. I think I just liked the challenge of styling dramatically oversized menswear. Today, I am no longer living with my parents, but I've taken a few special pieces from my dad's closet with me and I'll cherish them forever.

Ever since I was little, my dad's love for American sportswear is something that has always resonated with me. He grew up in Maryland (and met my New York native mother, Joan G. Cohen, in law school there), and I think that had a preppy influence on how he approached getting dressed. It also inspired my style today, which is a combination of my parents aesthetics. He wears a suit to work every day, so when he's not in a suit, he's usually wearing a sporty ensemble, and back in the day he wore t-shirts and rugby polos -- which he's given to me since (the perfect vintage pieces!) He collects watches, and seeing him invest in timepieces over the years gave me an appreciation for their craftsmanship. It also taught me all about mixing a statement piece into a laid back minimal look -- in fashion we call that high-low!

My dad has always been one to champion function over fashion -- it's safe to say I got the love for the latter from my mother. However, when I was growing up, my dad was an avid soccer player and lover. He wore a uniform of Adidas Gazelles and shorts and whatever branded T-shirt had the fewest holes in it at the time. (Oh, the irony that that's become my off-duty uniform for Brooklyn Saturdays!) His presence is felt even more on my Spotify playlists in the form of old Nada Surf, Wilco, and The Monkees songs. His music obsession means he won't stop texting me about his new record player, but I can't say I mind the memories he's infused into so many great songs.

My dad would light up every room he walked into. His vivacious energy, kindness, and sense of humor made him a beloved father, brother, son, and friend to so many. I will always remember him wearing his signature Lacoste polos and vacation-style printed button-ups, some of which I still have to this day. It's been almost 20 years since he passed, and I can still remember his smile and his charm. Love you, Dad, and happy father's day.

My dad is a born aesthetic with great, unusual taste. He loves a bold color and has always made fearless style choices -- when my parents moved into their current house, he painted the living room aubergine and found a giant purple sofa to match. He majored in art history in college, and as soon as he retired a few years ago, he went right back to taking art history classes. When I was little, he'd take me to museums and say, "If you could bring home any painting in this room, which one would it be and why?" I remember the moment of epiphany when I figured out that there was no right answer; he just truly wanted to hear my point of view. It was a lesson in how to develop my own taste and how to articulate it -- skills that, amazingly, I get to use at work every single day.

This is a photo of me with my father, Michael, and his father, John. My grandfather was visiting us from New York for a week or two. It was my first time meeting him in-person after years of speaking over the phone. I think this photo shows how happy, proud, and loved I felt in that moment. Each of these men have contributed greatly to my passion for music and fashion, and for that (and much more) I am eternally grateful.

My dad and I express our style in different ways, but we have the same spunky flair at the end of the day. He definitely has his quirks, most of which I was lucky enough to inherit. I got his reddish hair, his love of the outdoors, his passion for writing, his musical ear for Fiona Apple and the Cocteau Twins, and his hoarder tendencies (but for me it's vintage dresses rather than '90s band tees). For all of this I am eternally grateful, though I am equally appreciative that my mom didn't listen to his name suggestions, or else you would be hearing from a Theodosia or Bufus Dixon.