When I lay down to dream, I see Miu Miu tops from FW99, dresses that look like orchids from Blumarine SS13, and Monster Hunter Wilds armor sets I’m wildly jealous of as a devoted FromSoftware fan. I thought my years assembling avant-garde looks as a passionate Fashion Souls craftswoman were worth something – but Monster Hunter Wilds’ Fashion Hunters have brought my life’s work to shame.
OK, let me take a deep breath. I’m destroying my mascara.
Am I being unfair to FromSoftware? Possibly. After all, I’m still proud of the faded bonnet and default schoolboy shorts I once put my Bloodborne protagonist in – very Thom Browne. And Fia’s smoky, chiffon Deathbed Dress in Elden Ring – it has an elegant Elie Saab swish to it. But am I being dramatic about the disparity between clothing options in Monster Hunter Wilds and the undoubtedly more masculine selection found in FromSoftware games? No. Absolutely not. I’ve grown tired of hiding my mage’s tasteful four-pack abs behind breast plates the same size as God’s foot.
So, Monster Hunter Wilds has impressive beasts to battle and a philosophical story to wrestle with, as we commend it for in our Monster Hunter Wilds review. But, as an outsider to Capcom‘s action RPG series, all I’m interested in is the game’s slinky black capes and crop tops – the clingy fishnet tights and fancy helms. I’m getting emotional already.
Layered armor, an editing mechanic first introduced in 2018’s Monster Hunter World, allows players to combine these runway-ready pieces into uniforms appropriate for either dragon slaying, or slaying at the Forbidden Lands’ hottest dive bar.
The mechanic works as intuitively as a needle and thread – after you gather high-rank materials and create high-rank armor, you can unlock its cosmetic options. Color and material matching are both in your control, making it so that a sultry, low-brim cowboy hat can appear to be lined with leather or crocodile, depending on what else you’re wearing.
There is no FromSoftware game that enables this level of personalization – not even Elden Ring, which introduced the ability to “alter” armor with subtle tailoring. But, while Monster Hunter Wilds players are galloping around looking like satin tulips and vampire royalty in non-gendered outfits, Elden Ring’s altering services rarely go beyond removing a cape or sackcloth hood from its, mostly, rectangular armor sets weighed down by elephantine codpieces. Bloodborne at least has a few frilly skirts you can slip on, and its Victorian-inspired menswear is more flattering than, for example, Dark Souls’ onion-shaped Catarina helmet, but its fashion is still more restrictive than what’s in Monster Hunter Wilds.
This matters, because clothing matters. If it didn’t, women wouldn’t have pushed for over 100 years to make pants an acceptable part of their wardrobes. Women in 1920 wouldn’t have braved unamused beach censors on Coney Island and gotten arrested for wearing one-piece bathing suits. Women around the world wouldn’t still need to advocate for whether or not they should cover their hair, or arms, or belly button piercings because everyone would know that choosing an outfit is freedom.
I’m starting to sound like a Dark Souls suffragette, but I’m serious. When a supposedly inconsequential video game defaults to masculine preferences in clothing, as a woman, I know the developers didn’t expect me to play it. And, while I may appreciate a gilded codpiece as much as the next girl, FromSoftware limits players’ creativity and immersion by forcing them to preen like a chest-puffing male lion. How am I supposed to imagine myself in a crumbling fairyland when I’m way too distracted by the beast head covering my eyes?
Though I wish the FromSoftware games I’ve been obsessing over for years had done it first, Monster Hunter Wilds boasts a flexible approach to fashion that, I think, is both the most stylish and welcoming an action RPG has ever had. I hope to see more games follow suit. Video game fashion isn’t as important as sleep or starlight – and it’s just as intangible – but I need it all the same.
