Last night’s And Just Like That finale was a farewell episode full of emotional closures, old callbacks, and, of course, clothes that spoke louder than dialogue. Amid the chatter about Carrie’s tutu send-off, one fashion story quietly outshone the rest: Lisa Todd Wexley’s finale look. It was not loud. It was not viral bait. Instead, it was a masterclass in deliberate dressing, a visual summary of her character’s arc told through color, texture, and an unwavering sense of self.
In her final Season 3 appearance, Lisa wore a purple story: a tailored tweed vest threaded with magenta tufts, paired with a crisp blouse, and anchored by a silk tie topped with a single brooch. The layered textures and tonal depth made it impossible to mistake this for a throwaway ensemble. Purple, long associated with sovereignty and ceremony, has been a quiet throughline for Lisa all season. In this final episode, it doubled as a coronation robe, signaling both her social standing and her composure under pressure. The brooch-and-tie combination concentrated attention at the neck, framing her face like a portrait, while the tweed’s weave offered dimension that played beautifully on camera.
From her first appearance in the series, Lisa was never written to fade into the background. She occupies the frame with authority, but it is the styling that gives her the layered narrative dimension usually reserved for costume-drama heroines. The show’s decision to bring in a creative voice attuned to the nuances of representing a Black woman in high-society New York, in all her vibrancy, was a deliberate one. Every choice, from the hue of a gown to the curve of a cuff bracelet, was rooted in conversations about visibility, heritage, and the politics of personal presentation.
Lisa’s clothing is more than surface beauty. It is a biography in fabric. Rich, saturated color connects her to traditions of celebration and self-expression that trace from West African textiles to Harlem Renaissance soirées. Bold accessories recall a history of women using adornment as both shield and statement. Even her textures — silks, metallics, handwoven fabrics, and in the finale, tweed with unexpected threads remind us that luxury and cultural depth can exist in the same breath.
This visual language extends into her home. Throughout the season, warm, layered interiors mirrored the same design ethos as her wardrobe. Public and private spaces told a unified story: a woman who lives surrounded by beauty, and whose beauty is deliberate, political, and joyful.
Looking at the season as a whole, the finale crystallizes why Lisa Todd Wexley’s style deserves close study. Her clothes are not just the work of a talented costume department; they are a curated cultural statement. In a show famed for high-gloss fashion, Lisa’s presence insists that glamour can also be grounded, that opulence can be a record of heritage, and that style, when wielded with intent, is as much a narrative tool as any line of dialogue.
