

No wonder, then, that the wardrobe of Fezco, a high-school dropout turned drug dealer and the unlikely moral compass of the show, has such an impact. The go-to is a uniform of athletic sweats and teal-toned football jerseys, worn with checked overshirts, simple T-shirts and crisp Calvin Klein boxers. It lives on as the rock her wardrobe is built around, like a security blanket that keeps him close to her.įor the male characters, the clothes are more about blending in. It’s a simple piece with a tragic backstory, an heirloom that belonged to her late father, retrieved from the end of the bed when he died. Rue’s oversized heavy-gauge burgundy hoodie is one of the first clues that clothing plays a big part in the show’s narrative arcs. Her tomboy garb and make-up-free face suggest she’s dealing with something much darker. But the show revolves around Rue, whose dress sense jars markedly against all of them. Maddy’s 1980s body-hugging, cut-out high glamour, Jules’ sickly-sweet Sailor Moon look and Cassie’s memeable butter-wouldn’t-melt pastel hues come to mind. Set against the backdrop of a whirling, neon Southern Californian suburb in near-constant party mode, the looks worn by the female-led cast are picked from the niche corners of Instagram, vintage resale sites and anime.

But with Euphoria, her work is taken to new levels, complemented by the hair, make-up and special effects. She previously worked on Reservation Dogs, Mr Harmony Korine’s woozy feature Spring Breakers and Mid90s, Mr Jonah Hill’s directorial debut.

Euphoria’s costume designer, Ms Heidi Bivens, has a track record in bottling teen spirit.
