12 ways to dress like a wayne thiebaud cake
you've never seen pastels like this this before.
The Molehill is a California-based publication that would not exist without immigrants! For the rest of today, 20% of all proceeds from new subscription upgrades will be donated to the Bay Area Immigration Bond Fund. Stay safe out there everyone <3
It was around noon when I emerged from the dark escalator pit of 16th Mission station into the blustery open plaza.
The sky was the whitest shade of gray. A chill gust of wind blew my trench coat open. I shuddered and pulled it back into a tight cocoon seal. I’ve lived here most of my whole life, yet I still feel shocked—tricked, even—every time June gloom hits San Francisco.
I’m here to kill some time before meeting a friend, so I decide to take a leisurely walk to Tartine Manufactory for lunch and people watching. The Mission has a high concentration of good cafes and bakeries, perfect for an activity I call pastry-spotting. I try to look for display cases that would have captivated Wayne Thiebaud, the Bay Area artist famous for his paintings of confectionary wonderland.
As I order a black sesame latte at Stonemill, my eyes scan the swirly bundles of matcha mousse rolls and yuzu-flecked cream pies. I float down to 18th street and pass by a Mexican bakery with crystalline pink conchas shimmering behind the glass. I want to string two together and wear it as a bikini top.
Finally, I get to Tartine and there’s a long line. That’s ok. I have time. I wait and take it all in: lemon cream tarts adorned with a flash of nasturtium petal, cookies spotted with valrhona chocolate moles, jammy apricot galettes with tutu pleated crusts.
There are easier ways to eat fruit, butter, and flour, but these creations are pretty for the sake of being pretty.
Pastries are the jewelry of the food, I decide.
The idea for this newsletter came about as I was scrolling my camera roll of outfit photos for the week, trying to pinpoint at a unifying theme or sentiment.
And then it hit me—everything reminded me of a Thiebaud painting in some way. Sometimes in obvious ways, like a vibrant creamsicle milkshake color scheme, but sometimes unassuming, like the plasticky gumball quality of a puffy cabochon ring.
Here are 12 ways I dressed like a Thiebaud painting—told in a fashion blog meets art history lecture format.
The art history student in me can’t help but analyze the deeper meaning in his work, how it connects to consumer culture and even modern day Instagram cake photography!
Note: all paintings have been cropped for sizing purposes, and I may earn a commission on purchases made through affiliate links above the paywall.
I love Thiebaud’s paintings because he paints like a pastry chef. He’s most famous for his cakes, but anything dessert was fair game. That man had a deep understanding of dairy—how it alchemizes into creams and puddings and shakes. His paintings look good enough to eat, because the paint is applied to resemble creamy frosting.
Drink Cup is giving Pucci. The creamsicle swirls of the cup’s pattern accentuates the milky puddle of what it presumably a strawberry (?) shake. The bright magenta and tangerine screams ARTIFICIAL COLORING, it’s mesmerizing in a sickly way. Like how the most gorgeous streaky pink LA sunsets are because of smog pollution.
Here’s a classic Thiebaudian color combo I’ll be repeating. Yellow bordering on chartreuse, lavender, and a cool chocolate brown. It just works.
Thiebaud’s work helps me understand the role artifice plays in our food—and by extension, our culture.