Is anyone in the world as cool as Kristen Stewart? No.
That’s the whole article.
I’m kidding: we’re here today to talk about one specific portion of Kristen Stewart’s cool, which is her Outdoor Voices hat. Stewart looks as unstudied, comfortable, glamorous, and weird when she’s attending a movie premiere as she does when she’s just slumming around, going out to lunch, or stalking around the magical mountain of celebrity status walking called Runyon Canyon Park.
But let’s back up for a moment to take in the great Outdoor…Voices. Outdoor Voices, for the uninitiated, makes woke leggings and sweatshirts and other workout apparel, and if you are wondering how an inanimate object, most of all leggings, can be “woke,” then you’re asking all the right questions. Conceived as a kind of thinking gal’s Lululemon, Outdoor Voices’ clothing comes in a friendly ’70s color palette and models its products on a diverse range of women. (And men!) Their customer is a person for whom physical fitness is a kind of low-key spiritual-not-religious practice.
These are pretty much unimpeachable if anodyne corporate values—and that’s where its association with Stewart gets weird. Outdoor Voices comes with a lifestyle, or at least conjures it: you’re not just walking your dog, but your French bulldog, and maybe it’s named something like Keanu Reeves; after yoga, you’re going to have a latte made with some kind of really advanced milk. This kind of identity-forward consumerism, so the slogan goes, is the idea of “Doing Things.” The website adds: “For fun. Daily,” like your cool and relaxed (but very hot) friend. This isn’t the daring of Just Do It or the snarl of Impossible Is Nothing. This is simple, precise, safe.
Stewart, of course, doesn’t do any of those things. She has proven herself pretty unwilling to play the starlet—since making her name with a blockbuster franchise about wanting to smooch a hunky vampire, she’s mostly made cool art-house films. She is Chanel’s first out brand ambassador. She looks so sullen that you wonder if she invented eyeliner. Last spring, she took her shoes off after she finished posing on the Cannes red carpet. She broke up one of America’s sweetheart Hollywood couples when she had an affair with a married man, and Donald Trump tweeted that she had “cheated on [Pattinson] like a dog.” She is everything we hope we could be if we were famous. The idea of her buying into a brand identity is actually hilarious.
Stewart recently wore an insanely rare Beastie Boys T-shirt, which the group sold during their 1986 tour with Run-DMC. The front is your standard Beasties logo and the back reads, “GET OFF MY DICK,” which was so outrageous that the band had to pull the shirts and print a new run without nothing on the back. It’s the kind of shirt for sells for hundreds and hundreds of dollars, and yet, frankly, I’m less curious about where Stewart got that than I am about this Outdoor Voices hat. (It appears she may have won custody of the shirt in the breakup with Pattinson.) The very nature of the world’s mysteries—the Bermuda Triangle, Anastasia, etc.—means we will probably never know how an Outdoor Voices hat came into Kristen Stewart’s possession. It’s entirely possible that Stewart has a best friend who works in the corporate office, that she in fact stans their corporate theology. But in case we never find out, I am thrilled to see Stewart insist that her every controversial move, documented rapturously by the paparazzi and over-analyzed by every celebrity gossip site, is just her idea of doing things.