In American Psycho, the film based on Bret Easton Ellis’s 1991 novel, Patrick Bateman is obsessed with his appearance. His wardrobe—curated by costume designer Isis Mussenden—is a masterclass in 1980s power dressing: Valentino and Armani suits, pale shirts, power ties. The look is pristine, clinical, and unnervingly perfect. By day, he wears it to Wall Street. At night, he’s careful not to wrinkle his clothes when he commits gruesome murders.
With news of a Luca Guadagnino remake in the works, one wonders: what would Patrick Bateman wear today? Likely still a tailored suit, with a silk tie in deep red or blue, neatly knotted and perfectly centered. The hair should be clean-cut, side-parted, slicked back with gel or pomade. The face should be smooth-shaven, the skin perfect thanks to an obsessive skincare regime. Confidence that borders on narcissism is important. As is intense eye contact, and the eerie calm of someone hiding something.
Scene by scene, here’s how we imagine his 2025 wardrobe.
Bateman’s morning stretch—in nothing but white briefs—is an ode to vanity. Today, he would opt for crisp, cotton athleisure: sweatpants with a washed white raglan sweatshirt, finished off with a pair of Ferragamo blue-tinted shades. Self-care with a killer edge.
Bateman’s wardrobe was all about sharp lines, starched collars, and taut silhouettes. Today, it’s no longer about dressing like a banker, but about stealing the 1980s power suit structure and softening the silhouette. He might go for an oversized Ralph Lauren button-down with powder blue stripes. In the updated look, Chanel suspenders replace Wall Street’s conservative braces.
Bateman on a phone call, wearing Ray-Bans inside, is the very picture of icy corporate formalism. Now, Bateman would wear these Jacques Marie Mage sunglasses with a signature gold chain draped just-so around the collar of a crisp white shirt (no tie, top button undone). He doesn’t wear these sunglasses because they’re cool. He wears them because you’ll Google him the second he leaves the room.
One of Bateman’s interchangeable flings wore a strapless, silver-grey sheath dress on their date—polished and clinical, echoing the sterile perfection of his apartment. Perched on the white sofa like a guest in a showroom, she looks glamorous yet subdued, beautiful yet utterly disposable.
Today, Patrick Bateman’s assistant (originally played by Chloë Sevigny) would be one of Bateman’s peers: a young girlboss whose wardrobe telegraphs status through minimalism, precision, and (expensive) understatement. The look is not about warmth or individuality; it’s about fitting seamlessly into an aspirational world.
Instead of checking his reflection in the mirrored walls of Nell’s, Patrick Bateman would be adjusting his hair in the matte brass fixtures of the San Vicente Bungalows bathroom. His dinner conversation would be about fitness regimens, crypto, and skincare routines. His outfit would scream “stealth” wealth.
In 2025, Bateman might be a tech founder living in Malibu—still waking up at 5 a.m. to do crunches. He’d wear a lot of athleisure with a controlled injection of color. Think Nike Cortez sneakers in pink and red—violently nostalgic.
Bateman would still wear his iconic plastic raincoat to keep his outfit clean during his killing sprees. He might buy one from Dries Van Noten, transparent and slick, but lined with cashmere. Underneath, there’d be pristine Italian linen trousers.
