Sunday, July 28, 2013

SWEATSHIRTS: NOW TO BE WORN WITH A SHINY SKIRT


I'm not even going to try to call this a comeback, because I'm pretty sure, unbeknownst to downtown's sidewalk, we've been wearing them for years, privately.  I for one have a few at the top of my closet.  One in particular is reserved for the next time I feel like welding something.  The rest are for long-term boyfriend eyes only.  And I don't think I'm alone.  I'm willing to venture that your closet is housing some sweatshirts too, top or bottom - unless you're wearing one right now, you lazy couch potato!  Ha, just kidding.  

So there you have it!  If you're broke like me, you can put your junky threadbares to use; give your co-workers an eyeful instead of your boyfriend for a change.  Or if you have more than a little to spare, check Polyvore and get your self something damn fancy.  My favorite is the cropped Acne flower print

(Image via Harper's Bazaar.)
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Saturday, July 27, 2013

WRIST LUCK


Ahoy there, Sexy!  Now tell me, by what stretch of the imagination did I deserve to find, in my sister's old jewelry box, the three Israeli designed bracelets given to me by my 1st grade piano teacher?  Amazing how far memorizing a piano solo could get you in those days.

The bracelets were pretty big on my wrist, so I'm wearing them over a long sleeved button down.
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Friday, July 26, 2013

LET'S GIVE IT A TRY

I now know how much fun shopping for and buying an oversized velvet dolman top can be.  But that wearing said top, or even successfully leaving the house with it on my back could be a challenge.  Why so hard you ask?  Have you ever owned a spectacular piece of clothing, but worried that wearing it out on a casual day would make you look like you were trying to hard? (a social taboo for young people in today's society.  Call Me Maybe completely proves my theory.  Almost 50 years ago Frank Sinatra sang Call Me.  What's with this "maybe"?  What must we be so noncommittal!)

Back to the point: I have a few clothing items I've been scared to wear for that exact reason (one of these includes a full-length sparkly gold dress).  So what's a girl to do?  Leave all my adventurous clothes in the back of my closet and opt for the same old t-shirt that does an oh-so-excellent job of calming my trying-too-hard fears?  Well, no... because WHY THE HELL do I even buy clothes if I'm not going to wear them!  (I had to give myself a little shake there).  As you can see from my photo, I decided it was time to put my qualms to rest and wear my fabulous top.  And ya know what?  Not one person I passed on the street gave a damn that I was trying.



Velvet top by Urban Outfitters.  Shoes by Lulu Townsend.  I made my own shorts and necklace.
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Wednesday, July 24, 2013

SKIN TIGHT


During the time of my sexually formative years, I was developing this theory about women's clothing, a theory encouraged by my then Abercrombie-wearing sister, that certain clothes were intimidating to men and if I wanted a boyfriend I better stop wearing patterned lace tights under my capri pants and stick to jeans and body hugging t-shirts.  Because why would I want to draw attention to my ankles with a cool pattern when I could opt to show off my blooming little ta-tas and, on the off chance they were big enough, even snatch myself a boyfriend?  At 14 it was really that simple: big tits equaled infinite power (arguably true at most ages).

Now at 22, a whooping nine years out of junior high, and I'm starting to rethink my theory.  Men still like breasts and women still like breasts.  That hasn't changed and fortunately never will, but the funny thing about men is that the good ones mature, and around the same time I stopped buying mini skirts so short that my bare ass touched the chair was also about the time I started meeting boys who thought girls were attractive with or without tight clothes and that being able to see the curve of a breast was not the end all be all of hotness.

I whole heartedly agree.

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Tuesday, July 23, 2013

CHEAP TUESDAYS



I've never been the type of girl to spend more than $20 on a pair of earrings, or in the case of these cheapies $5.  Mmhmm thank goodness for plastic.

Forever 21 earrings.

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Monday, July 22, 2013

"HOW-TO" AVOIDING


The most popular post I see on fashion blogger's sites is the "how-to" post.  "How to wear all black in the summer" or "8 ways to wear bows".  Considering the fashion blog as a petal from the rose of inspiration, the how-to makes perfect sense, and, as most readers will agree, the list format guarantees at least a skim through of major points.  But here is my thought on the matter:  Frankly, I don't need to read anymore how-to lists.  If I wanted to know how best to wear pastel pants I would pick up a magazine or read something impersonal like vogue.com.  Blogs are not magazines; and we often don't have the man-power to become one.  But wait, before you start beating me like a judgmental horse, let me explain what I'm leaning toward.  Now I'm finding myself in unfamiliar territory being a new blogger, but I know what I like.  When I go internet troving, I'm attracted to my fellow fashion blogger's perspective, insight, and wit (extra points if you're a little obnoxious).  It's 10 times more entertaining to read a blogger's honest-to-god opinion than a list of instructions.  There is a reason so many Ikea desk sets take weeks to put together.  Why cocoon yourself into a formula already saturated by fashion media, or worse: forget your potential powerhouse voice?  If you work alone on your blog, sans collaborator, partner, or supervisor, you're in control, you lucky bastard.  Speaking as one who worked at a college campus magazine, compromise can be a bitch and trying too hard not to say anything offensive can turn into not saying anything at all.  Being able to spew my uncensored thoughts, relevant to fashion, was one reason I started blogging.

Those are my thoughts.  Now tell me yours.
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Sunday, July 21, 2013

MARILYN OR MARYANN?













Ignoring obvious hair color and body shape differences between the former and myself, I'll admit that I enjoy the occasional daydream in which I am transformed into a breathy-speaking bedroom eye squinter.  MaryAnn on the other hand, I could do without (and apparently so could Gilligan.  Do you remember "and the rest"?).  But, let's leave my opinions behind and focus on the real matter at hand: gingham.  Picnic daywear, All-American country (my mom's words), or could we call it chic?

Images via Fan Pop and Gdefon.ru


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5 UNFORTUNATE FACTS ABOUT LIPSTICK


I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  It is so freaking hard to wear lipstick almost all the time and yet I don't really hear anyone else complaining about it.  My older sister used to tell me that lipgloss was for girls and lipstick was for women.  (Which am I at 22?)  Anyway, lipgloss has always bequeathed to me one problem: that of the wind and the blowing hair.  Lipsticks, my preferred method of lacquer has several, slightly less detrimental, but equally annoying problems.

1. It is near impossible to eat lunch food with a bright color on my lips.  I want to keep the pigment on my lips and off of my sandwich, bagel, or (insert complicated food item here).  This is quite a difficult problem to overcome unless you are comfortable holding your lips away from your food while you eat, and that's just silly.

2. How do I get it to go on evenly?  If I moisturize right before applying, the color doesn't soak in enough and my lips look greasy.  If I don't moisturize my lips become too dry which leads me to my third problem.

3. Sometimes my lips peel when they get dry and then the color comes right off with it.  There is nothing worse than pink, red, or purple lip skin coming loose.  Don't even pretend it doesn't happen to you.

4. How do you kiss with lipstick on?  My man friend and I have developed a system of the lightest lip graze ever when he sees my lips a little less naked than usual.  But what if I feel really passionate and want to throw myself on top of him?  I could wipe my lips off first (r.i.p. beautiful lips), or I could just smush my lips onto his and get it on both of us (r.i.p beautiful lips).  

5. The red pigment in lipstick is made from cochineal insects.  This is not actually that big of a deal, however, when you consider that far worse ingredients are consumed when eating... just about anything.

This hasn't been a very educational post (it's really just downright complaining), but then again a little perspective on the crazy stuff we paint on our faces can be nice too.

Got any lipstick suggestions?  I want them all!

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Saturday, July 20, 2013

HUGGING BUNNY




I have repealed the No Money to be Spent on Frivolities Act in favor of Let's Buy A New Ring Policy. Yes, in my bracelet and ring wearing history, I have turned a new leaf, and the result: a left arm and middle finger so keenly decorated in femininity that my breasts are whimpering with jealousy.

ASOS ring and bracelet.
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Thursday, July 11, 2013

LET'S LOVE LONG: ODE TO A DENIM JACKET




Don’t you love it when you find that you still own a jacket, pair of pants, or ____________ (fill in appropriate item of clothing) from over eight years ago, and it still fits?  Personally, this never happens with my pants because I always seem to gain enough extra flubber around my midsection to make said pants sit somewhere around my thighs.  On the torso end of the spectrum, however, I’ve had great luck in the form of an Old Navy denim jacket.  The purchase occurred in the in the fifth grade, making my jacket an 11 year old relic which I once wore with the purpose of hiding my mosquito bite breasts before wearing a bra became a necessity.

Moving onward.  How in the world does it still fit?  I’ve come up with two reasons:  1. The jacket is a testament to my old insistence of buying everything one size up in the fear that I would outgrown it the next season.  2. Such miracles should not be over-ridden with thought.

Your turn.  Any clothing from your past you want to share?
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Tuesday, July 9, 2013

HOW I FEEL AFTER READING A FASHION MAGAZINE



Like I need everything in the world and right now.

A good portion of my teenage summers were spent on my parent’s back patio in a straps-left-dangling-around-my-breasts swimsuit.  My skin baked so I can achieve the perfect tan; achieve it again and again. And because baking skin is not a comfortable feeling, a lap of fashion magazines helped to break up the time between my front and my ass.  There was Seventeen, Allure, Marie Claire, and InStyle.  And being my closet-doubting self, a hideous disease in it's own right, I compiled a list of future purchases gleaned straight my favorite mags. 

My latest episode, with a tragic copy of Marie Claire, happened this way: I saw a photograph of a woman in a casual checked blazer with slicked back blonde hair.  I pictured my closet in front of me, my clothes, or what I could remember of them… What did I have, even?  A few blazers that I loved but never wore.  But, I’ll wear checks and can wear it without a top, just a lacey bra, and jeans, and look like I’m not just a kid, and maybe to a big event!  I could dye my hair too.  My listing binge left me feeling only a little inspired and a lot like my brain could not rest, because I needed more than just a checked blazer to look fashionable.

A few years later and I say fuckity fuck those magazines!  I may look at your pretty pictures, but I won’t fall under your evil spell!  No.  No.  But thanks all the same.

So, what now?  If I was over fashion, I wouldn’t be writing about it.  And make no mistake, I am not over it, don’t let my pretending fool you.  But I am trying to be over letting fashion magazines cause me, and my closet, to feel inadequate.  Frankly said, I'm spending less time teetering on the edge of irrational clothing worship in favor of independent thought.  And in the spirit of this freedom fostering post, there is of course always the promise that if I'm able to get out of my pajamas in the morning (sometimes an usually hard task), I get the chance to create, buy, and wear on my terms.  
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