Change and Predictability

Draft:

Composition:
black wool sweater (Loft)
grey trousers (Gap)
black patent heels (Nine West)
stud earrings, my latest favorites (Juicy Couture)
chain and fabric necklace (Icing)  -- Yes, it's shedding on my collar! It's definitively not high quality.
nail color (OPI "You Don't Know Jacques!")

Usage:
In response to Liz's complimentary post about my supposed ability to "manage uncertainty," today I'm sharing one of my most predictable ensembles.  Why?  Because, now that I'm spending more time in the classroom, I'm learning why experienced teachers like Liz prefer the manageable expectations of simple, go-to outfits.  For the first time, I get it.  Sartorial predictability is comforting when daily dynamics entail enough fluctuating factors.

Wearing this uncomplicated look took my mind off the clothes, allowing me to focus on instructing.  It didn't require the perpetual readjusting of layered garments, and it didn't necessitate the tugging on shorter hemlines or lower necklines.  The minimal jewelry and monochrome palette were less distracting for both me and, hopefully, for my students.  Which makes me think: there might be ways in which sartorial choices can detract from our abilities.  (Ah ha! An epiphany!  Don't laugh, I'm slow on the uptake.)  Sartorial boldness doesn't always allow for professional and intellectual boldness, that is.

Normally I subscribe to the opposite view.  I think, if I challenge myself intellectually, pushing myself to read new literature and entertain bold ideas, then why not also challenge myself sartorially?  Especially since, as this blog and your own attest, we consider issues of aesthetics an important component of education.  In the world of the mind, we like trying on new thoughts, and we welcome encounters with the uncomfortable.  Evolutions of knowledge and opinion are generally good things; they often indicate growth.  So it follows that we would consider personal style evolutions good things too; they can also indicate growth.

Cutting and dyeing my hair or pairing seemingly incongruous garments -- both enable experimentation with new articulations of myself.  Even if I don't adhere to them permanently or even long-term (as in the case of my cinnamon hair hue, which is merely a demi-permanent dye, I should tell you), at least I can test the waters.  How did Aristotle put it?  "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."  Perhaps it's the same with sartorial choices: dabbling in a hairstyle, or a print, or a bright color, without necessarily permanently accepting it into our self-concepts, is productive if only because the courageous choice allows us to think anew about the social spaces we occupy.  It's a worthwhile initiative, I'd say, to challenge ourselves aesthetically.  That's why I quite like blogging alongside you guys, and why I welcome the occasional dramatic hair transformation.

For now, as long as my substitute teaching endeavor lasts, I'll be entertaining choices on Liz's side of the style fence.  I have quite a bit to learn about, as she says, "preparing, preparing, anticipating, and preparing."  For me, resisting spontaneity will be a grand -- and worthwhile -- sartorial adventure.

Prompts:

•  How do you "prepare, prepare, anticipate, and prepare" sartorially?  I have no idea what I'm doing, so I'd welcome your strategies.  I've begun laying out ensembles the night before work -- does this count?
•   Liz asked this question yesterday, and I think it's a good one: how do you get yourself out of a rut?  How do you challenge your patterns of style?

Hair Metamorphosis

Draft:

Composition:
emerald short-sleeved sweater (Merona)
marigold swing jacket (NY&Co)
grey pleated shorts (F21)
black sheer tights (?)
black suede wedges (DKNYC)
nail color (OPI "You Don't Know Jacques!")

below:
marigold suede bag (gifted)
jeweled brooch (Macy's) 

Usage:
Today's visit to the salon reminded me of the transformative power of dyed and chopped locks.  I haven't dramatically altered my hairstyle since last Thanksgiving, when I asked my stylist to hack away at my then-shoulder-length curls.  Since that fateful chop, I've hovered around Bob-cut territory, sometimes requesting near-pixie looks, and sometimes declaring "growing out" periods (which never lasted longer than a month).  When I sought her advice on remedying this hair ambivalence, my friend Caitlin of Frosting and Bows (who has known me and my hair since the second grade) suggested that I dye my blonde head red.  Auburn, really.  I wanted to heed her advice, I sincerely did, which is why I dabbled in cinnamon weeks ago.  (Didya notice?  It was subtle.)  Alas, I couldn't muster the courage for even a semi-permanent hue.

But today, without specific intention, I took the plunge back into a Bobbed 'do and full-on into auburn.  More like, I fell into auburn accidentally.  See, I snapped these photos earlier today before scooting out to what was supposed to be a "quick trim."  I had aimed to post about cold weather shorts:

I hadn't prepared for a hair transformation.  However, a few snips and a spontaneous bottle of allover color later, and I'm suddenly an inductee to both the Bangs and Redhead Clubs.  Spice o' life, I tell you.  Spice o' life.

Prompts:

• What's the boldest hairstyle you've ever tried?  The most spontaneous?
• What factors usually prompt you to change hairstyles?  Relationships, career moves, geographic moves, new exercise regimens, or something else?
• I've heard it said that older women typically model their hairstyles after those of their favorite life phases.  Do you think this theory holds water?  If so, what have been your favorite life phases, and what did your hair look like during these times?

Back in the Saddle

Draft:

Composition:
white pleated button-down (Martin & Osa)
grey blazer (Gap)
plaid skirt (Loft)
grey tights (Hue)
riding boots (Etienne Aigner via DSW)

Usage:
On the last day of May I declared a personal hiatus from the formal classroom.  Today, five months later, I'm returning to school.  Although I'm only filling in as a substitute teacher, I'm excited and nervous to operate in an academic setting again.

Today I'm sporting equestrian-inspired footwear to commemorate jumping back in the academic saddle.  My skills may be rusty, but my enthusiasm for education has undergone a revival.  Giving myself a breather, exploring other employment options, and reacquainting myself with arts education have reminded me how much I enjoy learning.  Here's hoping that energy sustains me through this period of re-training.

Not only is this new teaching experience allowing me to exercise a dormant part of my brain, but it's also enabling me to explore a neglected section of my closet: professional clothes.  Months ago, when I felt overwhelmed by DIY house projects, I longed for this day.  Now I'm relishing the break from casual apparel and embracing professional attire.

I especially like that the changes in my employment coincide with the changes in season.  It infuses the "turning over a new leaf" concept with new meaning.  (And there's a bit of schmaltz to get you through Friday.)

Enjoy the weekend!

Prompts:

• I mentioned that my professional clothes have been on vacation until now.  Do you organize your closet according to context -- sorting clothes into "casual" and "professional" categories -- or do you cross-purpose your clothes to suit a variety of settings?
• Is this outfit overly themed?  Too, erm, suitable for a polo match?
• Teachers, what are your favorite go-to ensembles?

Thoughts on Fur

Draft:

Composition:
cream cotton bow-tie top (Halogen via Nordstrom)
faux fur vest (Old Navy)
orange print skirt (Tucker for Target, gifted)
brown tights (Merona)
suede and leather boots (Franco Sarto via DSW)

Usage:
Today I attempt to parse my fist-pumping affection for the current furlike garment revival.  I can't decide if I'm for the democratization of fur in its less expensive faux forms, or if I'm legitimately opposed to authentic animal-derived garments.  Perhaps both.  Except, if the latter holds true for me, then I'd have to ditch these leather boots on ethical grounds.  And, frankly, I like leather.  Why doesn't wearing leather make me uncomfortable in the same way wearing genuine animal hair makes me uneasy?  It's likely that the tanning process so de-characterizes animal hides that it renders them unrecognizable, making it easier for wearers like me to disassociate the product from the source.  Not so with animal fur.  I wore a faux rabbit hair vest to class once, and, upon hugging me, a student declared she had "caught a bunny."

Not only do ethical issues make me uneasy about wearing genuine fur, but the same issues make me wary about the mere semblance of the authentic.  To the extent that, when wearing faux fur, I feel it necessary -- albeit ridiculous -- to preface all garment-related (ok, and -unrelated) conversation with "Don't worry,this isn't real."  Which is what I did yesterday while sporting this Old Navy vest.  (I can confirm that framing smalltalk in such a way ensures awkward social situations.)  If the mere suggestion of the authentic makes me bristle, then why not consider prints like the one Katie interrogated yesterday problematic?  Sure, gesturing at animal-derived material via printed cotton is less threatening, but exactly which garments warrant moral unease?  Only the real animal-derived clothes, or the ones that gesture at the real too?

I ask because this weekend, between handing out candy to costumed neighborhood kids, my husband and I chatted about our favorite childhood Halloween get-ups.  A psychologist's son, my husband noted that he was restricted or spared from (depending on your interpretation) wearing costumes that referenced violence or included pretend weapons.  "Why?" I asked. "Fake weapons are, well, fake."  To which he responded, "The semblance of the real can be problematic -- even harmful -- too."  Fair enough.

Should the same principle apply to fur?

Prompts:

• Ok, no holds barred, where do you stand on the animal fur issue?  Do you wear genuine animal hair garments, faux animal hair garments?  Do you wear animal prints?
• If you don't wear genuine animal fur for ethical reasons, then please elaborate on them.  As I'm thinking through this issue, it'd be helpful to hear your rationale.
• Since I mentioned leather too, what do you think about wearing it?  I haven't sufficiently researched the processes for preparing either animal fur or leather, so I'm wondering if they differ in important ways.
• On a lighter note, blogging friends weren't kidding when they raved over the Tucker for Target line.  This skirt is ubercomfortable, and the print works in my wardrobe even better than I expected.  Huzzah!

Diverse Demographics & An Interview

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
These T-strap heels accompanied me to Saturday brunch with my parents.
This leather belt cinched together a hybrid dressy/casual look.

Composition:
turquoise button-down shirt (Old Navy)
fuchsia cardigan (Loft Petites, borrowed from sister)
brown pants (Ann Taylor Petites)
leather belt (Ann Taylor)
brown metallic T-strap heels (Anne Klein)
turquoise cuff bracelet (Leighelena in Austin, Texas, purchased at half-price)
brown leather laptop bag (gifted from mom)

Usage:
Happy Friday, all!  Will you excuse my photos today?  The Mean Girls scowl on my face is courtesy of the direct sunlight, which chased me around my home's perimeter for a half-hour.  I finally found relief in a sliver of shadow on the back patio, and, welp, here are the results.  Can't win 'em all.  If only my schedule allowed for late afternoon, instead of mid-morning, outdoor photos.

Anyway, I wore this ensemble yesterday for an interview at a local private school.  It wasn't my first time meeting the administrative faculty (more on that in a moment), so I opted for a comfortable alternative to my standard blazer, this berry-hued short-sleeved cardigan.  Aren't the shirred sleeves an interesting feature?  At first I feared the girlish detailing might read too juvenile for a professional setting, but I mitigated the cutesy-ness with the collared shirt, belt, and tailored trousers.  Looking "too young" is my personal paranoia -- is it obvious yet?  What's your take on this outfit's professional register?

Also, I kind of dig this color trio.

On the having-met-the-faculty-before topic: this semester I've been serving as Assistant Ballet Teacher in the school's extracurricular program. The students and their parents are delightful, which is why I'm hoping to substitute teach during the regular school day as often as possible while I continue job hunting.  Care to share your tried-and-true strategies for successful substitute instruction?  I'd welcome them!

My latest turn in the world of arts education has me wondering about dressing to suit student demographics.  See, in addition to instructing at the aforementioned private school, I also teach ballet at a not-for-profit studio in one of the city's lower-income neighborhoods.  In fact, I teach these diverse classes back-to-back on the same day.  It makes for quite the contrast, moving from an environment of privilege to one of profound need.  Although it's true that I spend class time in a leotard and tights, I arrive in layers of street clothing.  And my students have noticed.  At the private school, they tally the number of Ralph Lauren Polo logos on my apparel; at the non-profit, they ask why I deprive my arms of bangle bracelets.  Both sets of students are acutely aware and curious of sartorial choices -- theirs and my own -- so how should I address the disparities which such choices often reveal?  What adjustments in clothing, if any, would best demonstrate social sensitivity?

Prompts:

•  Have you taught students of lower-income populations?  Of higher-income populations?  How did you dress for the classroom?  How did you discuss sartorial issues with your students?
• Any substitute teaching tips?  I'm all ears!
• What's your take on my latest interview look?

Reviving Old Clothes

Draft:

Earlier Draft:
These light wash boyfriend jeans are some of my favorites.  Our blogging friend Caitlin considers the dark wash versions her fall must-haves, too!

Composition:
grey patterned secretary blouse (Peppermint via Ruche)
boyfriend jeans (Gap)
brown leather belt (borrowed from sister's closet)
taupe rosette clutch (borrowed from sister's closet)
brown metallic T-strap heels (Anne Klein)

Usage:
Last weekend I traveled south to visit my parents.  Besides shopping and doing craft-y things with my mom, I spent a good portion of the time rummaging through old clothes in my former closet and my sister's.  Given that, while rummaging, I proclaimed "I can't believe I left this behind!" and "Why didn't I wear this?" with frequency, it's safe to say my perspective on clothing has evolved in recent years.  Garments I once regarded as stuffy or lame or unwearable are now gems I can't live without.

For instance, the taupe rosette clutch I toted to brunch with my parents used to be one of my least favorite items in my sister's closet.  Probably my high school self considered it immature; my current self thinks it's a lovely, go-with-everything, vintage-y (re)find.  And the wide belt I wore to the same brunch?  I distinctly remember declaring it unattractive, more suitable for my brothers than for me and my sister.  Go figure, last weekend it seemed like the perfect accent for my feminine secretary blouse.

Have you noticed similar changes in your perspective on clothing?  To what do you attribute these differences?  To revived trends, to your own creativity, or to something else?

Prompts:

• Have your styling habits changed in recent months or years?  What moments or experiences do you think caused the changes?
• What garments will you or won't you wear today that you wouldn't or would have worn years ago?
• Have you, like me, revived old pieces from past phases of life?  Or would those old garments carry a stigma for you?  I ask because an older friend recently told me she couldn't bring herself to wear 1960s-70s throwback styles because they remind her too much of who she was in that era.  I laughed, but maybe I shouldn't have.  Later in life I might feel the same way about current styles.  Who knows.

Downplaying (the blogging) and Updating (the clothing)?

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore a summer variation of this outfit here.

Composition:
grey button-down shirt (Gap)
black pants (Gap)
fedora (Target)
black belt (ShopMamie)
nude suede heels (Seychelles)

Usage:
On Tuesday I mentioned that a last-minute interview awaited me after my return from Texas, and I had every intention of posting about the outfit I wore to it today.  Academichic has hosted a fabulous interview attire round-up this week -- what better time to join the conversation?  However, the current state of the job market and my tenuous personal prospects have me paranoid about detailing an interview for which I'm still awaiting a response.  Is that irrational?  It might be.  My fear of being discovered by a potential employer on the blogosphere is likely unfounded.  Still, mind if I wait 'til next week to share?

Relatedly, do your employers or superiors or even students read your blogs or know you keep them?  Does that knowledge affect your professional relationships?  If so, how?  How do you address questions about blogging in work environments?

In the meantime, I'll share an outfit that has become my transitional fall-back during the unpredictable early autumn chill.  I built a version of this ensemble in August, when sleeveless tops were still wearable and fedoras felt smooth in a "Summertime and the livin's easy" sort of way.  The fedora has followed me into fall because I'm growing out my hair, and the current awkward length of my locks necessitates a hat.  (The in-between stage of growing hair is a real drag, isn't it?  But I'm certain there's a useful life-lesson metaphor to it.  Something about having to endure awkward phases while achieving one's goals.  Hm.)  In the coming months I plan to break out my cloche hats and knitted beanies, but I'm in no hurry.  Winter will require me to wear hats from December to March, after all, so I'll eat my fill of them eventually.  Have you adapted any summertime outfits for autumn?

Happy Weekending!

Prompts:

• Do your colleagues, students, or employers know about or read your blogs?  How do you address questions about blogging in work environments?
• I already asked this question, but I'll restate it here: have you updated any favorite summertime outfits for fall?

Travel Switch

Draft:

Composition:
patterned dress (Target)
grey scarf (gifted)
grey boots (Old Navy)
navy bag (Target)
frames (United Colors of Benetton)
silver hoops (Fossil)
silver monogrammed bracelets (gifted)

Usage:
Sorry this post is coming to you late, readerfriends!  I spent yesterday traveling and returned home to a last-minute job interview, so I'm slow to begin today's tasks.  Not to mention, I didn't wear this outfit as planned during my weekend trip to Texas.  The switcheroo worked out well, except that I'm tossing my original, prepared-well-in-advance post about the dress's airplane-riding merits out the window.  Here's what went down:

Last week, I packed this dress and these boots for my return flight from Austin.  My suitcase contained enough tops and shorts to last me all three days of ACL, so this patterned frock was my intended leftover for a day of traveling.  So were the coordinated scarf, bag, and boots.  However, after arriving and inhaling that good ol' Southern humidity, I had a change of heart.  Wasn't an outdoor music festival the ideal venue for celebrating the last of summer's bright prints?  Why force fall colors and fabrics in 80 degree weather?  So, in favor of lingering in summer longer, I switched out my intended drapey burgundy tee and boyfriend jeans for this cheery frock.  I wore the boots with it, but I ditched the scarf and bag.  My motivation was simple: wear warm weather clothes while there's still time!

Are you like me, slow to retire summer's colors and fabrics, or would you have found a way to wear an autumnal look to the concert despite the weather?

Also, the change-up has me wondering about the evolution of my packing habits.  When traveling, I don't typically prepare outfits for each day.  Instead I prefer a mix-and-match method: in which everything in my suitcase goes with everything else in my suitcase, and I can pair according to each day's mood.  However, for this trip, I did prepare an outfit for each day; I planned each look down to the jewelry, in fact.  And it backfired!  I reverted to my old mix-and-match habits despite my attempts at sartorial organization.  Maybe I'm not meant for pre-planned ensembles?  Are you?  Under what circumstances would you pre-plan your looks for travel?

Prompts:

• When traveling, do you pack so that your clothes and outfits are interchangeable?  Or do you pack according to an outfit schedule and stick to it?
• When do you retire your bright "summery" prints and lightweight fabrics?  Are your choices temperature dependent or not?

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
After buying this linen blazer in Savannah, Georgia, I dubbed it one of my wardrobe workhorses.
These western style treads helped me kick off boot season.
This brown tote is too large for dinner outings, but perfect for airline travel.
These frames make me look like my mom.

Composition:
olive green strapless jersey dress (Cannot remember!  Likely snagged at TJ Maxx, since I bought it with my sister, and that's where we normally shop together.  After years of wear, it's tagless.)
linen blazer (Gap)
boots (Steve Madden)
brown tote bag (gifted via Target)
necklaces and green cocktail ring (F21)
frames (United Colors of Benetton)

Usage:
I have a hunch this ensemble was subconsciously inspired by one of my former English teachers.  It's uncanny how I've mimicked her in these photos.  Long, drapey base layer, slouchy jacket, layered jewelry, thick-rimmed frames -- even the way I'm standing in the left most photo, tall and with my weight on my left foot, recalls her usual stance at the front of the classroom.  It seems she's made an impression on me.  Do you ever find yourself adopting others' mannerisms or dressing styles as your own? 

My outfit may have been incidentally inspired by my teacher, but it was prompted by a plane trip to Texas.  Yesterday morning I hopped a flight to Austin, hot on Clare's heels.  Over the next few days I'll be visiting various family members and attending Austin City Limits Music Festival for the second time.  I'm so excited!

I'll cut to the chase, though:  I chose to wear this dress not because it's the most figure-flattering garment in my closet (it's obviously not), but because wearing it feels like being wrapped in a cozy blanket.  Which is exactly how I prefer to feel on a chilly, non-stop airplane ride.  I added the blazer for warmth -- and because it didn't fit in my suitcase -- not for aesthetics.  And the boots?  I wore them for practical reasons, too: I don't enjoy sporting open-toed shoes while jet-setting, and I especially dislike having to traipse barefoot through airport security.  So, yes, my feet are swathed in thick, unattractive (yet comfortable!) cotton-blend socks inside those booties.  Since my flight departed at 7 a.m., I'm hoping no one but the airport security officer saw them.

Assembling an outfit based on practicality is a departure for me, as is wearing a frock for airline travel.  I normally wear pants, as you can see here and here, but I kind of dig this new look (especially sans blazer).  What say you?

Prompts:

• What's your favorite item to wear for airline travel?  What's your footwear of choice?
• Have you ever worn a dress while traveling?  How'd it go?  Do you prefer the one-and-done ease of a dress, or the comfort of pants and jeans?
• About that first question: have you ever found yourself subconsciously mimicking others in your dressing habits?

Weekend Wear?

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I last wore this ruffled blouse with a pencil skirt.
I paired this purple cardi with a neon shirtdress.
I really should wear these cargo pants with something other than this top.
I count these nude flats among my wardrobe workhorses.

Composition:
ruffled blouse (thrifted)
purple cardigan (Martin & Osa)
belt (Ann Taylor)
cargo pants (Target)
nude flats (Jessica Simpson)
red lipstick (Maybelline Color Sensational in "Are You Red-dy")

Usage:
My attempts to dress less, erm, sloppily on days off have resulted in overcompensation, I'm afraid.  I wore this get-up over the weekend to grab pizza with my husband and a friend, but both of them teased me for being "too dressed up" for a Friday night.  Those rascals.  However, since they're both clothing-conscious themselves, I've given their critique some thought.

Maybe it's the shirt's ruffles, or maybe it's the layered cardigan, or the skinny belt, or the fact that I'm not in jeans, but I can see why this ensemble would read as too stuffy for a pizza-and-wine type of evening.  In my pursuit of balance between the casual and the professional, then, I'm wondering about your typical weekend wear.

Tell me, s'il vous plait ... 

Prompts:

• What do you normally wear on weekends, or in any casual/non-professional setting?  Do your dressing habits shift dramatically, or do you maintain continuity between your "off work" self and your workplace self?  (Asking this question reminds me of my dad, who, upon returning home from workdays, announces routinely that he's weary of wearing his professional "costume.")
•  Do you associate specific garments with weekends?  What are they, and why do these read "off work" to you?
• Would you have worn my outfit, or a version of it, on a weekend?  Would you have worn it to work?  What's the ideal context for such a get-up?
• Unrelatedly, but still on my brain: does the juxtaposition of the cargo pants with the ruffled blouse make the outfit more or less appealing to you? 

Rainy Day Casz

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore this classic white button-down on a return flight from summer travels.
I wore this vest in an outfit I'm almost too embarrassed over to reference.  Let's call it a lapse in judgment, shall we?  Or, better yet, a "teachable moment," because I won't make that mistake again.

Composition:
white button-down (Gap)
wool blend vest (Old Navy)
dark wash boot cut jeans (Banana Republic)
black flats (Zara)
gold necklaces (gifted)
bracelets (thrifted and/or gifted, can't recall)

Usage:
Yesterday's day-long downpour posed a dressing challenge for me.  The temperature had dropped too low for capris or shorts, and, as much as I fancy my polka-dotted galoshes, I wasn't mentally ready to flip the boots-plus-jeans switch.  Actually, I typically wear dresses on rainy days.  Jersey dresses and boots.  No soggy hemlines to contend with and all.  However, since I've been in dress overkill mode lately -- having worn frocks here and here and a few days in between -- dresses weren't appealing to me.  So what's a girl to do but call on her closet classics?

For me, a white button-down shirt and a well-fitting pair of jeans solve nearly all wardrobe dilemmas.  Uncomplicated and understated, the combination epitomizes casual elegance in my book.  You might say, as Katie did yesterday of her jeans and tees, that it's a way to downshift sartorially without stalling out.  (Does this analogy break down, drivers of manual vehicles?)

By the by, I managed to sport jeans despite the wet weather by fashioning some good ol' fashioned cuffed pant hems.  Nothing innovative here.  Nothing too chic either.  But I did remain dry while puddle-jumping.  I unrolled the cuffs after stepping indoors.

Anyway, speaking of Katie, her post yesterday helped me identify my own refreshed perspective on dressing casually.  Like hers, my recent months have been low-key.  While job-hunting and tackling home DIY projects, I've been marinating in the world of anti-professional style.  Not that it's foreign territory to me.  As much as I hope Liz's dressing habits are contagious, I've not yet caught the professional attire bug.  But when I was busy with work and school, and supposed to "dress up," my version of "casual" was downright sloppy. Tanks and sweatshirts, and not cute ones.  My weekends and off-hours were like collapsing at the end of a very confusing, pseudo-professional sartorial sprint: I gave up.  The awkward effort of merging my rookie student style with an aspirationally adult style exhausted me.  Now, after time away, I've come to regard "dressing up" and "dressing down" as distinct yet equal counterparts.  Neither one is necessarily more "mature" than the other.  Rather than neglecting casual style entirely, or allowing professional style to absorb it, I'm trying to distribute my attention evenly between the extremes.  One result?  I hope I'm generating more creative, intentional-looking casual outfits.  Perhaps the above ensemble is evidence?  After all, it was a dreary "off" day, and I didn't wear a hoodie.  Or even my usual one-and-done jersey dress.  Hooray, progress!

Happy Friday! Oh, and Huzzah for October!

Prompts:

• How do you dress on rainy days?  Any go-to items or favorite combinations?
• How do you wear classic white button-down shirts?  Do they serve double-duty in your closet as they do in mine, acting both professionally and casually?  Or do you reserve them for one or the other style?
• Liz and Katie have both recently written about their professional versus casual dressing mindsets.  How do you describe your personal style on a scale from one extreme to the other?

Jeggings and Ageism

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore this cardigan with loafers I'm trying to love.
I could have worn these yellow wedges, instead of strappy gold heels, with this ensemble.

Composition:
slouchy grey cardi (Target)
black cami (Gap)
jeggings (Lauren Conrad for Kohl's)
yellow wedges (Nine West)

Usage:
One of the few things I've enjoyed about unemployment is the freedom it has given me to experiment with clothing.  Not currently bound by office dress codes, I'm able to invent my own sartorial standards.  I've toyed with lace and (faux!) fur and bright tights and prints.

But I might draw the line with jeggings.

Although I fashioned a pre-autumn outfit around my newly purchased leggings + jeans hybrids, I'm still skeptical of them.  What purpose do they serve distinct from leggings or skinny jeans, after all?  I plan to wear mine only with long tops, as I would leggings, and I find them convenient for tucking in boots, just like skinny jeans.  They might provide a measure of extra warmth in chillier weather, but, beyond that, what's the big deal?

To be fair, I'm enamored of the concept.  Leggings in a durable fabric?  Genius.  We won't have to wear tights under these babies, for sure.  And why should we sacrifice a laid-back jeans aesthetic because we desire a body-hugging profile?  Points for creativity.

Still, only months ago I poked fun at undergrads' propensity for jeggings.  These pants seem to be favorites of the 18-and-younger set.  Perhaps that's why, whenever I sport my own pair in public, I receive glances of camaraderie from girls half my age.  This is not good for someone like me who already bristles at the slightest implication of ageism.  I fear that sporting clothing that is inherently coded with (negative?) age-related associations only invites the sorts of perceptions I mean to deflect.  So am I too old for jeggings?  Or, would it be wise for me to refrain from wearing them given my sensitivity to age-related discrimination?

Last week, E. of Academichic asked a related question of skinny pants, the broader category under which jeggings fall.  Her post inquired into the professional connotations of such trousers, and I think that, for young females, the issues of career expertise that E. noted are inextricable from issues of age.  Being young and dressing fashion-consciously certainly opens one up to risk -- risk of being branded as inexperienced professionally.  So is it worth it?  Granted, we'd all like to wear whatever we wish and imagine ourselves demolishing monoliths of prejudice, but, when it comes to it, do we eliminate certain garments -- like jeggings, perhaps -- from our sartorial repertoires because of their negative age-related connotations?  Do we avoid clothing because it looks "too young" or "too old"?  Are there garments which, in your opinion, should be subject to such age-related restrictions?

For me, this discussion rings of a line from a Bing commercial: "Moms who wear jeans to match their teens' jeans." What's at stake with this critique?

Prompts:

• Do you avoid certain garments because of (negative) age-related connotations?  What are they, and what message do you think they convey?
• I'd also like to ask the inverse: do you choose to wear other garments because of their (positive) age-related connotations?  What are they, and what message do you think they convey?  For example, I've written about my appreciation of blazers.  Frankly, I think they make me look older.
• Why do or don't you make style choices according to age perceptions?
• Most specifically, are you wearing jeggings this season?  Why (and how) or why not?

Let's talk about lace, baby.

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
These nude suede heels are in my regular shoe rotation for both summer and fall.

Composition:
black oversized vest (Calvin Klein)
cream lace-like dress (Charlotte Russe, thrifted via Plato's Closet)
grey stone necklace (gifted)
nude suede heels (Seychelles)

Usage:
My second attempt at thrifting proved more successful than my last.  Your tips helped!  I didn't peek at price tags and paid more attention to fits.  Along the way, I scored this cream shift/babydoll dress hybrid.  I imagine it will work as well with nubby brown tights and knee-high boots as it does here with bare legs and peep-toe heels.  Transitional wear is the name of the game.

In honor of my latest find, I had prepared a spiel about all things lace.  Specifically, I had attempted to dissect my own attraction to it.  Forget Marie Claire's fall forecast or Venus Williams' daring French Open ensemble.  (Interesting social commentary embedded there, for sure.)  Why do I continue reaching for lace-graced apparel?  Why did I select a lace bridal gown for my own nuptial and outfit my girlfriends in lace-y cocktail frocks?  (That's a story for another time, friends.  For now, let's say I'm anticipating some negative karma in my next run as a bridesmaid.)  Why do I fall for lace -- or lace-like, in the case of the above thrifted dress -- detailing every time?

In writing the post, it occurred to me that many of you might find lace repelling for the exact reasons I find it appealing.  This polarization interests me, too.  Lace signifies "bridal" for some, "boudoir" for others; "vintage chic" on one hand, "pass-the-mothballs antiquated" on the other.  So what does lace connote to you?

Prompts:

•  Mind if I put the brakes on my original lace-related post to collect some data?  Please answer my poll question on the right sidebar!  I'd also like to hear your reason for answering the way you did, so comment away, too! 
• (Side note: I realize that in the far left photo of the above triptych I look a bit, erm, boudoir.  Or a bit "Hey-I-might-be-wearing-only-a-trenchcoat-to-a-large-sporting-event!"  But I figure, it is football season, so in honor of collegiate streakers everywhere, I'm going with it.)
• (I really have no choice.  My outtakes?  They're worse.)

I came, I saw, I at least tried!

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
These wedges are some of my wardrobe workhorses!
I found this cameo ring while visiting Savannah, Georgia.

Composition:
mustard babydoll dress (Dear Creatures via Plato's Closet, thrifted for $12)
teal tights (Target)
wedge sandals (RJ Girl via Piperlime)

Usage:
Lately I've tried to become a thrifting girl.  Partly I'm inspired by vintage-hunting enthusiasts, and partly I'm trying to shop without going broke.  Remember this job interview?  You guys helped me assess my outfit after the fact, and, thankfully, the ensemble didn't make the horrible impression I expected.  I got the job (Woohoo!).  I didn't accept it (Womp, womp).  The position came with a one-way commute of an hour and 15 minutes, the same commute I had made for the past two years.  I was tired of driving daily, and I was hopeful to find work closer to home.  So I took a risk and turned down the offer.  Two months of hand-wringing later, I'm still jobless, which means my bank account is nearly bone dry.

This period of tighter financial belting seems ideal for reacquainting myself with thrifting.  I use "reacquaint" loosely, because I've never actually been a serious thrifter.  My past experience involves college and Friday afternoon Salvation Army trips, if that explains anything.  I own several 80s-style taffeta prom dresses as proof of those excursions, but no other gems.  Assuming that my personal ethics have evolved since then, I now brave the world of secondhand shopping with a fresh - that is, more appreciative - perspective.

I remember that thrifting is unpredictable.  In the past it has sent me down several shopping rabbit trails (hence my small 80s-style prom dress collection).  So, for my first foray in eons, I set a goal.  Inspired by Caitlin's yellow houndstooth jacket, Tania's canary-hued accessories, Clare's matchstick pants, and E.'s ode to goldenrod, I determine that I need more mustard in my life.  I set out, focused on yellow.

Which is why I barely tried on this dress after stumbling upon it in a local Plato's Closet!  I didn't even remove my tank top, I just threw on the dress over my head!  Presto!  Declared it a perfect fit!  Purchased!  No refunds!  Done!

I mean, does a more autumnal shade of yellow exist?  Of course I would buy it.

Giddy over my perceived success, I toted the dress home and proceeded to launder and steam-iron it. Not until then did I realize the armpits are snug, and the brown cording hits me above the bust line, and the hem is a wee too short for public.

So what do I do now?  Is the frock salvageable?  And how can I avoid this type of thrifting mishap in the future?

(Happy Friday to all, by the by!  Thanks for rallying around Katie yesterday.  The details are hers to share, of course, but the three of us feel fortunate to have such supportive blogfriends.  Your heartfelt comments mean so much.)
 
Prompts:

• Any ideas for salvaging this dress?  
• What are your fitting rules for thrifted garments?  Is "too big" more workable than "too small"?
• Caitlin recommends spending no more than $25 for a thrifted or vintage piece.  Do you abide by similar pricing standards?  (Speaking of Caitlin, I'll be over at her blog, Frosting and Bows, later this weekend to share about this same shopping mishap.  Do stop by!)
• What are your favorite secondhand pieces?
• Any other shopping advice for me?  I need it!

The Boots are Back in Town

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore these boots with a wrap dress and with a strapless top.
I sported these linen shorts during dinner with Katie and Liz.
I donned this chambray top with a skirt in need of alterations.
I paired this braided belt with a neon shirtdress.

Composition:
chambray peasant top (H&M)
heart charm necklace (F21)
linen shorts (Lulu's)
braided belt (Lulu's)
boots (Steve Madden via Marshalls)

Usage:
Is it boot season yet?  Reader Michelle wants to know!  Last Wednesday, during Wardrobe Workhorse Week, she wrote:

"One of my own workhorse preferences is currently singing its autumn siren call: boots! I know WWW is happening while SSG headquarters continues to endure the mid-Atlantic heat, but what take do you lovely ladies have on what might just be my fall favorite?"

We're with you, Michelle!  Despite the lingering summer heat, Katie, Liz, and I are anxious for the reintroduction of boots.  Like you, we consider boots some of our favorite wardrobe reliables, even if they are technically out of season.  Liz values her grey, slouchy numbers for their comfort and style.  Katie's looking forward to reviving these fabulous knee-highs, which she snagged on deep discount at the end of last fall.  And I'm itching to restore these cowboy kickers to my regular shoe rotation.

That's why I paired them with linen shorts for an outing at a local farmers market.  The weather was just breezy enough to merit the boots over these woven sandals, so I took advantage of it.  For an outdoor afternoon, the outfit seemed like the ideal transition between seasons: the long sleeves and the boots welcome autumn, while the shorts and the washed-out hues hang onto summer.

It appears a few notable dressers have the same idea.  Brooklyn Decker, for instance, wore a similar ensemble while strolling Manhattan streets, pairing worn-in waders with jean shorts for a bohemian vibe.  Katy of Kansas Couture recently sported boots with gauzy dresses here and here, too.  Since others are pairing leather leg-huggers with traditional summer-wear, it seems we're not alone in our bootsache.  (Lame? Maybe? "Bootsache"?)

Personally, I think boots are workhorses precisely because they can bridge dramatic changes in temperature.  Worn thoughtfully - and perhaps a tad ironically - they function as valuable cross-season footwear.  I've worn them with tank tops in August when my pedicures have suffered and, in the same month, when I've wanted to rough up my warm-weather frocks.  I've also worn them in the thick of fall with corduroys and sweaters.  So, in many ways, boots act like blazers in my closet: they make seasonal transitions smooth and stylish.

What's your take on boots? Is it time to break 'em out?

Prompts:

• When do you reinstate boots to your closet?  On a specific calendar date?  According to certain temperatures?  Or do you wear them year-round?
• Do you think boots are cross-season workhorses, or do you think they belong only in cooler weather?
• Does a boot's height matter to you when deciding whether or not to wear it cross-season?  For example, would you say 'yes' to an ankle boot in the summer but 'no' to a knee-high version?  What other factors make a difference?

Wardrobe Workhorse Week Wrap-Up

We had such a great time with Wardrobe Workhorse Week!  Thanks to all of you for reading along and commenting, and thanks especially to Sara of Orchids in Buttonholes, Iris of 260 Days, No Repeats, E-Jo of In Professorial Fashion, Miss Studious of O Miss Studious, Plummy of Plummy: Developing Style, Katie of Interrobangs Anonymous, Anna of The Belle and the Bear, Rad of The Cohabitating Closet, Ana of Toil and Trouble, E., A., and L. of Academichic, and Caitlin of Frosting and Bows for contributing their own wardrobe workhorse posts!

We started the week with one main question in mind: What items of apparel and accessories do people who are concerned with style most frequently wear?  The answers were so fantastic that we wanted to consolidate some of them for you in one place.  We certainly haven't covered all the posts, though, so please visit these great blogs to see what else these women can't live without!

Composition: Jeans

Drafts:

Usage: 
Not surprisingly, quite a few bloggers shared Liz's love for jeans! Sara sings their praises even though she doesn't often wear pants, Miss Studious shows us that hers are, indeed, perfect, Iris demonstrates the benefits of trouser jeans, and Anna proves "mom" jeans can be super chic!

Composition: Classic Dresses
Drafts:

Usage:
Sara wrote a great post in defense of the dress as "comfortable," and several other bloggers proved that a staple black dress doesn't have to be boring.  Anna's looks classic and comfortable, Katie spices hers up with a trademark scarf, L. adds dramatic flair with a wide belt and a flower pin, and Miss Studious wears one with great details that make it stand out.

Composition: Versatile Footwear
Drafts:

Usage: 
Though most of us could never own too many shoes, WWW showed that if you love a single pair enough, you can wear them with anything.  Anne-Marie makes a case for the versatility of nude shoes, Plummy demonstrates a range of styles with her black boots, and (from her enviable shoe collection) Sara identifies her black flats as a workhorse.  Our Katie maintains her affinity for colored shoes, IA Katie shows she's on the same wavelength with her red flats, and E-Jo chooses style and comfort with colored flats, too.

Composition: Statement Neckwear
Drafts:

Usage:

These entries show how big of an impact one piece can make, especially when it's near your face. Anne-Marie relies on this bib necklace to transform her summer wardrobe, Miss Studious plans her entire outfit around her statement necklace, Caitlin lists hers as key pieces for fall, and Iris wears hers while celebrating her great accessories.  Plummy favors scarves them for their warmth, and Katie also celebrates scarves for their fashion and their function.

Composition: Un-Boring Basics
Drafts:

These items frequently show up on "wardrobe basics" lists, but with good reason! Katie's pencil skirt gets major mileage, and A. loves hers so much she has it in three colors!  Sara offers her own definition of a wardrobe workhorse, citing this white skirt, and this neutral skirt has been very good to Anna.

Drafts:

Usage:
Liz loves her cardigans, Rad demonstrates how stylish a chambray button-down can be, E-Jo shows that great neutral skirt can come in a shade of green, and Miss Studious looks effortlessly chic in her white button-down.

Composition: Unexpected Workhorses

Drafts:

Usage: 
WWW also showed that plenty of items that do not make their way onto wardrobe basics lists can work hard in your wardrobe.  Anne-Marie makes the case for going bold on the bottom, E. recommends replacing that LBD with an LND (little navy dress) and she also wears this mustard blouson top every which way, Miss Studious's geometric print is anything but basic, Ana loves this polka dot top so much that she bought a back-up, and Caitlin turns her unique thrift store find into a signature item.

Thanks again, ladies!  We're thrilled to know you, even if it's just online!

Prompts:

• We're planning to share our individual thoughts on WWW in upcoming posts, but we're curious-- what is your "take-away" from this theme week?
• Were you surprised by any of the trends that emerged in our various workhorse posts?  Did you notice any commonalities that we didn't document here?
• If you decide post more of your own wardrobe workhorse looks, please feel free to paste your links in the comments so we can pay you a visit!

WWW: Wedges, Necklaces, and Belts

Thanks for joining us for Wardrobe Workhorse Week!  In my previous WWW post, I featured genres of items, but today, for our final write-up of the series, I'm celebrating three (okay, four) specific pieces that make my wardrobe work.

Composition: Chunky Wedges
brown leather wedge sandals (RJ Girl)

Drafts:

Usage:
A teacher once cautioned me against overusing the word "love," but I can't resist: I love these wedges, I love these wedges, I love these wedges.  The buckles on these clunkers add just enough edge to the prettiest outfit, and they create interest in everyday ensembles.  They're also surprisingly comfortable.  Believe it.  Although not as "classy" as Liz's black wedges, and therefore likely not classroom appropriate, these neutrals are my go-to kickers for after-school and weekend outings.

Composition: Statement Necklace
turquoise bib necklace (via ShopMamie)

Drafts:

Usage:
Many of my outfits are deficient in the jewelry department, and that's because I'm awkward with accessories.  I haven't (yet!) mastered the adornment game.  Fortunately, my childhood friend Caitlin of Frosting and Bows is adept at creating and composing such trimmings, and she's preparing a Scholar Style Guide guest post for this Sunday!  Stay tuned!  In the meantime, I rely on this turquoise bib necklace to embellish my summer clothes.  Its color, length, and shape make it virtually fool-proof -- perfect for an accessorizing newbie like me!

Composition: Go-With-Everything Belts
black belt (via ShopMamie), brown belt (Anthropologie)

Drafts:

Usage:
Speaking of accessorizing, I only began belting my clothes after stumbling upon these pair-with-anything items of waist-wear.  At the time I wasn't intentionally shopping for belts, but there they were: on sale, calling out to me.  I decided to give 'em a shot.  Since purchasing these black and brown numbers, a world of dressing possibilities has opened up.  And like Liz, who has long advocated belting, I often feel sartorially "finished" with a cinched waist.  (Perhaps, as Katie's post on "ladylikeness" suggests, I feel more feminine with accented curves?)  Recently, I've experimented with narrower, braided belts, but these two remain my favorites.

Prompts:

• To you accessorizing pros out there: what are your secrets?  I need tips!
• Are there any clothing combos you wish I would try?
• Wardrobe Workhorse Week has reminded me of the many versatile items in my closet and convinced me that I don't need to shop as much as I think (or want!).  What have you learned about your closet during WWW?

WWW: Nude Shoes, Bold Skirts, and Neutral Blazers

Thanks for stopping by for Wardrobe Workhorse Week!  We're celebrating our favorite and most dependable clothing items, the garments and accessories without which we'd consider our closets incomplete.  Today I'm showcasing my personal wardrobe heroes: nude shoes, skirts with personality, and neutral blazers.

Composition: Nude Shoes
suede peep-toe heels (Seychelles), round-toe wedges (Nine West), patent peep-toe heels (Guess)

Drafts:

Usage:

Months ago I touted these suede peep-toe heels as one of my favorite spring purchases, and I followed up with a post about the nude fashion trend.  Since then, I've amassed a collection of flesh-toned shoes, from simple flats to dressy heels.  In fact, most of the shoes I now own are nude hues.  They elongate my legs, they pair easily with any outfit, and they seem to create more of a "look" than the brown leather or black patent "neutrals" to which I previously gravitated.  Of course, depending on one's skin tone, "nude" can mean anything from buttery yellow to rosy pink to rich mocha.  Pale versions complement my peachy complexion best, so I was pleased to score these light patent peep-toe heels on eBay last month.  After they sustained me through a night of dancing at a friend's wedding, I high-fived myself for a smart $17.50 purchase.  Versatility and durability?  A perfect combo.

Composition: Skirts with Personality

pink tiered skirt (Target), multi-colored patterned skirt (Lulu's)

Drafts:

Usage:

Since I generally keep my shoes toned-down, I like to beef up my outfits with skirts of interesting textures and colors.  This is surely a fashion violation, since maximizing the prints and colors around my hips in effect maximizes the look of my hips themselves.  I'm okay with this because a) I appreciate hips and the women who show them off, and b) I don't exactly have a curvy figure.  Patterns and textures help me create the illusion of width.  So bring it on, Stacy and Clinton.  This is one rule I'm content to break.  Above I've featured two all-star summer skirts.  I'm struggling to select merely one, so they'll share the "workhorse" title.

Composition: Neutral Jackets

linen blazer (Gap), grey wool-blend blazer (Gap)

Drafts:

Usage:

Blazers are wardrobe essentials for many women, and I understand why.  In my own closet they're incredibly versatile; they add an extra something to so-so ensembles, enable creative layering, and help me transition between seasons.  What's more, in professional environments they elevate my look to one of authority instantly.  I wore the above grey blazer during my master's defense in May, and it gave me the confidence boost I needed.  It also summoned a bona fide degree out of the experience, so job well done, wool-blend wonder!  My brother has likely forgotten that I wore the same blazer to his college commencement, but if he remembered, I'm sure he would credit it with his successful graduation as well.

Prompts:

• Are you a fan of any of these wardrobe workhorses?  How do you style them?  Why do they work for you?
• Could you offer me any suggestions for styling these workhorses in the future? 
• If you own similar items, where did you buy them?  And where do you normally shop for them?
• How often do you wear your wardrobe workhorses each week?  Each month?  Here's my estimation breakdown for the items I've featured today:  Nude Shoes: 4 days per week / Bold Skirts: 2 days per week / Neutral Blazers: 1-3 days per week, depending on work schedule.

Too Many Clothes?

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
One day this sheer, short-sleeved number screamed, "Wear me with olive green cargo pants!"  So I did.
I wore this multi-chain necklace with a fedora.  And also with clothes.

Composition:
white button-down with sleeves (Gap)
sheer button-down with ruffles (thrifted)
multi-chain necklace (Talbots)
pink pearl ring (gifted)
mother of pearl bracelet (gifted)
grey pencil skirt (Talbots, gifted)
nude heels (Guess, a recent eBay score)

Usage:
Last month my mom gave me this fabulously-fitting grey pencil skirt, and I immediately began scheming up outfits for it.  Thing is, I sort of forgot about it after that.  It's been hanging among the other skirts in my closet, sandwiched between I-wore-this-once-four-years-ago and This-threadbare-thing-has-a-memory-attached.  It got lost among never-wears, I guess.

A shame, right?  Because this stretch-cotton number is a great length, and it fits me well, and it sits at an ideal spot on my hips, and it has a sheen that allows me to dress it up, but it can also be dressed down.  Also, it's basically my favorite color in the world, can you tell?  I'm almost camouflaged against the paint shade on my wall.  (Whaddiyaknow, the walls in my living room are one hue darker.  Practically color-matched to this skirt at Home Depot's Paint Center, I'd say.)  So, yes, it's a crying shame this winner of a garment has been, until yesterday, forgotten among clothing toward which I feel half-heartedly.

Which is why I started thinking, Maybe I own too many clothes.  Actually, this thought did not occur to me independently.  Reader/friend Mackenzie - you might remember her insight from this post - steered my thoughts in this direction when she sent me an email that went like so:

I'm finding such an interesting energy between your blog and some of the more DIY or eco-consciousness-focused clothing blogs I follow. ... One thing I'm always struggling with, and which seems to be in the background of the Scholar Style Guide discussion lately, is -- how many clothes are too many clothes?

Great question!  It's one Liz, Katie, and I ask ourselves regularly, especially because we have limited funding and tight closet spaces.  Before now, we've responded to this issue indirectly.  We feel strongly that the "Earlier Drafts" feature in our posts upholds principles of thrift and creativity by allowing readers to track the ways we recycle our already-have garments.  And recent posts, like Liz's report on her shopping hiatus and Katie's analysis of pieces she already owns, also demonstrate our work-with-what-we've-got mentality.

But we don't want to stop there.  No, we're inspired by posts like this one from Young House Love that take closet editing seriously.  Like Sherry at YHL, we believe it's possible and worthwhile to pare down one's wardrobe to a few well-loved essentials.  That's why we've declared next week Wardrobe Workhorse Week!  We're devoting five days to items without which we'd consider our closets incomplete, and we're hoping to answer Mackenzie's question along the way.  The idea is to trim our sartorial fat: celebrate the items we love and donate/consign/discard the items we don't.

Join us, won't you?  We'd love to hear about the clothes you can't live without.  If you'd like to hop aboard the WWW train, comment on this post by September 5.  See you next week!

Prompts:

• What do you think: how many clothes are too many?  How do you know you've reached the limit?
• How do you decide which items to keep and which ones to lose?  Tell us about your methods!  Better yet, join us for WWW!  During September 6-10 (next week!) we're inviting you to celebrate your all-time favorite wardrobe reliables with us.  RSVP here!