Seinfeld's Greatest Fashion Moments

Image via Complex Original

There’s at least a 60 percent chance this print shows up in the next Gitman Vintage x whoever the fuck collection. The oversized nautical iconography is bold and doubling down on brown is risky, but Kramer knows his shit and plays down the scale of the print with a flecked tweed. Or maybe I’m just projecting my dressing “knowledge” onto him. Dope shirt regardless, K-Man.

Jerry loves his brown suede bomber, but for some reason it has this wack and/or dope candystripe lining. He turns the jacket inside out to avoid getting rain on his suede, but Elaine’s old, white, establishment, republican dad isn’t trying to be seen with some fluffster in a pink jacket and makes him ruin the suede. It’s a sad tale with a strong moral: Don’t let the man hold you down. Rock that wacky lining like it’s yours. Plus, whoever made J’s coat was a forerunner of the recent trend toward all-reversible-everything. Flip it inside out even if it’s not really reversible. Whatever! Fashion!

Early season Elaine could stroll into an Urban Outfitters catalog shoot and not miss a beat. Florals? Check. Washed denim? Check. Scrunchies on the reg? Yurp. Before the writers decided Elaine needed a high paying job she was an icon of nonchalant '90s cool. Never forget.

I may not possess the womenswear acumen to accurately describe the type of dress Elaine has here in a busy floral print, but I guarantee this fabric has already been “upcycled” into a line of five-panel camp hats.

I didn’t know who Keith Hernandez was when I first saw this episode, and as baseball continues its slow decaying trot out of the public consciousness, future generations will know Hernandez only as the mustached hunk that came between Jerry and Elaine. But Hernandez’ two-part arc as the launcher of a magic loogie is one of the first and best celebrity appearances in the show’s legendary run. Shit, I didn’t mention clothes yet? The mustache counts as an accessory, right?

I always respected Elaine for rocking the Baltimore cap even while enjoying free tickets to a Yankees home game. In this episode we learn for the first time that Elaine is from Baltimore, which totally makes sense because (Insert stereotpe about people from Baltimore. I don’t know any man, I’ve only seen one season of The Wire.) Regardless, chicks in fitteds is usually a good move and the Orioles were actually relevant again in 2012.

Kramer gets his hands on the title piece from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and is mistaken for a pimp. Sunbursts, rainbows and a fur trim—you might not see it in the streets yet, but catch that combo in some luxurious post-post-menswear lookbook next year.

Teri Hatcher comes through looking like an American Apparel ad with the scoop neck body suit and mom jeans. We’re not mad though. Plus, Jerry’s quest to find out if her boobs were fake inspired the famous Kanye line, “I couldn’t tell you if Teri’s really real, but Jerr will let me know soon as he get a chance to feel.”

Way out ahead of the wide-brimmed hat trend, Elaine almost single handedly killed the street vendor umbrella game with her "urban sombrero". With all the wacky hats guys are wearing lately I might just cop one of these and let people guess if I’m being ironic or authentic.

Don’t worry if you can’t afford Wood Wood’s new Bania sweater or Ervell’s Newman knit—both will end up on sale. It turns out everybody just reblogs crazy sweaters, but nobody ever actually buys them. That's what we call an insider tip.

Seinfeld mastermind Larry David makes a cameo as Frank Costanza’s lawyer, wearing a cape in the streets a decade before your favorite style blogger did it. Bow down.

Elaine’s plan to bankrupt one Mayan clothier by supporting another backfires when both stores turn out to be owned by the same person. In the meantime Elaine gets mad tribal, the word "huaraches" is thrown around liberally and Jerry makes a great “rain dance” joke that, man, I’d explain to you, but you should really just go watch “The Millennium” from season eight. It’s really good.

"The Millennium” also contains another of my all-time favorite items: Kramer’s lobster shirt. Cosmo’s vintage spots must be so under the radar that Josh Kissi isn’t even onto them. Dude stays laced in vintage nautical short sleeve numbers menswear heads would pay, like, at least $180 for.

This Navajo print jacket Elaine’s wearing at Reggie’s diner probably isn’t actually Navajo, but that’s become a fashion catchall for anything vaguely Native American or Pendleton looking. Combined with the denim shirt, this look might have prompted a lesbian joke a few years back, but now I’m way too mature for something like that and this is totally on trend anyway, so fuck you if you're homophobic.

When Morty Seinfeld invented The Executive raincoat they didn’t sell, but in the 1990s oversized trenches were a staple of businessmen and perverts everywhere. Also, the two episode story digs into the seedy world of selling your dead parents’ clothes, sometimes before they’ve even passed away.

Elaine’s stint as president of J. Peterman led to some of Seinfeld’s most sartorially inclined (lol) storylines. Tops on that list is the time she promoted Eddie from the mailroom to copywriter. Eddie took the camo game to another level by dropping the sleeves, plus his copy was as real as it gets: “The mind races. You think about your knife; the only friend who hasn't betrayed you, the only friend who won't be dead by sun up. Sleep tight, mates, in your quilted Chambray nightshirts.” I wish homeboy worked at Four Pins except that he’d probably put me out of a job and just sit around creepily brooding over women with Moy. 

A classic “Who wore it best?” between Jerry and Puddy in a fur coat, which Elaine threw out of Joe Mayo’s window. (If you’ve never seen Seinfeld and don’t know who any of these characters are, why are you still reading?) The important thing in this episode is that Jerry is shamed for wearing fur and carrying a European carryall aka a purse. Let my man live!

The ever fresh Jackie Chiles brought his A-game whenever Kramer’s antics required litigation. Wide lapels, a collar pin and aviators—Jackie meant business. I always thought more episodes could’ve used a dose of the energetic lawyer, but at least I still feel like he’s around whenever I see NBA analyst David Aldridge.

Kramer’s discovery of The Merv Griffin Show, set in a dumpster, sets the stage (literally) for one of my favorite all-time episodes. Jerry drugs a woman in order to play with her vintage toy collection and Kramer wears a Band of Outsiders tie way before Band of Outsiders existed.

George, who is mostly based on Larry David, explains to Jerry how the subtleties of his daily outfits convey his many moods. This level of detail seems weird given Larry generally dresses like a clown who is depressed because he got fired after his boss found out he was a registered sex offender. But George is much more natty than Larry, and describes the mood of this look as “morning mist,” which sounds more like the name of a wine cooler, but I’ve definitely already seen ten corny Portland dads wearing this exact kit in 2013.

“I don’t wanna be a pirate!” Jerry famously whines when he learns he unknowingly agreed to wear the puffy shirt on The Today Show. He should’ve manned up and rocked this shit with Keith Richards level steez. When Seinfeld came to an end my older brother said they should just continue the show with the twist that he, my brother, moves into Jerry’s apartment and everything continues on just the same. He might not have had Jerry’s comic timing, but he definitely would’ve went full pirate and smanged some of Bryant Gumbel’s groupies in the green room.

George steals a suitcase from an Arkansan tourist and proceeds to pretend he’s a tourist to date a woman. George’s fit is more than a plot device—it’s a commentary on urban perceptions of Middle America. No, nevermind, it is just a plot device in an episode wherein George is traded by the Yankees to Tyler Chicken and looks like some asshole dad who went HAM at the Polo outlet.

Newman’s Postal Service Parka is my all-time Seinfeld grail piece. (Bro, I blogged about that shit four whole years ago. You can't see me.) A coat with no gimmicks, this parka is a simple garment built for the persistent, monotonous grind of delivering mail every single day to people who will just toss it in the fireplace. I need to get off my ass and track one of these down before the inevitable death of the United States Postal Service sparks a mad dash for rare mailman attire and I end up buying a Nigel Cabourn recreation on deep discount for $1,700.

I'm calling it now, wicked short ties at Pitti next summer. There are only so many ways to sprezz, right? Somebody is definitely dumb enough to try it.

Mustard was so hot last season AND with turquoise beads among other hastily gathered bracelets? You’ll see this same exact look tomorrow on that cute girl at the vintage boutique and you’ll be totally into it, but also a little creeped out because it looks just like a picture of your mom from 1992. Beggars can't be choosers.