Shorts and Stripes

Drafts:

Earlier Drafts:
I started wearing this jacket again when I realized I could cuff the sleeves, and I wore it again with these Chucks in an All-American look.
I showed you these walking shorts before I altered them, and I've been wearing these wedges nonstop since I bought them to re-energize my summer wardrobe.

Composition:
antiqued gold finish earrings (Charlotte Russe)
navy cotton jacket (Gap Outlet)
nautical stripe tank (Gap)
white walking length shorts (Old Navy, altered)
white short shorts (Old Navy)
white wedges (MIA)
white sneakers (Converse Chuck Taylors)

Usage:
After weeks and weeks of searching, I finally found the perfect navy and white nautical striped top-- for $4 at gap.com!  I love navy and white, and I love how crisp they look together, so when I started seeing this trend on other blogs a few months back, I fell hook line and sinker for it (too much with the nautical talk?).  I hope you guys are feeling the nautical-inspired love because I can already tell that I'm going to try to find a million different ways to wear this tank.  (Starting again on Saturday when the U.S. takes on Ghana in the World Cup!)

For my first try, I paired the tank with white short shorts and my chucks in an attempt to beat the unbearable heat when I went out to run errands with my husband.  I've already boasted about how comfortable I am with my runner's legs, so it might not be a surprise that I wear short shorts, though I completely understand why plenty of women feel ambivalent about them.  Oscar seems to be questioning my shoe choice, but I liked how the Chucks gave the look a sporty Americana-esque feel.

Then I immediately began thinking about how I could get away with wearing this tank to work.  I knew it would look great under my navy jacket, so I thought I'd go white on the bottom again.  I  pulled out these "are they cropped pants or are they walking shorts?" shorts, cut off the hem, and cuffed them over.  I've had these "shorts" for several years, and I have no idea why it never occurred to me to alter them before.  My creativity must have been inspired by my love of this tank and my frequent pilgrimage to the blogs written by ladies who regularly modify their own clothing.  I can already tell they'll get much more wear like this.

Finally, I love the nautical stripes with navy and white, but I also like them with pops of contrasting colors.  Though my favorite nail color of this summer, OPI's Mod-ern Girl, only provides a very small pop of color, I think it completes the look.  I put this orange hued jelly polish on my nails several weeks ago and have worn it nearly every day since.  It never chips!  I do think that keeping your nails short is key when you're wearing an almost-neon shade like this, though.

Prompts:

•  Have you embraced this nautical-inspired trend or are you resisting it?
• Should I hem these walking shorts or keep them cuffed?  (You can click to enlarge if you want to get a better look at the cuffs.)  I'm afraid my cuffing obsession is approaching the level of my belting obsession.  Feel free to stage an inter-cuff-tion.
• Can you wear shorts to work, or is that a no-no in your workplace?  I think these are walking shorts are suitable for working on campus during the summer, but I might not teach in this ensemble.
• Are you buying my claim that my orange nails serve as an adequate pop of color?  What apparel color should I try pairing with my nautical stripes next?

In the Buff (with a Side of Americana)

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
Liz channeled Americana

Composition:
red chinos, Bermuda Shorts style (Old Navy)
blue cotton peasant top (H&M)
grey blazer (Gap)
flesh-toned suede heels (Seychelles via Piperlime)
nail polish (OPI "Parlez-vous OPI?")

Usage:
Advocates of nude shoes everywhere: I am a new convert to your doctrine!

Today I had intended to riff off of Liz's post on "national" style, so I had composed what I considered an Americana color scheme - red and blue, plus the peasant top has a jean look to it - with another 'national' classic - the blazer - thrown in for interest.   On my way to a haircut appointment, I donned the flesh-toned heels as an afterthought.  Let me tell you, I am convinced of their miracle-working power.

Before purchasing these shoes several weeks ago, I had discounted the advice of style sages who recommended nude heels as a necessity for every woman's wardrobe.  A skin-toned pump will elongate the leg and, what's more, will act as a true closet workhorse, they said.  I liked my patterned kicks and colorful wedges, thank you very much, and I didn't see the need to shop around for what inevitably would be the palest skin-toned sandal ever.

Then I caved.
Almost.
These heels sat in my Piperlime shopping basket for three days.
I debated.
(They really won't make me look paler?)
And then I conceded.

Having only worn these sandals three times, I'm already pleased with my purchase.  I have officially identified my summer staple.  Now I know what nude shoe advocates mean when they say "nude equals neutral."  It means, "Yes, in fact, I can wear this with absolutely every item in my closet."

Which leads me to ask, what are your closet 'neutrals,' the items that pair well with anything and everything?

Prompts:

• Tell us about 'em!  What are your closet 'neutrals'? 
• Any other nude shoe success stories you'd like to share?  We're all ears!
• What do you think of my interpretation of the Americana color scheme?  
• I'm also wondering how the nude shoe trend acts as an extension of the nude makeup trend, which Katie alludes to here.  Does our collective fashion conscience think nude equals most beautiful?  If so, why?  Do we feel an impulse to down-play our assets or do we simply like our au naturale selves enough to gesture at them in our dressing habits?

All-American Style

Revised Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
Anne-Marie shared her jet-setting style
I brushed the dust off this jacket

Composition:
turquoise beaded necklace (Kohl's)
white t-shirt (American Eagle)
blue cotton blazer (Gap Outlet)
jeans (Gap)
sneakers (Converse Chuck Taylor)

Usage:
As part of our ongoing discussion of simplicity and questioning of the idea of a "national" style, I thought I'd contribute one of the quintessential "American" looks:  jeans and a white t-shirt.  Growing up in California, we were taught that jeans were an American invention of the gold rush era.  Levi Strauss had been using a heavy cotton material to make tents for the miners when he realized that the same material could be used to make very sturdy pants.  Enter Jacob Davis, who suggested adding the rivets, and the "Blue Jean" was born.  You can read the history of the jean according to Levis Strauss & Co here.  Calling this an "American" invention seems problematic, since Strauss and many of the miners were immigrants, and they were mining gold in a region that the U.S. had only recently acquired from Mexico.  But they didn't tell us that in 4th grade, naturally.

I also have a strong mental association between jeans and US citizens because of the only trip I've made overseas.  When I spent time in Ireland with my friends in 2004, none of us could pack heavily, so we each brought two pairs of jeans.  Everywhere we went, we were almost the only women wearing jeans.  When we walked into pubs, people called us Americans before we spoke a word.  I imagine jeans were not the only visual marker of our foreign-ness, but they were certainly the most obvious difference I could recognize.

Recently, we experienced another indication that the jean is quintessentially American.  Burton, who is developing a tradition of creating U.S. Olympic Snowboard Team uniforms to resemble staples of Americana, fashioned the 2010 uniform to look like a pair of jeans with a flannel shirt.  In 2006, Burton designed a white pinstriped uniform intended to resemble vintage pinstriped baseball uniforms.  Why is our snowboard team invested in trying to look so "American"?  I don't know this for sure, but I imagine it's because we think of snowboarding as an American invention and want to differentiate ourselves on the hill as the originators of the sport.  I do know that those snowboard jeans caused quite a stir in Vancouver!

When I put this look together, I was meeting a friend for breakfast and some shopping.  Normally I would have worn this blazer and jeans combination with a white button down and a pair of flats, but I drew some inspiration from Anne-Marie's "jet-setting" look in hopes of making my ensemble more casual but still pulled together.  I really like the combination of the fitted jacket with the more casual Chuck Taylors, which is a shoe that I also consider iconically "American."  (Mr. Taylor and his basketball shoe deserve a post of their own, so I'll go into more detail about them in the future.)

Prompts:

• I get the feeling that jeans are more ubiquitous overseas these days.  For those of you who travel or live in Europe, how frequently do you see or wear them?
• Any other good stories about jeans and Americana that you want to share?
• Is there a different clothing item that you think is a strong signifier of American-ness?
• How have you used styles you've seen on fashion/style blogs to inform your own dressing choices?  If so, how?

What do you accentuate?

Draft:

Composition:
navy dress (H&M)
navy and pink polka dot pumps (Payless)

Usage:
Last weekend, I attended a bridal shower for one of my best friends.  I've known her since we were five years old, so we've seen each other through many fashion (and life) ups and downs (see: stir-up pants).  I was happy to celebrate her upcoming marriage, where I know for a fact that her wedding dress will be a fashion DO.

Unfortunately, the cold and rainy weather on the day of the shower caused me to scuttle my plans to wear a fresh, spring dress or my frothy sea-foam colored skirt (which is lovely and part of an upcoming post).  So instead, as part of thinking about one-and-done outfits, I wore this shirt dress.  The color is dark enough to fit the dreary weather, but the dress itself is not heavy or too winter-y.  Mostly, I love the simplicity and ease of this. The built-in belt gives the dress shape, accentuating my hourglass figure.  The solid color and simple cut make this dress a perfect vehicle for fun shoes.

I love the way that these shoes add whimsy to genre of the peep toe pump.  The light pink polka dots are lighthearted, fun, and youthful, and the little poof at the toe just enhances the playfulness.  They're a great way to lighten up an outfit -- perfect for this occasion, where they transition the classic, more professional dress into a social, more outgoing context.

I want to place this outfit in the ongoing conversation on our blog about under-styling and over-styling and the questions raised about varying philosophies regarding layering and the use of accessories (with some great conversations going on in the comments!).  Namely, I want to question my own fashion decision to under-style it.  The reason I did was two-fold.  1) As I mentioned, I like the way that this dress highlights my natural curves, and by keeping it simple, I think it works as a showcase for my body shape. 2) I have a strong belief in the way shoes make a statement, though sometimes that focus makes me neglect the other aspects of my ensemble.  Now, unlike the other outfits in our blog discussion, mine does not employ a bold print.  In fact, if I want to turn a very critical eye to the dress, it could look like a stewardess dress.  Keeping that in mind, I wonder if in the future I should pair it with a different belt (maybe a pink one?) and/or a nice necklace (perhaps a gold pendant?).

Prompts:

• How else could I style this dress?  And do I look like a stewardess?
• When you look for statement pieces, what kinds of accessories do you like to accentuate?  Jewelry?  Shoes?  Scarves?  Hats?
• Do you typically dress to show off your assets or hide (perceived) flaws?

American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity

Over the past week, we've been having an interesting conversation about whether one can identify characteristics of "American" style and how we might differentiate between it and "European" style.  We began discussing it in Anne-Marie's post, Dressing simply with patterns, and Liz followed up by posting Pattern Styling Experiment, Take Two.  As it turns out, this is a great time to be exploring this question!  This spring's exhibit at The Costume Institute of The Metropolitan Museum of Art is going to be called "American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity."  The Met's press release for the exhibit explains,

"The exhibition, on view from May 5 through August 15, 2010 (preceded on May 3 by The Costume Institute Gala Benefit), will explore developing perceptions of the modern American woman from the 1890s to the 1940s, and how they have affected the way American women are seen today. Focusing on archetypes of American femininity through dress, the exhibition will reveal how the American woman initiated style revolutions that mirrored her social, political, and sexual emancipation. Early mass-media representations of American women established the fundamental characteristics of American style – a theme that will be explored via a multimedia installation in the final gallery."

For more information, visit the press release here.  Looks like it might be time for a Scholar Style Guide field trip!

Pattern Styling Experiment, Take Two

Drafts:

Composition:
fuschia animal print wrap dress (Express)
black cami (Old Navy)
black wedges (Lauren by Ralph Lauren)
beaded headband (NY& Co)
pewter disc earrings (Charlotte Russe)
beaded necklace (NY& Co)
black cardi (NY& Co)
black patent belt (Forever 21)
black patterned tights (Target)

Usage:
Anne-Marie's post from Wednesday, in which she offered an alternative definition of "overdressed," got me thinking about my own styling choices.  How often am I guilty of "over-styling" a look?  My own juxtaposition of different looks on Tuesday also gave me a different perspective on those styling choices.

So, I wanted to keep that conversation going by experimenting with "under-styling" and "over-styling" the boldest pattern in my closet.  The color, print, and cut of this dress work together to ensure that it's something I'd never wear alone unless I was feeling particularly adventurous.  I doubt I would have bought it to begin with if it hadn't been on clearance.  After snapping a photo of the dress by itself, I piled on all the various accessories I have worn with this dress in the past.  I've never worn all of these accessories together, but  I'm not sure anyone would think twice if I showed up on campus sporting all of these items.  I probably tend to over-style more frequently than I under-style.

I think this dress is best with a cardigan, which helps to mitigate the impact of the bold color and print.  If forced to choose between the two looks today, though, I'd probably choose the one on the left.  Before Anne-Marie's post got me thinking about overdressing in this way, though, I might have chosen the one on the right.  Now that she's asked me to think about it,  I'm uncomfortable with the way that piling on accessories says "Look at all these commodities I own!"

Prompts:

• Okay, be honest: would you ever leave the house in a fuschia animal print dress?  Or should I have left it on the sale rack?
• What's your analysis of the under-styled look versus the over-styled one?
• Which look do you think is more similar to those featured on other "fashion" and "style" blogs you read?  Have you noticed a difference in the styling choices made by Americans and those made by residents of other countries on these blogs?  Share links!
• I'm also wondering to what degree these styling choices are as much (or possibly more) governed by class status as they are by nationality/regionality.  Do high profile people in the American fashion industry really style themselves differently than high profile people involved in the fashion industry in European nations?

Dressing simply with patterns

Drafts:

Composition:
patterned dress (Target)
ring (grandmother's costume jewelry box)
yellow wedges (Nine West)
nail polish (OPI Tickle My France-y)

Usage:
Last month, Liz tackled the overdressed versus underdressed debate, and she related her tendency to overdress.  Today, I'd like to redefine the terms and propose some merits of underdressing.

As I see it, there are two ways to define overdressing.  First, one could define it as Liz did in her post: overdressing means "I took this event a little too seriously."  It signifies inappropriate or excessive formality.  Second, one could define overdressing like so: "I'm wearing more accessories than a Coach model."  In this case, overdressed signifies something slightly different.  It means the outfit is excessively styled or overly adorned.  Of course, the two definitions of overdressing may overlap in meaning, but I still maintain the distinction between them.  Wearing a single cocktail dress to a backyard barbecue - definition #1 - is not the same as complicating an outfit by layering multiple garments or jewelry items - definition #2.

The latter condition would make Coco Chanel roll over in her grave.  She advised women to remove at least one accessory before leaving the house, because she advocated the "less is more" rule.  So I imagine she might shudder at the simultaneously belted, hatted, hosiery-ed, sock-ed, cardigan-ed, necklace-d, earring-ed, bracelet-ed women of contemporary America.

I distinguish hyper-accessorized ladies as American not only to gesture at Coco Chanel's Frenchness, but also to introduce my cause for interrogation.  Lately I've stumbled upon a few essays which present the French woman's adherence to simplicity as a remedy for the American woman's supposed addiction to layering.  The American woman hides behind her clothing, say these fashion critics, and she therefore over-constructs ensembles.  That's why most of us are adept at executing this formula:

Cami + Cardigan + Belt + Jacket + Scarf

And why we saw so much of the Tights + Socks + Boots concoction this winter.
And why we're still seeing the Leggings + Dress + Cardigan + Belt combo now.

Alternately, the French woman relies on a single article of clothing to carry her look.  The black dress, the expensive coat, or the signature bag.  She does not succumb to the impulse to wear all interesting wardrobe items at once, which leaves her looking effortless and draws attention to her natural beauty rather than to her fashion sense.

Or so they say.
The argument has merit, as I see it.  When I studied in Barcelona, I noticed the same trend among Spanish women.  They rode the metro, walked the dog, and dined out in their finest, but they rarely looked overdone to my eyes.  They did insist on minimizing their looks, though.  My host mother, even, who was well into her 60s, chastised me often for wearing "too much."  Her wardrobe was smaller than mine - European women invested in signature pieces, she explained, and did not collect clothing - but to her it was more valuable.  I owned a dozen department store jackets; she owned two Yves Saint Laurent coats.

To her, the expensive garments enabled simple dressing, and their ability to stand on their own imparted more value than did their brand.  Admittedly, her impulse to pare down ensembles encouraged me, because I'm not one to match and coordinate and compose my outfits, and I grew up thinking this was negligent.  In fact, the closest my (wonderful! dear!) mother and I ever came to an all-out brawl was during my high school senior portrait session; she wanted me to wear the pearl necklace and the earrings, and I insisted on wearing one or the other.  I thought wearing both would make me look overdressed, like I had over-styled.  To my self-conscious 18 year old self, over-accessorizing reeked of pretension.  (Why I felt this way I cannot remember.  I may have considered pearl jewelry a decidedly 'adult' thing to wear, and the reasons behind this perception merit another post.)

In the same way, style critics suggest, excessively styled (often layered) outfits convey considerable effort.  And effort is not the same as thoughtfulness.  Liz suggests this supposedly American tendency to excessively layer clothing might coincide with the impulse to accumulate material items.  If so, the issue is one of value:  how and why do we transmit value to certain articles of clothing?

Today I'm experimenting with simplification, so I appreciate a garment with a strong pattern that can sustain a look without requiring enhancement from additional pieces.  Of course, the average French woman shuns patterns in favor of sophisticated, solid neutrals, so I'm departing a bit from my source of inspiration.  Still, I embrace the purportedly European concept of dressing simply, and I think patterned fabrics lend themselves to it.  It follows, then, that I appreciate this jersey knit dress, even though the same pattern in polyester would make me look like a veritable 1970s housewife.  (A martini in hand, cat-eye makeup, and the B-52s background music would round out the aesthetic.)  The black and white palette provides the option of pairing shoes and accessories of any color, the fabric is comfortable, and the belted waist offers structure.  But the best part of the dress?  It doesn't require a camisole, jacket, cardigan, belt, necklace, or scarf of any kind.

Prompts:

• What do you think of my proposed definitions of overdressed?  Disagree, agree, or agree with edits?
• How do you diagnose the layering trend?
• What are your favorite ways to wear patterned pieces?