How to Describe What Your Characters Are Wearing

I don’t usually spend a lot of time describing what my characters are wearing. Most of the time, I trust readers to fill in those blanks for themselves.

But sometimes clothing matters. Maybe she’s wearing the dress she bought for her wedding, even though she isn’t getting married. Perhaps he’s still in his work clothes at midnight because he hasn’t been home yet. Or maybe there’s a red coat that makes someone impossible to miss.

When it matters, you want the reader to see it without stopping the story to give us a paragraph about the sleeves. Here are a few tricks that can help.

Let the Clothing Show Up in the Action

The easiest way to make clothing feel natural is to let your character interact with it.

Imagine a woman arriving at a restaurant in a bright red wool coat. You could tell us that the coat is long and cinched at the waist.

Or you could let us discover it with her: When she reaches for her glass, the sleeve slides up her arm, revealing a thin gold watch. Later, when she stands to leave, the coat swings around her knees and catches on the corner of the table.

We never stopped for a clothing description, but now we can see the coat.

That’s the trick: don’t ask yourself, How do I describe this outfit? Instead, ask, What would someone actually notice about it right now?

Remember Who Is Looking

Here’s another thing to keep in mind: description always comes through somebody’s eyes.

If the woman in the red coat is being watched by someone who has a crush on her, he might notice the color first or the way the coat moves when she walks.

Her estranged sister, on the other hand, might notice something completely different. Maybe the coat is new. Perhaps it reminds her of their mother. She might also notice that her sister is still pushing up her sleeves when she’s nervous.

Same woman. Same coat. Different observer.

And that’s useful because what your characters notice tells us something about them.

I went to a party once with a college boyfriend. He muttered something about finding the bathroom and I told him it was over in the corner. He said he’d meet me at the bar and I gestured to the back of the room. He asked how I had noticed those things so quickly and I wondered how he hadn’t. 

Two people can stand in the same room and notice completely different things. That’s not a problem. That’s material.

True Love’s Door or The Stalker’s Door?

There’s an exercise I use in my classes that emphasizes this idea. Here it is so you can give it a try: 

Picture a door you know well. Your front door, a friend’s, your grandmother’s.

Write for five minutes starting with:

This is where my true love lives.

You’ll probably describe it warmly. The paint is a soft red. There are flowers on the welcome mat. The rusty hinge doesn’t even register.

Now write about the exact same door starting with:

This is where my stalker lives.

Suddenly those flowers look different. The hinge is rusty. Why are you even standing on your stalker’s porch?

Same door. Same details. Completely different mood.

The same thing happens with clothing. The coat doesn’t change. The filter does.

Trust Your Reader

The last thing I’d say is this: you don’t have to describe everything.

For example, start with the red coat. Add the muddy boots. Then give us the sleeve pushed up to reveal the gold watch. After that, let the reader’s imagination do some of the work.

That’s part of the fun of reading.

If you’re not sure whether you’ve given us enough, try handing the scene to a beta reader. Ask them what they remember about the character’s clothing.

If they remember the important detail, great. You’re probably done.

If they don’t, you’ll know where you might want to add a little more.

Ultimately, the goal isn’t to make sure your reader knows exactly what everyone is wearing. It’s to make the details you choose matter.

And if you want to play with description a little more, I’ll be teaching Writing the Senses: Transform Your Prose with Vivid Descriptions on Wednesday, September 9, from 12:00–1:30 PM PDT on Zoom through Craft Talks with April Dávila. We’ll work with all five senses and do some writing exercises to help you find details that feel genuinely yours. Register here.

Sometimes one good detail is all you need. You just have to notice it.