I can’t tell you the last time I put on a dress with frills or was able to put my hair in a top knot. I suppose this weekend was monumental. Zara is on point with their subtly feminine pieces and I figured I needed a for real LBD if I wanted to graduate college a real woman. And yes, if you don’t own a sexy-ish black dress then you aren’t a woman. Just kidding, you probably just like brighter colors or not conforming to predetermined fashion must-haves. And what’s an embroidered, leg revealing dress without beat up Chuck Taylor’s?
Probably elegant, but I am not about to host a party in heels. There are drinks to mix and strangers to entertain and I was not planning on tripping while doing so. Also, any tips for bras and backless dresses are appreciated. I ended up having to summon the courage of Hannah Horvath and hope detailed embroidery would work as chest armor once the AC came on.
As for the top knot, I about squealed upon discovering that the baby hairs at the bottom of my hairline almost gathered into one handful. With the help of 17 bobby pins, every hair on my greying head was neatly hair-sprayed to the side of my scalp with a few hairs to spare, creating a knot of sorts at my crown. Almost two years of pixie-growout and I am able to participate in the hair trends of 2012. One small step for my hair, one giant leap for my heart.
I think I’ve finally begun to shed my minimalistic looks of winter’s past to uncover my inner off-duty model look. I’m really feeling the whole grungy, tumblr, selfie-girl swag of Cara Delevigne and M. Cyrus. Yeah, swag. I said it. They always look so effortlessly chic. Probably effortless because they really do get out of bed at noon and roll into whatever predetermined lunch date their publicist recommends. Either way, they look good. The hair undone, the T-shirt knotted like they just don’t give a what. I’m digging it. Here’s my take.
P.S. Blogging isn’t at the top of my list these days, hence this lackadaisical post. I didn’t have time to dig through a thesaurus to find a cooler word for swag. Swag it is. You know, just trying to get graduated and find a job. Hire me?
[shirt-target, vest-river island (old), skirt-target, shoes-target]
If this pose doesn’t convince you to hire me, I’m not sure what else I can do.
Thanks, Austin for the photos.
There’s not much to say here. I’m in Tuscaloosa, Ala. Not New York. And it’s Fashion Week. So I’ll sit on this brick wall and sulk in my overalls, contrasting their proverbial farm-girl nature with a pair of Sam Edelman stilettos. The last time I wore these shoes was with my navy tutu—just goes to show you how versatile a pair of tortoise-shell stilettos are. Touche, Sam.
[top-madewell (similar here), overalls-uo, shoes-sam edelman]
Thank you, Daniel for the impromptu photo-shoot.
To the jeans with a nine-inch inseam,
Thank you for finding me. I searched high on the shelves of Madewell—overpriced, but probably sturdy, and still too much for me to pay for a pair of jeans. I searched low in the recesses Gap’s sale section. The fit too tight to claim to be my boyfriend’s jeans. You see, I wanted the saggy, the shredded, the “I took these right out of my boyfriend’s laundry hamper and cinched them just tight enough to rest on my hips with his belt” look. Alas, I have no boyfriend to comb through dirty clothes baskets and every pair of boyfriend jeans I’ve found seem like they’d suffocate my metaphorical boyfriend’s nether region. The boyfriend I’d steal clothes from does not wear the same jeans as me.
But I found them. Forever 21 has my back. I bought them three sizes “too big” they didn’t fit just the way I wanted. They are as unflattering as I had envisioned—saggy, frumpy, ragged—and they’re perfect.
[sweater-j.crew, jeans-forever21, boots-zara, bag-rm]
Matching skirt sets are usually likened to Judy Bonner-esque red suits and floral patterned legging/tunic combos from pre-k. But 2014 brings with it refined digital prints and modern silhouettes worth replicating on both the top and bottom halves of your ensemble.
2013 was a year of print mixing; from plaid and polka-dot to stripes and florals, the perfect concoction of mis-matched was prized among street style gurus. This year it’s all about making a big statement with coordinating prints from head to toe. Mara Hoffman and Vivienne Tam offered their take on coordinating separates on their spring 2014 runway looks. The models used the conservative hemlines to their long-legged advantage—bathing in tribal and geometric prints.
I have been searching for the perfectly printed skirt/pant/shirt set for more than a year now—shying away from large floral suit sets, I looked for something on the neutral side; because practicality. You know. I found it in the form of a Zara basic skirt/shirt combo and it was love. Paired with a few bright accessories and I think it will be one of my favorite professional-ish looks I so often find myself in need of.
Yeah, the Miley buns? I really have no explanation. I thought they looked cool.
[skirt/shirt-zara, shoes-zara, necklace-dannijo, bag-dsw, glasses-warby parker]
To round out my Christmas break, I took a trip to see my lovely summer roommates in our old stomping grounds. It was so nice to see New York in all of her wintery, snowy glory. Due to the “polar vortex” sweeping across the country, mostof my carefully calculated outfits—deemed unworthy to wear to Chili’s or Panera Bread at home—ended up not being able to keep out the bitter cold, thus remained at the bottom of my suitcase. However, our trip to brunch at Rosemary’s and walk around Central Park proved perfect weather to sport my most prized Christmas present, my J.Crew moto skirt. I’m crossing my fingers this will be my last visit.
Also, this bag is everything I’ve been looking for in a carry-on, carry-all, out and about bag for a couple years now. Plus it adds a punchy chic note to any drab legging/sweater look I find myself in when school starts.
[sweater-h&m, skirt-j.crew(on sale!!), bag-dsw, hat-gap, scarf-h&m, coat-mamaw's, boots-thanks syd]
Once upon a time, I accidentally decided to liken my wardrobe choices to that of an elementary school librarian; so I drug my best friend/cousin/photographer to the largest library on campus in the middle of finals week to take pictures of the aforementioned outfit.
I forgot how much I loved the smell of old books and running my hands along the shelves—stopping to check the dates inside the books with the most weathered spines. I also forgot the awful things florescent lighting can do to the imagined romanticism often trapped in the shelves of an almost 100-year-old library
. Gorgas felt more mental institution than it did study haven. Although, passing through students with tired eyes and rumpled sweatpants buried in notebooks and laptop cords, I sensed the fraying of meninges.
Skipping through empty aisles, through books that probably haven’t been opened in years—it was nice. Even if my reasoning for visiting an outdated school library was trite, I’m glad I was able to rekindle my appreciation for the underdog; crinkled, cream pages, bound with glue and tacked inside the crooked corners of a stamped spine. iPads don’t smell like anything.
Currently reading: The Road by Cormac McCarthy
[everything I'm wearing is old and you can't find it anywhere.]