Wearing Without Wearing Out

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
This wardrobe workhorse tank was my favorite item of the summer and these skinnies have become a wardrobe workhorse, too.

Composition:
navy and white striped tank (Gap)
dark teal cardigan (H&M)
brown leather belt (Fossil)
distressed skinnies (A&E)
cream patent leather flats (Sam Edelman via Zappos)

Usage:
When I wore this tank and sweater together again to a baby shower this weekend, I realized that I'd been planning a post about this outfit for a while but kept forgetting to attend to it.  This weekend, I wore it with my teal Mary Janes, and it turns out that they're a hit with all generations!

The shoe swap speaks to why I wanted to write about this outfit, though.  The patent leather flats I'm wearing above are one of my favorite pairs because they're my wedding shoes!  Putting them on is one way for me to feel like that perfect day lives on.  This is their first appearance on the blog, though, because I'm trying not to wear them out.  While all three of us here at SSG like to wear our favorite items frequently, I hate when this frequent wearing leads to wearing out.  Patent leather, in particular, presents a problem for me because I don't know how to take care of it properly.  Fellow commuters, do you also notice that the heel of your right shoe gets rubbed down from driving?  Almost all of my shoes reveal the marks of my 40-60 minute drive to campus.  With regular leather it's no problem because I can polish the mark away, but when patent leather starts to rub away, it's the end of the road for the shoes.  Unless I'm missing something.

Readers with freakishly good recall might also remember that I wrote earlier about ruining this tank while wearing it, too.  Luckily for me, my mother in law read that post and bought me not one but two! replacements.  So now this tank can live on in my wardrobe for years to come, which is fortunate because I'd washed the original so many times that it was starting to fade.

Prompts:

• Do you have any items that you love enough to be careful about how often you wear them in order to avoid wearing them out?  What are they?
• Seriously-- do other commuters do this to their shoes?  Or am I just driving wrong?
• Any patent leather care tips you can give me?

Katie No-Feet

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore this dress for my MA defense last spring.

Composition:
pink dress (H&M)
white, pink, and orange animal print belt (Cache)
black opaque tights (Target)
black flat/wedges (Payless)

Usage:
As readers of this blog know, I love unabashedly feminine outfits (and thank you to Sal over at Already Pretty for a great post on the subject last week).  I love florals.  I love heels.  And I love pink.  I wore this raspberry dress to my MA defense because it was perfunctorily professional but it was also in-your-face pink.  In other words, it captured my sense of self, making me feel comfortable and confident.  Also, the three people at my defense - my advisor, my reader, and our program's director - knew enough about me and my style that I knew they wouldn't think twice about my sartorial decision.

Now that the temperatures are dropping and the leaves are changing, wardrobes tend toward darker colors to match nature's ensemble.  Pinks and pastels are taboo, packed away until spring.  However, I really wanted to make this dress fall-appropriate.  My inspiration for this project was Halloween, probably my favorite part of fall. 

Taking away the matching belt that came with the dress, I added a belt that comes with another dress.  It's a white based dress with a bright pink and orange animal print.  The pink ties it to the dress, but the orange adds an interesting fall-y color contrast, while the print breaks up the pink color block.

To complete the outfit, I needed something darker on the bottom, not to mention something that would keep me warm.  The opaque tights add an appropriately dark element to the dress, really solidifying the fall/Halloween look.  However, they also blend in with the shoes that I wore, black flats that have an ever-so-slight wedge.  The combination makes me look like I do not have feet.  At first, I thought I should change shoes, but I found that I actually liked the effect.  It adds an uncanniness to the outfit that both fits with the Halloween theme and interestingly draws attention away from and even diminishes the very feminine look of the dress.  Though that wasn't my intent, I like the way that the accessories change this dress from a girly-girl staple to a still feminine but oddly spooky ensemble.

Prompts:

• Have you ever added an element to your outfit that makes it look uncanny?
• How do you adapt different seasonal looks for fall?
• In the second picture, I tried to do the melancholic-look-away-from-the-camera pose that lots of bloggers do which looks so great on their blogs but makes me look sleepy (a generous adjective to describe my face in that pic).  Any tips for blog picture poses?

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?

Dressed Up Comfort

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I sported this cardigan with my black shift.
I channeled Emma from Glee in this skirt.  (New season starts tomorrow!)
This necklace was one of my few purchases this summer. (Regarding that post: I did try to revisit Camera Lucida, but someone either lost our library's copy or refuses to relinquish it, and ILL is too much of a pain.)

Composition:
hoop and bead earrings (gifted: thanks D!)
clear acrylic beaded necklace (Kohl's)
black tank (Target)
purple cardigan (NY&Co)
black and white print pencil skirt (NY&Co)
black leather flats (Nine West)

Usage:
Can you tell I took these photos in the evening?  What gave it away?  The bad lighting?  My moderately disheveled appearance?  The bad photo quality in which my head appears blurred, but which nicely approximates my fuzzy headspace after a long day of teaching and taking classes?  Suffice it to say, it was one of those days where I was patting myself on the back for having chosen flats.

When I posted my first day of school look, Brooke commented: "I'm always so envious to read that you feel 'comfortable' in those types of clothes. I'd very much prefer to stand up and teach in gym clothes or jeans and a tee shirt. I always can't wait to get home and hop into my leggings and tees. Have you always felt comfortable dressed up, or did you adapt to it? I'm hoping I'll adapt soon!"  I've got a lot to say in response to this great question, so here goes.

As I touched upon briefly in the comments to this post, I think there are two components to the "comfort" I associate with an outfit, those being a) a type of psychological comfort, and b) a type of physical/bodily comfort.  Most times, I think there's a large overlap between the two, because I tend to feel physically comfortable in things that make me feel psychologically comfortable and vice versa.  Sometimes that's not the case, and for me, psychological comfort always trumps physical comfort.  I find yoga pants to be very comfortably physically, but I rarely wear them outside the house because I regard them as pajamas, and I'm not psychologically comfortable wearing my pajamas in public.

So now that I've tried to clarify what I mean by "comfortable," I think I can address Brooke's question more directly.  I did not always feel physically comfortable in professional attire.  And, I think, I had to learn to take myself seriously as a professional before I felt psychologically comfortable in these clothes, as well.  But life taught me to feel comfortable in these clothes, in both senses of the word.  I started teaching high school at 22, and I was frequently mistaken for a student.  I think this happened because I was fresh faced and because people think of my build as small.  Being told I looked like a high schooler was maddening, and though some people suggested to me that I should "take it as a compliment," nobody ever said it in a complimentary tone.  They said it in a tone of surprise and/or condescension.  So I took offense.

I always wore what I felt were "grown up clothes" to teach.  Unlike other teachers (young and old), I didn't wear jeans, t-shirts, or hooded sweatshirts with the school's logo on them.  However, that didn't seem to differentiate me adequately, so I made the conscious decision to dress more "business" than "business casual" while still retaining my own personal style.  I rarely wore heels, because I stood in front of my students all day, but I invested in trousers to replace my khakis, cardigans to replace my cable knit sweaters, blouses to replace my polo shirts, pencil skirts, and wrap dresses.    It didn't make a huge difference with my students; I think that because they spent so much time with me, they learned to respect my authority fairly quickly.  However, it made an absolutely noticeable difference with my fellow teachers, the administrators, and especially the parents.  The rude and inappropriate comments stopped almost entirely.  The parents were more willing to listen to what I had to say.  (They used to ask me how old I was so frequently that I finally resorted to this response every time: "Old enough to have completed the degree which qualifies me to teach your child.")  My principal actually told me, "I used to think you didn't write referrals because you were a pushover, but I've realized that you don't write them because you address behavior problems adequately in your classroom."  I think all of these changes were directly related to dress.  These clothes say: I mean business.  I know what I'm doing.  I have my s*** together.  I take my work seriously.  I am a disciplined person and I expect others to demonstrate self discipline, too.  All of those things were true before, but my business casual clothes did a less effective job of communicating them.

As a result of this change, I began to feel more psychologically comfortable in these clothes.  Nothing angers me more than being underestimated, so when I realized that I could take concrete actions to disallow that kind of underestimation, it was like I had found the golden ticket.  I've always been aesthetically attracted to clean lines, tailored silhouettes, crisp collars, pressed fabrics, and the like, so while the clothes didn't initially strike me as physically comfortable, the transition was a fairly seamless one.  Now, these clothes feel more me to me than more casual ones.  I learned how to shop for clothes that fit these categories and were physically comfortable, too.  This involved embracing stretch materials, trying on a thousand pairs of trousers until I found the perfect pair, and learning to buy the item that fit best instead of the one that said it should be my size.  At this point, I actually don't understand why anyone thinks jeans are more comfortable than a perfectly fitting pair of trousers.  (Pencil skirts, I'll admit are not ideal, but only because they tend to ride up when you're sitting down for an extended period of time, which I never do when I'm teaching.)

And this is making a long post even longer, but I've been giving a lot of thought to my MA defense episode since writing this previous post about it.  I can't help but wonder if, on some subconscious level, I dressed less professionally for that event because I didn't feel like I had earned it yet, so performing professionalism didn't feel quite right.   This is stupid, because I certainly had earned it, but it's also kind of predictable, because I've encountered much more self-doubt as a graduate student than I ever did as a high school classroom teacher.

In other words: I feel psychologically comfortable in these clothes because they make me feel like other people take me more seriously.  Because I am invested in wearing clothes that facilitate that reaction, I'm committed to finding clothes which do so and are physically comfortable.  However, I don't think I could have worn them with any real confidence until I felt legitimately ready to take on the type of respect I would be afforded when dressed in them.  And if you're still with me on this one, thanks for following along.  One of the things I love most about this blog is that it gives me a space to think through these things in more depth.  Thanks so much for the question, Brooke!

Related Posts:
Recently, A-Dubs shared her own frustration about being underestimated, in her case because of gendered and disciplinary assumptions, and she also responded by resolving to "up the profesh-factor."
Sara wrote an excellent post in which she interrogated the widespread assumption that dresses are necessarily "dressy" or atypical as daily wear.
(don't we have brilliant blogfriends?!)

Prompts:

• Do you also see "comfort" in dress as a combination of psychological and physical comfort?  Does one trump the other for you, or are they equally important?
• Do you think I've pidgeon-holed myself too much by relying on "professional" clothes for psychological comfort?  I'm starting to think I have, so I'm committed to learning to take myself seriously in more casual clothes, both IRL and here on the blog.
• Have you found that your style of dress has made a significant difference in the way people respond to you?
• Does it sound like I'm on a power trip?  In the interest of full disclosure, I kind of am.  As a young female, I find again and again that no one is going to take me seriously unless I demand it.  Thoughts on this issue?

WWW: Colorful Shoes

I'm thrilled to contribute my first entry for Wardrobe Workhorse Week, a week that we here at SSG (and other blogs!) are dedicating to those items in our regular rotations.

Composition:
green ruffled t-strap wedges (Steve Madden)
"ruby slippers" (DSW)

Drafts:

Usage:

When pulling together ideas for these posts, I thought about traditional lists of "must-have" items, which tend to focus on basics to build outfits upon.  And it is true that I am big on the basics.  In my bio on this blog, I describe my style as centered on fashion fundamentals: "I generally like simple pieces" ... and I'm very into  "focusing on the basics."  However, part of this philosophy is that I can easily dress these items up and style them in different ways.  One of my favorite ways to easily spice up and outfit is through a colorful pair of shoes.  Even jeans that a t-shirt can instantly get a kick (ha!) from your kicks.  So I picked my favorite spring/summer pair and my favorite fall/winter pair.  This summer, I bought these green ruffled t-straps at a deep discount.  I wear them with everything.  They're super comfortable, and they always add a bit of feminine charm (hello ruffles) to a look.

Ditto the red flats.  They're my go-to shoe with a long-sleeved t-shirt (tune in tomorrow for my WWW post on that!) and jeans, and I like to throw them on with skirts or dresses too.  Like the wedges, they're very comfortable, perfect for long days on campus and/or running errands. 

Prompts:

• I'm sure I've used this prompt before, but it's a good one and relevent: do you go for neutral shoes or more colorful ones?
• What's your favorite way to pump up a simple outfit?

Home Away from (Academia) (Home)

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I found this charming, oversized blazer on sale in charm central, Savannah, Ga.
A turquoise necklace in the bib style?  Count me in.
I've worn these sweet yellow flats with a spectrum of hues.

Composition:
strapless floral dress (ShopMamie)
linen blazer (Gap)
turquoise necklace (ShopMamie)
yellow flats (Target)

Usage:
Liz coaxed me out of hiding yesterday for a dinner and shopping date.  Given that I have spent the past week hibernating in T-shirts and devouring stacks of chick-lit novels, I was grateful for the outing.  I washed my hair and wore real clothing*.  It was awesome.

Equally awesome?  My hiatus from the computer has helped me feel at home with myself, stylistically and otherwise.  When I last posted, I was preparing to paint the very last room in the townhouse my husband and I had purchased in October and delayed updating 'til May.  Since that post, we've committed ourselves full-force to final renovations.  Now we're feeling at home in our first place, among our own furniture, with our own art hanging on the walls.  We sleep better at night, we host friends more often, and we devote dinners to real conversation, not to rattling off To-Do lists.  Nevermind that our second bathroom is still tiled floor-to-ceiling with dragonfly-inspired ceramic work.  It's fulfilling to feel ownership of something, flaws and all, I'm remembering.

Since reading - and relating to - Katie's candid post about body insecurities, I've become convinced that transferring my home ownership lessons to my clothing choices would revolutionize my self-perception.  Katie mentioned that wearing identical bridesmaid dresses invites body comparison; likewise, I've noticed that living in a neighborhood of nearly-identical brick townhouses invites neighborly property evaluation.  That's to be expected.  But the similarities between my street-mate's house and mine inspire me to make my space unique.  Even though I appreciate the hostas in her front yard, say, I enjoy my unruly azaleas because, well, they're mine.  They represent several Saturday mornings of my own sweaty, T-shirt-tanning diligence.  (I feel like there's a Robert Frost poem about this.  The property-owning and hedge-trimming, not the farmer's-tanning, I mean.)  What if I dressed my body out of a similar spirit of appreciation and pride of ownership?

For me, Krista's guest-post about maternity wear sealed the deal on this sartorial lesson.  I love that she dresses to celebrate her baby bump, reveling in her stage of life and appreciating her body's capabilities.  Even though I'm not in a baby-making headspace these days, her wardrobe advice for expecting moms makes me feel confident about dressing for my circumstances.  Admittedly, I've been stressing over composing professional outfits while I'm away from academia.  Right now I can't make the pseudo-professorial clothes work, not only because I'm no longer in the environment, but also because my heart's not in it.  I'm in a different place now, and Krista's post reminded me that it's okay.  I'm beginning to appreciate my body for its replace-my-reading-plan-with-DIY-projects accomplishments, and I'm starting to dress like this post-grad school phase of life is home.  For now, at least.  It feels pretty good.

*This dress might function best as a beach cover-up.  I'm still deciding.  For now, as long as the temperatures remain scorchingly high, I feel bold enough to go city-street public with it.

Prompts:

• How do you best represent yourself during life transitions?  Do you find that your wardrobe choices change dramatically, or do you take comfort in keeping your wardrobe choices consistent?
• What's your take on the body = house analogy?  Veteran homeowners, do you find that owning a house makes you appreciate it in different ways?  Have your property-owning responsibilities affected the way you dress?
• From reading your blogs - it's great to catch up on your lives after being away! - it seems like many of you are also rethinking self-perception through clothing choices.  Please share the sartorial/life lessons you've learned this season!

Heat Wave!

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
This dress is one of my summer staples
These cheap but cute flats are one of my favorite pairs
I just debuted this necklace

Composition:
blue dress (Target)
blue faux-jeweled flats (Payless)
striped cardigan (Marshall's)
octopus necklace (ModCloth - gift from boyfriend)
water bottle (SIGG)

Usage:
It is HOT outside.  Dear readers, I hope you're not currently enveloped in the massive heat and humidity that surrounds SSG Headquarters right now.  If you are, I feel for you.  Trying to stay stylish and keep cool can be an issue - it's hard to look and feel your best in an oven-like environment.  Here's my attempt to do just that.

I started with my summer staple blue dress, my go-to for warm weather.  It's perfect for lounging around my no-central-air house or for casual date night with the boyfriend.  I used the octopus necklace I wore in my last post to add a personal touch to this simple dress.  I also had to work on this particular day, so I replaced flip flops with these studded flats.  Though Liz and I's work dress code is relative lax and casual, I felt that the dress needed something over it to be work suitable.  I've worn bare arms and bare legs to work before, but only with longer skirts.  I recently bought this striped short-sleeved cardigan for just these occasions, and I used it to complete my look.

I'm normally really hesitant about horizontal stripes, but after seeing Liz and Anne-Marie embrace them, I figured I'd give them a chance.  This top is the perfect way to experiment without diving headfirst into horizontal stripe territory since it isn't really a primary, necessary component to the outfit.  I especially love the detailing in the back.

I don't know if you can tell from the pictures, but considering the heat and especially the humidity, I've forgone blow drying my hair in the morning, preferring to let it wave out or just pulling it back.  My hair has a naturally wavy texture, so sometimes I'll let it go with just a few scrunches and occasionally some curl-enhancing product.  It curls out then fades as the day goes on - these pictures were taken at the end of the day - leaving a purposefully messy, tousled look.  I usually prefer my hair to have a more polished, straightened look (I didn't start letting it wave until the end of college), but my natural hair has been growing on me.

As I think about my styling for the day, one thing in particular comes to mind: is this look too matchy-matchy?  With the blue dress and the blue shoes and my beloved SIGG water bottle that I tote nearly everywhere in the summer and a hint of blue eyeliner, am I too color coordinated?  I've never really had a problem with dressing monochromatically, nor have I had a problem mixing and matching different colors.  I think it just depends on the mood I'm in on a particular day, though I know some people are very against being overly matchy in their clothing and accessory choices.

Prompts:

• How do you dress for excessive heat and/or humidity?
• How do you feel about dressing monochromatically or meticulously matching?

Lady in Red Has a Story to Tell

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore this scarf as a neckerchief with Breton stripes for Dress Your Best Week.
I paired this bangle bracelet with blue and orange for my brother's graduation.

Composition:
red patterned scarf (a giveaway from La Merce in Barcelona, Spain)
silver necklace with dove charm (Ornamental Things in Austin, Texas)
red dress (Ya via Party Dress in Fells Point, Baltimore)
bracelet (thrifted)
yellow flats (Target)

Usage:
This weekend I learned something about myself:  whenever I travel, I dress in trinkets from past journeys.  For me it's instinctual.  Perhaps that's why I haven't noticed until now.  Apparently I like story pieces, garments or accessories or shoes that remind me of where I've been.  My sister recently recalled our all-time favorite set of Story Shoes: a banged-up pair of suede cowboy boots, now too ragged for use.  She wore them for a year in high school during her grand Tour de Colleges.  Then she flew to Barcelona to visit me, at which time she graciously entrusted the boots to my care.  Those trusty, well-worn, high-steppers carried me all over Spain and through much of the U.K.  They led a full existence, those booties, and they mark for my sister and me what we consider a life-changing year for both of us.

This Fourth of July weekend, I traveled with my husband to visit his family in Bethany Beach, Delaware.  We've been celebrating Independence Day at the Delaware shore for five years now, since before my husband and I married.  Five years doesn't sound like a long time now that I type it, but it has been long enough to accumulate memories and some sentimentality to boot.  Normally, once we arrive, I spend the weekend in bathing suits and his sister's hand-me-down Bethany Surf Shop T-shirts.  This holiday, however, I kicked off the occasion with a new dress, the first red frock I've ever owned.  Perhaps now, after sporting it during fireworks and the like, this fiery number will acquire significance of its own.

I paired the dress with other items that hold meaning for me.  The scarf I snagged for free during a crazy festival weekend in Barcelona.  Since headscarves have my attention this summer, I wore the red patterned fabric as a kerchief.  The necklace I purchased at Austin City Limits music festival last fall.  The dove and rose charms made me feel pretty all weekend, even though the rest of me was coated in mud from the torrential downpour.  Ah, fond memories.

The latest addition to my story piece collection is an antique brass cameo ring, which I purchased last month at a boutique in Savannah, Georgia.  I wore it last week in an easy outfit inspired by the charming city itself.

Prompts:

• Do you wear certain items of clothing specifically for the memories you associate with them?  If so, tell us about your favorite story pieces!
• Have you recently acquired un recuerdo?  Where did you find it, and how does it function as a memento for you?
• Has anyone seen the play Love, Loss, and What I Wore, now running at The Westside Theatre in NYC?  Have any of you read the book on which the play is based?  I'm dying to see the show, because, from what I can tell, it relates to women and the histories our clothes tell.  Fun!
• Anyone else feel conflicted over the associations between women and the color red?  I can't clear the mental hurdle of Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.  Am I too limited in my understanding?

Summer Black-Out Challenge

Drafts:

Composition:
Tuesday:                                                                  
purple satin-ish dress and belt (sister's closet)           
pink button-down (NY&Co)                                     
brown wedges (Old Navy)                                       
Wednesday:                                                                                  
antiqued gold earrings (Charlotte Russe)
green striped and yellow tanks (sister's closet)   
khakis (Old Navy)                                          
antiqued gold bangle (Ann Taylor Outlet)
white wedges (Mia via Sears.com)
 Thursday:                                                                
turquoise beaded necklace (Kohl's)                           
white button-down (NY&Co)                                   
stone belt (NY&Co)                                                  
cropped stone trousers (NY&Co)                              
rose gold flowered sandals (Old Navy)                    
Friday:
red jacket (sister's closet)
white cami (Old Navy)
brown belt (Kohl's)
cropped jeans (Gap)
red flats (gift from my mom)


Usage:
The alternative title for this post should be "Shopping My Sister's Closet."  My sister is storing her "nice" clothes at my house while she works at a summer camp for the next few months, which of course means I'm wearing them!  Best idea ever!  As I mentioned in my last post, I accepted Sal at Already Pretty's black-out challenge!  At first, I thought this would be easy, especially since I had access to so many extra items of clothing.  Over the course of the week, though, I realized I'm much more dependent on black apparel, accessories, and shoes than I had realized.

On Tuesday, I wanted to embrace bright colors to get away from Monday's neutral experiment.  This purple dress has the same cut as this one I love, and I originally tried wearing the button-down underneath the dress, like a jumper.  It didn't look right, though, so I put the button-down over the top and liked how the wide belt created a color blocking look.  In this outfit I felt bright and cheerful, and I noticed that being in a colored skirt gave me a little more pep in my step than my usual black pencil skirt does.

On Wednesday, I thought I'd try this almost-breton-stripe tank top I discovered in my sister's drawer.  (I love this look, which Anne-Marie styles here, but I haven't been able to find a breton tank top I like.)  I was feeling a little adventurous for my shopping excursion, I didn't have to go to work, and I was excited about my new white wedges, so I thought I'd try this cuffed khaki look I have liked on other women.  Verdict?  I still like this look on other women.  On me, I think it looks stupid.  Plus, I couldn't help feeling like the early 90s childhood version of myself who lived in pegged-legged jeans.  I had intended to use the yellow tank underneath to give the outfit a little more color, and the gold accessories to make it look more polished, but I still think the outfit looks too blah.  (If I cut out the jeans from Friday's look, and place them over the khakis paper-doll style, I think I'd have a MUCH better outfit!)

On Thursday, I thought about how one of my cold weather fall-backs is a combination of black and gray with a pop of color.  I decided that the summer alternative to this ensemble would be a combination of light khaki/stone items and white, and I added my turquoise necklace to serve as the pop of color.  I'm not sure that worked (it's mostly obscured by my hair), but I still liked this opposite take on my winter neutrals.  I felt refreshed and crisp in this ensemble.  Katie and I also agreed that the belt brought out the safari-like look of the button down, which has two chest pockets.  I can definitely see myself trying out different iterations of this color(less) scheme this summer.

On Friday, I was beside myself!  I couldn't think of anything to wear that wasn't black!  I wondered why I had ever accepted this challenge!  I wanted to get back in bed!  So I went back to my sister's closet and discovered this great red jacket/top.  It has some fantastic structural details that I'm not sure this picture really captures.  I know how I would have styled this any other time: with a black belt and black cami.  (I love red and black together.)  I was surprised how much more "summery" this outfit felt when I put on a white cami and brown belt instead.  I'm afraid the shoes might be taking me into matchy-matchy territory, but since they don't match the belt, I still felt safe in coordinated but not over-coordinated territory.

Thanks for this challenge, Sally!  It helped me realize that part of my problem with styling "summer appropriate" looks is that black is my default neutral.  Staying away from black helped me realize that I can use the clothes I already have to put together looks that feel right for warmer weather, whereas before I would have said that I have very few clothes that I like to wear during the summer.  I thought I would run out of steam when it came to avoiding black, but the looks from Thursday and Friday are actually my favorites, which suggests I was learning to think about my clothes even more creatively as the week went on.

Prompts:

• Has writing or reading "style" blogs helped you to identify blind spots in your styling tendencies?  Which ones?
• Have you ever tried "trendy" styling techniques like the cuffed khakis?  Can you execute them or do you fail miserably, like I did?
• Did anyone notice that I'm not wearing any prints? (Unless you count stripes, which I don't.) What's up with that?  Looks like I might have my next styling challenge.

Quick Change: Neon

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:
I wore these nude flats with a casual ensemble.
I donned the yellow wedges with a patterned frock.
I wore this bib necklace with a subdued palette.

Composition:
pink tiered skirt (Target)
white tee (H&M)
chartreuse halter top (Gap, several seasons ago)
yellow wedges (Nine West)
nude flats (Jessica Simpson)
wooden and enamel bracelets (thrifted)
turquoise bib necklace (Shopmamie.com)

Usage:
Two things are certain: first, I have failed miserably at executing the shampooing-my-hair pose, and, second, I have officially hopped aboard this season's neon bandwagon.

I bought this skirt on sale at Target, thinking it would help me ease into the neon trend.  (See Exhibit A, on the left.)  I quickly learned that, when dressing to imitate my highlighter set, there is no easing.  There is only the all-in approach.  Pairing a fabulously bright skirt with a white T-shirt?  I could not have been safer had I strapped on a seatbelt.  Womp, womp.  So, in my second attempt (Exhibit B, on the right), I embraced color, much like Katie did with her Granny Smith Apple green bag.  I feel bold in this ensemble.  I feel like I'm riding the life roller coaster with hands in the air and both eyes open.  The takeaway for me?  Do color, especially neon hues, full-on.

The fashion market has revived the brights obsession at an opportune moment for my personal life,  just as I'm stepping away from graduate school and into the world of paid labor.  Not that I'll attend job interviews in yellow pant suits.  However, on these days in between employment, when I'm struggling to find motivation, brights prompt me to go for the gusto.  Wearing neon requires courage, I think, because these hues don't allow me to blend in with a crowd.  And courage is the best salve for my current ambivalence.  Exchanging my beloved neutrals for shield-my-eyes shades of yellow, green, pink, and orange reminds me to slough off my noncommittal attitude regarding corporate America.  I gave grad school a fair shot; I owe it to myself to give Working World a fair shot, too.  I'm all in.

Prompts:

• Are you game-on r.e. the revival of brights?  Ambivalent?  Mournful?
• How have you dipped your toes in the neon waters?  Have you found successful ways to wear the shades?  Several weeks ago, I dabbled in neon nail polish and had a great time.  I like this tutorial by Emily at Cupcakes & Cashmere.
• What's your interpretation of the "neon attitude"?  Am I wrong about these hues requiring sartorial courage?

Summer Staples

Draft:

Composition:
blue dress (Target)
flip flops (Rainbow)
purse (Coach)
sunglasses (H&M)
signature items

Usage:
Fashion summer, as opposed to meteorological summer, is here, so I've been thinking about my summer staples.

1. Cotton sundress

One great thing about summer is that one and done looks are so much easier since you don't need tights, cardigans or coats since the temperature is warmer.  For me, simple dresses, like this one that I got at Target for probably around $10, are key.  They're a great way to look put together with minimal effort - plus, they're comfortable and keep you cool.  You can dress them up with accessories or high-heeled sandals, or wear them as I have here with just flip flops and minimal accessories.

2. Flip flops

These ubiquitous summer shoes have many incarnations.  From the $1 Old Navy plastic version to the $385 Gucci edition, flip flops reign during summer.  I like this pair because the black design on it adds some visual interest, making it, I think, a step up from the regular thong sandal.  Of course, no flip flop would be complete without a pedicure.  I like bright colors for my toe nails, experimenting on them far more than I would on my finger nails.  I'm currently wearing OPI's My Chihuahua Bites!, which is a coral-y orange-red - a great summery color that immediately makes me think of sunsets on the beach.

3. Bright Bag

I once wrote that I have a firm belief in bold, stylish coats because they are our opening sartorial statement.  I have similar feelings about purses.  I got this little green one deeply discounted at a Coach outlet awhile ago.  I carry it a lot in the summer because I just love the playfulness of the Granny Smith color, which always adds to my outfit.

Also, you can always accessorize with a puppy:

Prompts:

• What are your summer staples?
• Are you drawn to brighter colors in the summer like me?  Or do you wear them all year long, using them to spruce up dreary winter days?

Friendly Inspiration... to Revisit Barthes

Draft:

Composition:
graphic tee (Out of Print, gift from Anne-Marie)
clear beaded necklace (Kohl's)
white bermuda shorts (Old Navy)
rose gold sandals (Old Navy)
book (Moby Dick by Herman Melville)

Usage:
Anne-Marie gave me this Moby Dick Tee as a graduation gift to commemorate the end by remembering the beginning: our first grad school assignment was to read the entire book in one week.  Welcome to graduate school, ladies!  She found the tee at Out of Print, a t-shirt company that claims to "celebrate the world's greatest stories through fashion."  Or, at least, they celebrate the books which were originally published with cover designs that they consider "striking works of art."  Additionally, they work with Books For Africa to donate one book to "a community in need" for each tee that is purchased.

Earlier this week, I was talking to AM about how uncomfortable I am posing for these photos.  I was having trouble figuring it out.  I'm not uncomfortable with my body, I love my clothes, and I take the photos using a self-timer, so it shouldn't be a matter of being embarrassed about taking them.  She told me I need to think of posing for the photos as a performance, just as I think of dressing as a performance.  I gave this some thought.  What am I performing in the photos?  My identity?  I don't think so.  My personality?  Maybe.  So I tried to perform a little more personality in the photos for today's post.

I also decided to use Anne-Marie's gift to serve as the foundation for an AM-inspired casual outfit.  I think I struggle to style casual looks, but AM says she doesn't believe me.  I've been trying to embrace my natural hair texture and figure out how to feel comfortable with its unruliness, and AM says she prefers it wavy, so I didn't dry and straighten it.  She also claims that a nude shoe goes with everything.  When she showed us her white capris recently, I remember that I had these shorts in my closet.  To add a bit of theatricality to an otherwise standard outfit, I also added this recently acquired clear beaded bauble necklace (does it remind anyone else of Gaga's bubble "dress"?  Or a cluster of grapes?).  I think it came together well, and I enjoyed wearing this ensemble; thanks for the inspiration, Anne-Marie!

As I thought more about this photographic "performance" she suggested, I realized: wait, I've read this before.  In Camera Lucida, Roland Barthes addresses this.  He recognizes that when he poses for a photo that he knows is going to be taken, "I instantaneously make another body for myself, I transform myself in advance into an image" (10), and that as a result, "I feel that the Photograph creates my body or mortifies it" (11).  He also addresses the impossibility of the photograph representing what he wants it to represent,  writing, "What I want, in short, is that my (mobile) image, buffeted among a thousand shifting photographs, altering with situation and age, should always coincide with my (profound) 'self,'" but that this cannot happen because "'myself' never coincides with my image" (12).  As a result, he concludes-- and this seems to me central to my anxiety about the photographs-- "the Photograph is the advent of myself as other: a cunning dissociation of consciousness from identity" (12).

I hadn't noticed this kind of anxiety about being photographed before, I think, because I never really posed for photos by myself.  Even for these two photos, holding the book in my hands gave me a sense of comfort about the posing, like there was something there with me.  When I photograph myself by myself (and here we get into another issue that I might address another time: I'm technically the photographer and the object of the photograph) this anxiety is heightened because I know there will be nothing to look at in the photograph except me.  Why don't I think of it as a photograph of my clothes, since that is what this blog is about, rather than a photograph of me?  I don't know.  Maybe making that distinction will help.

All that to say, I think Barthes might help me think through these issues and, ultimately, to feel more comfortable with the photographic element of this blog.  But the google books preview of Camera Lucida stops at page 12, and my notes on the text in its entirety are fairly brief, so I'll have to wait until the copy I requested makes it to my library before I can return to this topic.  I do intend to return, though, because I have that exciting sense that we sometimes get as researchers-- the sense that I am heading in the right direction even though I can't put into words why I am sure of it.

Work Cited:
Barthes, Roland.  Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography.  Translated by Richard Howard.  Editions du Seuil, 1980.  Firrar, Straus, and Gireaux, 1981.  Hill and Wang, 1982. Via Google Books.

Prompts:

• Thoughts on this outfit?  
• Fellow style bloggers: I know I'm not alone in feeling anxiety about posing for the photos because I've read some of your posts on the subject.  Please feel free to throw your thoughts into conversation with mine, too!
• If you've found ways to feel more comfortable posing for photos of just yourself, please share those, too!
• What are your reactions to the section of Barthes I've tried to share here?  Do you sense this self-as-other feeling when you look at a photograph of yourself?

Dual Functions

Draft:

Composition:
purple top (Marshall's)
jeans (Marshall's)
silver flats (Payless)

Usage:
Classes are over (woo!), but I'm working at the office through July.  The grad assistant dress code is a bit murky - we obviously must look presentable, but I occasionally forgo my business casual attire in favor of jeans.  Now that it's summer there are far fewer people around the building, so with less people to impress, I wore this outfit today.

I think dark wash jeans are always a classic, low key opening to pair with virtually anything.  I love these silver flats because they always add a little shimmer to an outfit, also nice for transitioning from day to night.  The focal point of the outfit, the top, is a flowy top with purple, pink, and blue tones in it.  It ties behind at the waist, highlighting the smallest part of my body.

I wore this blouse today because I've been thinking about SSG's participation in Dress Your Best week.  I absolutely love the idea of specifically dressing to emphasize what you love about your body rather than trying to hide any perceived "flaws."  While thinking about this project, I realized that, for me, the two concepts often go hand-in-hand.  Take this top for example.  It has the dual function of showcasing my hourglass figure, but not in an obvious way, and making me look smaller by cinching at the waist while the flowing fabric hides my stomach, which I consider one of my "problem areas."  I never consciously think that I have to "hide" anything on my body, but when I consider looks that flatter my assets, I find that they often minimize parts I'm not so interested in showing off.

Prompts:

• Do you find that your clothes both highlight and minimize?  Or do you specifically dress to do one or the other?
• What's your professional dress code?

My Game Face Garments

Draft:

Composition:
taupe cotton short-sleeved top (thrifted from early college)
linen cropped jacket (Gap via my sister's closet)
dark wash skinny jeans (Forever 21 via my sister's closet)
blue gladiator sandals (MIA via Piperlime)

Usage:
Today I'm dressing for a two hour exam period and a few additional hours of library research.  I want to feel comfortable enough to cozy up in a desk chair, yet empowered enough to compose a stellar in-class essay.

On days like today, stretch-cotton jeans are a must for me.  They keep me warm in chilly classrooms but allow me to traipse up and down library aisles and all about campus.  Layering garments and donning flat shoes are also requirements, for similar reasons.  Physical comfort is a good thing indeed.

I'm also wearing these articles of clothing in the hope that they will empower me in other, more emotional, ways.  These pieces hold sentimental value for me.  The top is one of my closet all-stars, for it has seen me through multiple excursions abroad and now six years of scholarly pursuits.  It's looking a little threadbare, I admit, but I refuse to part with it.  It has helped me navigate foreign metro systems, deliver presentations on Romantic poets, and endure scathing advising sessions.  Today I'm taking it for one last academic joyride, and I'm crossing my fingers it radiates smartypants vibes.

The jacket and jeans belong to my sister, and I'm wearing them simply because she's a determined soul and I'm hoping she rubs off on me.  Both garments have sustained her through a few adventures of her own (maybe you'd like to elaborate, Emmy?), so wearing them reminds me to emulate her gumption.  (That's a great word, isn't it, gumption?) 

These are my feel good, can-do clothes.  Tell me about yours!

Prompts:

• What do you wear when you put your Game Face on, so to speak?
• Tell me about the threadbare, well-loved items in your wardrobe!  How long have you owned them, where did you buy them, and during which major events have you worn them?
• Do you borrow clothing from friends or family for sentimental reasons?  How do those pieces make you feel, and what memories do they hold for you?

Dressing for University Commencement III

Draft:

Earlier Drafts:

Anne-Marie proposed looks for her brother's commencement here and here.

Composition:

embroidered white strapless dress (White House, Black Market)

black cardigan (NY&Co)

black faux patent belt (Forever 21)

black t-strap sandals (gift from friend)

Usage:

Like Anne-Marie, I got to celebrate my younger sibling's undergraduate graduation this spring!  We traveled to the Midwest this past weekend to watch my sister graduate with her BS in Nursing from the same undergrad institution I attended.  It was fun to help her celebrate the end of her hard work and helped me to think about how far I have come personally and intellectually since my own graduation six years ago.

For this event, I was excited to have the opportunity to wear this white strapless dress again.  I was married on the east coast near my home, but since I grew up on the west coast, we had a second reception in my hometown.  This dress was perfect for this occasion, but I hadn't yet found a way to re-wear it since I avoid wearing white to other peoples' weddings.  Plus, I like the idea of this dress having been worn to two important events in our lives.  I'm kind of a sentimental dresser.

The forecast called for highs in the low 60s, and completely strapless felt a little bare for a college commencement, so I put the black cardigan over the dress and belted it to accentuate my waist.  Using these accessories to draw attention to the black embroidery on the dress also meant I could wear these t-strap sandals I love, which were perfect for a day that required us to walk all over campus. I was really pleased with how the look came together, and I thought it was appropriate for a commencement.  While there were some people there in jeans and concert tees, I subscribe to the belief that we should celebrate important accomplishments by dressing up.  My sister worked hard for that degree, so I felt an obligation to show up in a look that demonstrated how much I cared.

As I sat through the ceremony, though, I realized that I hadn't thought much about functionality.  This is a great strapless dress because it has a little bit of plastic boning that keeps me from having to hike the top up repeatedly... but that boning was very uncomfortable for sitting on bleachers in a gym for an extended period of time.  Next time I attend a graduation I'll be sure to give the dress the sit test.  At least I could take the sweater off when I started to get hot!

I also wanted to add that my sister paired her Jessica Simpson red patent stilettos with her cap and gown.  I thought this was a great way to infuse her firecracker personality into an otherwise un-stylable ensemble that is notoriously unflattering.  They looked great for photos, and I loved how the pop of red flashed as she walk across the stage to collect her diploma.  Congratulations, Vickie!!

Prompts:

• Do you remember what you wore to important events or is that unimportant to your memory of these events?
• How would you feel if your family showed up to your graduation in casual attire?  Am I alone in thinking that dressing up shows we care?
• Do you have any other suggestions for styling yourself while wearing the cap and gown combo?  I'm walking in my MA graduation Friday, and I'd love some suggestions!

Adrienne Rich and Heels

Draft:

Composition:
white v-neck t-shirt (American Eagle)
sand swing jacket (H&M)
gray jersey print skirt (H&M)
cork wedges (Michael Shannon via DSW)
white flip flops (Gap)

In one of my classes recently, we discussed Adrienne Rich's 1980 essay, "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence."  Rich lists high heels as one of the ways men use their power "to confine [women] physically and prevent their movement." She argues that heels are thus part of the "cluster of forces within which women have been convinced that marriage and sexual orientation toward men are inevitable."  A few of my classmates pointed to this passage specifically and admitted to feeling conflicted because they like to wear high heels.

I tried to make the point that in 2010, we can wear high heels differently than women could in 1980.  I believe that because of the advances made in the past 30 years by women like Rich, it is now possible for women to wear heels assertively.  One of our professors uses this Ann Richards quote as part of her email signature:

"If you give us a chance, women can perform. After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels."

This is the spirit in which I like to think I wear high heels.  I hope my choice to wear heels indicates that I'm capable of managing all of my responsibilities, thinking critically about my work, and taking an interest in fashion and style.  I'm conscious, though, that others do not always "read" heels in this way.

As I thought this through, I realized that I don't have very many "traditionally feminine" high heels in my closet.  I prefer wedges, and I don't own a single pair of stilettos or pointy-toed pumps.  Evidently, I'm also drawn to thick straps.  Though I probably wear the black almond-toed wedges more than all of my other heels combined, all six of these pairs are in somewhat regular rotation in my wardrobe:

While taking the photos for this post, I couldn't help but wonder if I stay away from shoes that are coded as overtly "feminine" because I don't really believe that I can wear shoes like that assertively.  My heel collection is certainly much different than Katie's or Anne-Marie's, both of whom seem comfortable with more traditionally feminine styles.  On the other hand, I think my collection of heels makes sense given my general aesthetic preferences.  I don't own a single item of apparel that has a bow on it.  I think one of the reasons I wear belts so regularly is because I'm really drawn to the look of buckles.  Until recently, I preferred pleats to ruffles.

For this look, I thought I'd photograph both pairs of sandals that I considered wearing.  One of the things I previously said I liked about heels is that they make me stand up straighter, but my posture in both of these photos is so terrible that I'm not sure that's actually true.  (As a side note, posing for these photos is, for me, definitely the most difficult element of contributing to this blog.  Fellow fashion/style bloggers, can you empathize?)  I ended up wearing the flip-flops.  After this mental exercise, I find myself feeling thoroughly ambiguous about heels, but I'm glad I've begun to think more critically about how, when, and why I wear them.

Work Cited:

Rich, Adrienne. "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence." Adrienne Rich's Poetry and Prose. W W Norton & Co Inc, 1993. 203-224. Print.  Google Books.

Prompts:

• How do you respond to Adrienne Rich's criticism of high heels?  
• Am I right in suggesting that the ways in which we can wear heels have changed since she composed this groundbreaking essay?  I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this issue.
• Do you wear high heels or do you opt out of this trend?  Why?