A swarm of well-dressed devotees descended upon 676 Broadway in SoHo this past Sunday, Mother’s Day. Shortly before the event began at noon, the line of fans-cum-shoppers wrapped around the building twice, forming a human square within a human square which had been growing since the earliest shoppers arrived at 6 a.m.. Strands of fizzy, excited conversation filled the air and skin glistened from standing under the sun all morning. “What’s going on here?” a curious passerby would ask occasionally. “Chloë Sevigny,” someone would answer, looking up from whatever book they were reading, or pausing a chat amongst friends. Then, “She’s selling her clothes.”
In line, 30-year-old Quinn Wilson passed the time by leaning against a scaffolding structure and reading The White Album by Joan Didion. (“I’m way late,” Wilson said of reading the celebrated author for the first time.) Her friend had ventured off to purchase water from a nearby store because “I’m dehydrated as hell,” Wilson said. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never waited in line. Even for a sample sale.” When asked how much she planned to spend once inside, Wilson rolled her eyes and laughed. “Oh honey, I have an American Express card. So we don’t know. The limit does not exist. And it’s not because I’m necessarily a fan-girl. But I like good shit. And she has taste.”
Taste has been a defining characteristic of Chloë Sevigny’s persona on and off the screen. For over three decades now, the actor has been admired and praised for the cult-beloved films she’s starred in but also, overwhelmingly, for what she’s worn: micro mini skirts, pinafores, tiger-print tights, a Versace dress in the ’90s that Emily Ratajkowski reprised earlier this month, and many combinations that would look off-kilter on almost anyone else.
