A Tiny Bit of Turqouise
February 27, 2025I
Of all the fashion trends I’ve felt emerging this year, a pop of turquoise may be my favorite. In my mind, turquoise has had quite the character arc. It was a staple of my elementary school years and an early-2010s favorite—something about it screamed LMFAO, or those sunglasses with the dangling chain mustache. Like many trends that peaked during that era, its overexposure led to a complete rejection of the color throughout my high school and college years. I found it genuinely difficult to look at; its brightness felt almost physically obnoxious. For the past five to ten years, I’ve steered clear of turquoise altogether, especially in clothing.
And yet, something funny has started to happen this spring: a quiet reintroduction of turquoise and teal—one I predict is only just beginning.
It all started with a photo of Cher, who I believe I mentioned in my fall post as slowly becoming one of my personal style icons. It’s no secret that Cher loved turquoise, but this particular image stopped me in my tracks as I began exploring spring fashion. In it, she walks effortlessly through paparazzi in an almost bohemian ensemble. A simple white button-down is made visually rich by layers of turquoise jewelry around her neck and dangling from her ears. There’s movement in the photograph—you can almost hear the jewelry chiming as she walks. Looking closer, you spot a white-and-turquoise belt cinched at her waist, giving structure to an otherwise flowy, masculine top. Pale yellow pants and scarves play perfectly against the blue tones of her accessories.
And yet, something funny has started to happen this spring: a quiet reintroduction of turquoise and teal—one I predict is only just beginning.
It all started with a photo of Cher, who I believe I mentioned in my fall post as slowly becoming one of my personal style icons. It’s no secret that Cher loved turquoise, but this particular image stopped me in my tracks as I began exploring spring fashion. In it, she walks effortlessly through paparazzi in an almost bohemian ensemble. A simple white button-down is made visually rich by layers of turquoise jewelry around her neck and dangling from her ears. There’s movement in the photograph—you can almost hear the jewelry chiming as she walks. Looking closer, you spot a white-and-turquoise belt cinched at her waist, giving structure to an otherwise flowy, masculine top. Pale yellow pants and scarves play perfectly against the blue tones of her accessories.
I could analyze this image as if it were a work of art—which I find myself doing more and more often thanks to my (somewhat involuntary) second major in art history. With this photo as the root of my inspiration, I’ve been researching and imagining other ways a pop of turquoise might appear this spring.
Beyond jewelry and Southwestern styling, I’ve been thinking—strangely enough—about makeup. Specifically, turquoise eyeshadow as a gentle way to ease back into my long-standing fear of teal. Though I wasn’t alive then, turquoise eyeshadow feels like a nod to 1950s and ’60s California: actresses lounging poolside in kaftans, eyes swept with color. A quick internet search confirmed my intuition when I came across a 1961 Maybelline magazine advertisement.
What draws me to that reference point isn’t nostalgia for the era itself, but its visual language. I’ve always admired the aesthetics of that time—a moment in fashion when color was worn boldly and without apology. While the mid-century period is often remembered visually for its brightness and optimism, that surface-level vibrancy existed alongside profound social unrest and the fight for civil rights. The contrast between the two is striking: color as aspiration, even when reality was far from easy.
Perhaps teal eyeshadow doesn’t signal a return to the past, but rather a desire to reclaim that visual optimism—to use color as expression, confidence, and possibility in the present.
Beyond jewelry and Southwestern styling, I’ve been thinking—strangely enough—about makeup. Specifically, turquoise eyeshadow as a gentle way to ease back into my long-standing fear of teal. Though I wasn’t alive then, turquoise eyeshadow feels like a nod to 1950s and ’60s California: actresses lounging poolside in kaftans, eyes swept with color. A quick internet search confirmed my intuition when I came across a 1961 Maybelline magazine advertisement.
What draws me to that reference point isn’t nostalgia for the era itself, but its visual language. I’ve always admired the aesthetics of that time—a moment in fashion when color was worn boldly and without apology. While the mid-century period is often remembered visually for its brightness and optimism, that surface-level vibrancy existed alongside profound social unrest and the fight for civil rights. The contrast between the two is striking: color as aspiration, even when reality was far from easy.
Perhaps teal eyeshadow doesn’t signal a return to the past, but rather a desire to reclaim that visual optimism—to use color as expression, confidence, and possibility in the present.