Let’s get this out of the way: The navy blue dress Katie Holmes wore over jeans last December—you know the one—wasn’t even a dress. It was a bustier, which, by definition, is a shirt. Didn’t anyone bother to notice how short it was? Anyway, it was given to her by her stylist as a cool piece to go out in, and Holmes chose to toss it on with some jeans and sneakers to attend the iHeartRadio Jingle Ball on a Friday night in New York City. That’s it; that’s the story. Except, of course, that’s not the story. What happened next is the story.
The look unearthed a type of collective hysteria that bordered on satire with its earnestness. Twitter almost broke. Seasoned fashion journalists weighed in. The “in defense” pieces ran rampant. The outfit was called cursed, controversial, disturbing. The New York Times darkly asked us whether we were, in fact, ready for the return of dresses over jeans. The stylist in question, Brie Welch, had to publicly explain the look for those of us who lacked the cognitive tools to process it. Someone thought Holmes should go to prison.
“I mean…wow,” Holmes says when I read her some headlines about the outfit over coffee on a sunny March morning. “That’s powerful language,” her voice heavy with sarcasm. She gamely throws me a few bones—she says girls in her neighborhood wear stuff like that all the time, the bustier covered only “half her behind,” so it couldn’t be a dress, and yeah, the vitriol was shocking—but it’s obvious that litigating a three-month-old outfit isn’t of interest to her, especially when she says, “Come on, women, let’s hold each other up here. Let’s look a little bit past what we’re wearing. That’s our duty amongst each other. I feel like the woman’s journey is deeper.”
And with that, the book is closed on Bustiergate, and I make a game-time decision to scrap my admittedly dumb question about how the response to that look compared with the fawning we did over 2019’s equally viral Khaite cashmere cardigan and bra. Onward!
Before talk turned to clothing, Holmes showed up to Sant Ambroeus, her go-to downtown-Manhattan restaurant, with wet hair and a case of static cling. She fanned out her white blouse before warmly hugging me–a person she’s never met—and slid into a chair. We acquainted ourselves easily, talking about our respective New York neighborhoods (one downtown, one uptown) and our eyesight (both bad, and I hold up my interview notes to show off the laughably huge 24-point font). It’s all very nice and easy and normal. She seems as relaxed as everybody else around us enjoying an 11 a.m. breakfast on a Tuesday. If I didn’t know the woman across the table was very famous, I might think this was the beginning of a tentatively promising job interview.
It’s been 25 years since Katie Holmes, teenager from Ohio, became Katie Holmes, global celebrity thanks to Dawson’s Creek, arguably the most beloved and influential teen soap of all time. When the series premiered on burgeoning network The WB in January 1998, young people were coming down off the cloying, melodramatic high of Titanic mania; popular television—Seinfeld, The Practice, Ally McBeal—skewed so mature that it was difficult to engage with; and news media was just starting to sharpen its knives for a White House intern entangled with the president. Teenagers needed something that felt like it was ours. And we found it in the fictional seaside town of Capeside, Massachusetts, where four high school students—Joey Potter (Holmes), Dawson Leery (James Van Der Beek), Pacey Witter (Joshua Jackson), and Jen Lindley (Michelle Williams)—lived lives that felt, to some extent, relatable. Never mind the Sorkin-level verbal pace and frequent use of ten-dollar words. The themes (the agony of adolescence, unrequited love, sexuality, class, and friendship) were universal.
As with most ensemble teen shows, for better or worse, a female breakout must be crowned, and Holmes—approachably beautiful, quick with a smirk yet visibly introspective—was the chosen one. But even with the Rolling Stone covers, the teen magazines, and the heaping praise including Robert Downey Jr.’s prediction she’d become “one of the gifted women of her generation,” she appeared to lack the desperation to be the next big thing that so many young stars have. If you were following along in real time, you could tell there was strategic consideration behind how she was going to use her newfound fame.
“When we were doing Dawson’s Creek and it was successful, I remember really wanting to grow as an actor and not just do things to capitalize on the moment,” Holmes says. “I wanted to learn from other people.”
In the decades since—save for a brief obligatory dip into the superhero genre—the 44-year-old has stuck to the idea of finding challenges in fairly quiet projects, including 2001’s crackling campus dramedy Wonder Boys opposite Michael Douglas and Frances McDormand, a small part she says she felt excited, and lucky, to get. She appeared in the 2005 satirical comedy Thank You for Smoking, starred in the 2010 Guillermo Del Toro–produced thriller Don’t Be Afraid of The Dark, stepped into the role of Jackie O, and landed a multiepisode arc on Showtime’s Ray Donovan. She’s jumped into live theater, appearing on Broadway in the 2008 revival of Arthur Miller’s All My Sons and off-Broadway in Anna Zeigler’s contemporary twisty drama The Wanderers, which just wrapped its three-month run.
Assuming a leadership role on set has been a particular avenue for immense creative fulfillment. She’s about to debut her third directorial movie, Rare Objects, an indie which she cowrote based on the 2016 Kathleen Tessaro novel that will be released by IFC in select theaters and on demand April 14. The plot is charming in its simplicity: A young woman, Benita (played by newcomer Julia Mayorga), gets a job in a Manhattan antiques store as a way to recover after a traumatic event. Holmes plays a socialite who forges a bond with Benita following their stay at a mental health facility.
Holmes is visibly excited about the movie, her slightly inscrutable demeanor breaking when she talks about it. She tells me she’s been working on it since 2016 and asked for some changes, which the author granted. “Luckily, Kathleen knows that a book is very different from a movie, so she gave me total freedom to do it and what I needed to do to make it work for the screen,” she says. One substantial change is that the film is set in contemporary New York, not Depression-era Boston—a revision Holmes thought was key given the city’s ability to bring together people of all types from various walks of life. “I felt like that theme of female friendship was so powerful in the book, and that’s what I really wanted to focus on in the film,” she continues. “And the love letter to New York, how you can meet so many people from different neighborhoods and find that sense of friendship and community, and people can help you out. It’s an unpredictable way of living when you’re in this city.”
As our conversation rolls on, it’s hard to not see a woman who has earned the right to be, as the media loves to remind us, exceptionally private. After decades of relentlessly being tracked by the tabloids for her first and only marriage and having to undergo the frequent speculation into whom she’s dating and the constant obsession over what she’s wearing—all the while trying to quietly raise her daughter—it would seem strange if she weren’t guarded. And yet, during this moment in time when we demand our celebrities to give, give, give–on social media, in interviews, on red carpets, on coffee runs, in staged paparazzi moments—it’s still a novelty that a famous woman is happy to just do the work onscreen and onstage without the distractions that come with being in the headlines for 25 years. And that novelty is, undoubtedly, part of what makes Katie Holmes so compelling.
Glamour: Congrats on Rare Objects. What’s it like directing yourself? On paper, it sounds great—I’ll do what I want!—but it must be harder than it seems, especially when you’ve spent most of your life being directed by other people. Is it more fulfilling? Is it a losing game?
Katie Holmes: It’s difficult in the sense that you’re wearing two hats, but your most important one on set is the director because you’re leading the ship. When I stepped into being an actor, in my head, I was [more] aware of time. I was like, I actually have to get this in very few takes because I know what we have left to get tonight. I don’t want to hold people up. I worked with an acting teacher prior to prepping the film. So I had my directions in my head for what I wanted to do.
There’s a scene early on during which the young lead, Benita, gets assaulted. As I was watching, the only thing I could think of was, Of course a woman directed this film. The scene was perfect in that it did what it needed to do for the story. It wasn’t gratuitous; it wasn’t overdone. It wasn’t played for shock. It was understated in a way I feel isn’t always the case with male directors and depictions of sexual violence. Do you know what I mean by that?
Yeah, I do. What was most important to me was what it did to [Benita] in the aftermath. To me, unfortunately, [sexual assault] is an understood secret amongst women, so we don’t have to share too much to know what we’re talking about. And I also felt like that. Julia [Mayorga] was so incredible in that scene, and that was really a difficult one to shoot because I just needed her face. I kept telling both of the actors, “It’s your faces.” And so they had to really go there. Everybody was pretty shaken up after.”
Dawson’s Creek turned 25 in January, which is wild. It’s funny that there’s a lot of *Dawson’*s on TikTok—people use sound drops from the show to illustrate their videos, like “What is a soulmate?” It’s so interesting how it’s wound its way into the zeitgeist while still being a vital part of pop culture for people like me who came of age in the late ’90s and early ’00s. It’s a timeless show. Why do you think that is?
I was just 18 when we started, and I really appreciated the writing because I felt like, as a teenager, I had so many different feelings, trying to go from being a girl to a woman. And I felt like [creator Kevin Williamson] had this way of putting words to those feelings. So for me, playing that role, I was like, “Oh, that’s what that means. Oh, I get that.” I loved doing it. It was a really fun, profound experience.
Have you rewatched any of it?
I have.
Do you think it holds up?
In some ways, yes. Some ways, no. We had our big episode where Jack comes out and I’m so glad we had that episode, and I’m so sad that that is what was happening for people. And I’m so glad that it’s not happening, hopefully, to that extent in today’s world. But I think it [was also] just this combination of Wilmington, North Carolina—so beautiful. There was that sense of innocence. Kevin wrote the simplicity of teen emotions really well.
The nature of being a fan was different than it is now. Today, with Instagram and TikTok, the 24-hour tabloid cycle, and online anonymous gossip accounts, fans can get anything at any time, as opposed to waiting for a magazine with stars on the cover and a big headline. Do you think that’s something you could have handled or enjoyed 25 years ago? Or are you grateful that you became a household name before social media?
In my life now, I don’t go on social media that much. I don’t scroll that much because I don’t want all that information. And maybe because I did come up where there was a time and place for things, even with our show—it started airing on Tuesday nights and you had to wait a week. So you got to think about that one episode. The work was limited to that. We also were protected. We were in North Carolina, we were working 14 hours a day, and we were really contained and not really distracted by the outside world, which was to our benefit and to the benefit of the show, so we could do what we had to do.
You started working as a teenager and have been doing it steadily, but looking at your résumé is fascinating. You never got boxed into playing the sexy young thing or, as you got older, only a mom or a woman who wants to be one.
I didn’t want to be the sexy young thing. I am not sexy. I used to have a friend of mine come to all my photo shoots to make sure that they didn’t try to make me that way.
But I feel like surely, especially after Dawson’s, people wanted you to be that?
Yeah, I guess I just wanted to be an actor.
Was there ever a role you wanted and didn’t get? Or didn’t work out?
The [2002] movie 40 Days and 40 Nights. Originally, there was a read-through, and it was going to be me and Ashton Kutcher and [American Pie star and Holmes’s The Wanderers costar] Eddie Kaye Thomas. And I didn’t know this, Eddie just told me, but he had gotten into a fender bender on the way to the table read and the reading just didn’t go well. There were executives and all that, and you could just feel it. I remember leaving going, Oh, my God, what just happened? It wasn’t meant to be. They ended up making it with another cast.
I want to talk a little about style. What you wear seems to be a constant source of fascination for people, and for editors at sites like Glamour. You understand fashion and you have a strong sense of personal style, but people get hysterical over how you dress. Last month there were literally hundreds of trending stories about the yellow suit you wore to Live With Kelly and Ryan. Why do you think that is?
I really don’t know. I enjoy [fashion]. I mean, I enjoy the craftsmanship. I enjoy putting things together. And I work with [stylist] Brie Welch, and she’s very detail oriented, and that inspires me. I think it is very creative. I love vintage shopping. I love the art of design.
During the early days of COVID, you emerged as this source of inspiration for women figuring out how to embrace comfort but still feel put together. We wrote about something you wore in 2020—you probably have no recollection of this—but you were out and about in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a tailored blazer. It was one of the highest trafficked stories for us that month. Maybe women saw themselves in that look?
I think we all want our sweats. It’s a funny world because the culture of celebrity and the access that exists now could be quite a distraction from who the person is. I’m an actor, so people say, “Oh, do you think about what you wear before you go to the grocery store?” No, because it’s not my job. You know what I mean? But yesterday, going and doing a talk show is part of my job. So yes, that’s put together.
Do you see things your 16-year-old daughter and her friends are wearing that feel reminiscent of what you wore when you were younger?
I think the ’90s style is exactly back. Makes me feel old. We lived through that already! My mom says she should have saved things. I should have saved things.
Speaking of—you’re a mom to a teenage girl. Are there any words to accurately describe that?
What has been really important for me with my daughter, because she was so visible at a young age, is I really like to protect her. I’m very grateful to be a parent, to be her parent. She’s an incredible person.
I was listening to her cover of “Blue Moon,” which played during the opening credits of the last movie you directed, Alone Together. It’s really good. She also sings on Rare Objects. How did that come about?
Yes. I hope she always does something on my films. I always ask her. But both of those experiences came out of the same sense of what I love about our industry, which is, you have these projects and you become a family with people. And it’s this safe, beautiful, creative space. So it comes out of love for me to include someone who I love dearly. That’s how I like to work. I like to have that kind of feeling. It was very meaningful to me to have her there, because she’s my heart.
What’s next for you?
Well, I’m putting together two films right now. One is a smaller one that Alan Cumming and I wrote together, and it’ll be the two of us. And then another project that I’ll just direct and we’re figuring out casting. I’m always trying to find stories. It’s so exciting to have a voice as a woman and put our perspective out there. You reach a certain age and you’re like, “I think this is interesting.” I finally have the confidence to be like, “No, I think I’m going to say this. I think I’m going to do this.”
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Perrie Samotin is Glamour’s digital director and host of Glamour’s What I Wore When podcast. Follow her@perriesamotin.
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