How ‘Sorry, Baby’ Nailed Quintessential New England Menswear
“The film called for this kind of winter-New-England style,” says costume designer Emily Costantino, who is based in New York City. “I read the script and thought, I know this.” She immediately knew how to build up all of the costumes in the film. Costantino was no stranger to the Northeastern cold, having grown up in a Canadian border town about two hours north of Syracuse. What’s more, Costantino’s grandmother owned a clothing store, and she spent her childhood running amongst racks of beefy flannels and nubby knitwear. “We ended up using all these brands that she used to sell: Pendleton, Woolridge, Eddie Bauer,” she says.
Sorry, Baby, which is now available to rent on streamers like Prime Video and Apple TV+, is full of both intricacy and comedy. The film centers on Victor’s Agnes—a young literature professor at a small liberal arts college in an unspecified, woodsy New England town—and her life before and after an assault she experiences as a grad student. The project came together quickly for Costantino, who had just four weeks to prep before filming began in eastern Massachusetts. She and Victor got to work immediately. “We really connected over Kelly Reichardt films like Certain Women, and we also bonded over these random ’90s rom-coms with Julia Roberts and Sandra Bullock,” Costantino recalls. Their references ran wide: the 2007 film Juno, Miranda July, a 1994 Calvin Klein collection, and the legendary costumer Mark Bridges. But for Agnes and her cohort, their clothing is grounded in texture and color.
Courtesy of Emily Costantino
Agnes dresses in a style best described as artfully disheveled. There’s a quiet cohesion to her wardrobe—a rotation of timeless menswear silhouettes and muted tones that mirror the emotional undercurrents of the film. She wears pleated pants with a corduroy-collared barn jacket and suede Mary Janes. Sweater vests over oversized button-up shirts. Rugged work pants with thick, full-zip sweaters. Her clothes reflect both movement and stagnation, told through subtle gradations of brown and the rough textures of tweed, Irish wool, and flannel.
Gender was a key consideration—in one scene, Agnes is asked to select her gender on a form, and she literally draws in a new box between male and female. (Off-screen, Eva Victor uses they/she pronouns.) “In the beginning, we leaned into more youthful or traditionally feminine shapes,” Costantino says. “But her silhouettes start to shift. We move toward more traditionally masculine styles.”