Work From Home Wear

Draft:

Composition:
Chicago Marathon tee (runner's expo)
new to my closet medium wash skinnies (American Eagle)
black leather belt (Gap?)

Usage:
Some days when I work from home, I get up early, shower, get dressed in a cute outfit and shoes, and sit down to type.  Pulling my outfit together helps me feel like I'm bringing my "A game" to my writing.

Obviously, this was not one of those days.  I'm doing a lot of work from home this semester, so I've been spending a lot of time in jeans, tees, and bare feet.  I still get up early and shower, but I usually forgo makeup and hair products.  Most of my time at home is spent reading and lesson planning, both of which I can do on the couch, so that's where my husband usually finds me when he gets home from work.  When end-of-term paper writing time comes up, I know I'll be stationed at the table with all my materials spread out around me, and at that point, "getting dressed" plays an important role in getting me going.  Right now, though, I'm enjoying the fact that one of the many privileges of being a graduate student is spending time in my own space.

I know this outfit is not particularly "stylish," and some may even consider it a step backwards in my goal to dress better in the casual register.  I still felt good in it, though.  I know most ladies aren't tucking in tee shirts these days, but I still think it looks better, and I like the faded detailing on these new jeans I purchased to back up my favorite dark skinnies.  My feet always get cold, though.  I have a few pairs of fuzzy socks that I rotate between, but I think I might be in the market for slippers for the first time in my life.  Or maybe some sherpa socks?  This past weekend was the Chicago Marathon, so I broke out my marathon tee to remind myself that even though it's been seven years, training for and completing that race is still one of my proudest accomplishments.  When I was reading Ngugi's Grain of Wheat earlier this semester (a novel set in the context of Kenyan Independence), I was struck by  how strongly my own attitude toward running resonated with of one character's reflections on it.  Ngugi writes, "He had even developed a theory about such races.  'They test how long you can endure hardship,' he used to say. 'You say to yourself.  I will not give up: I will see this to the end'" (229).  Distance running has helped me develop the belief that I'm capable of seeing things to the end, and that belief has been instrumental to my success so far as a graduate student.

Work Cited:
Ngugi Wa Thiang'O.  A Grain of Wheat.  Heinemann/Pearson Education Limited: 1967, 2008.

Prompts:

• If you have the opportunity to work from home, what do you wear?  Do you alternate between casual and "dressy" attire based on the tasks you'll accomplish that day, or am I the only one who does this?
• Do you ever stay in your pajamas all day?  Sometimes I can stay in mine for a few hours if I'm planning to take a break by heading to the gym, but I have to shower and get dressed or I find it hard to stay productive.
• Do you have any suggestions for warm, comfortable around-the-house footwear?
• What non-academic activities do you participate in that help you in your studies?

Textual Analysis: Henry James

Draft:

Composition:
aviators (mall kiosk)
turquoise beaded necklace (Kohl's)
brown cotton jersey dress (Old Navy)
white cami (Old Navy)
brown wedge sandals (Old Navy)
dachshund as accessory (as advocated by Katie)

Usage:
When Katie and Anne-Marie and I were talking about elements we wanted to incorporate in our blog, I couldn't quite remember when I had begun thinking of dressing and composing as similar acts, but I did remember that we had been talking about the two of these as related since we had become friends.  In the "about" page for our blog, we explain accordingly, "Since we see 'composing an outfit' as an act similar to composing a written text, we've developed the 'style guide' theme to pay homage to the countless style guides, handbooks, and manuals we consult when we write."

Last week I revisited Henry James's The Portrait of a Lady, which AM and I read together in our first semester of graduate school, and I came across the passage that I believe first tied these ideas together for me.  It begins with the words of Madame Merle, who is engaged in conversation with Isabel Archer.  (So I'll let James take it from here, rather than trying to paraphrase him.)

'When you've lived as long as I you'll see that every human being has his shell and that you must take the shell into account.  By the shell I mean the whole envelope of circumstances.  There's no such thing as an isolated man or woman; we're each of us made up of some cluster of appurtenances.  What shall we call our "self"?  Where does it begin? where does it end?  It overflows into everything that belongs to us-- and then it flows back again.  I know a large part of myself is in the clothes I choose to wear.  I've got a great respect for things!  One's self-- for other people-- is one's expression of one's self; and one's house, one's furniture, one's garments, the books one reads, the company one keeps-- these things are all expressive.'
That was very metaphysical; not more so, however, than several observations Madame Merle had already made.  Isabel was fond of metaphysics, but unable to accompany her friend into this bold analysis of human personality.  'I don't agree with you.  I think just the other way.  I don't know whether I succeed in expressing myself, but I know nothing else expresses me.  Nothing that belongs to me is any measure of me; everything's on the contrary a limit, a barrier, and a perfectly arbitrary one.  Certainly the clothes which, as you say, I choose to wear, don't express me; and heaven forbid they should!'
'You dress very well,' Madame Merle lightly interposed.
'Possibly; but I don't care to be judged by that.  My clothes may express the dressmaker, but they don't express me.  To begin with it's not my own choice that I wear them; they're imposed upon me by society.'
'Should you prefer to go without them?' Madame Merle enquired in a tone which virtually terminated the discussion.

Our professor invited us to think of this passage as one in which the clothing metaphorically stands in for writing.  In his reading, Isabel's point of view suggests that what should matter in one's writing is one's ideas, and that those ideas should somehow be genuinely expressible.  Madame Merle's point of view, on the other hand, indicates that others cannot know what one is expressing except by interpreting one's modes of expression-- that, according to our professor, word choice, grammar, structure, etc. are things which carry one's expression to one's audience.  I think this analysis "works" in conjunction with my understanding of James, who I generally think of as a writer deeply invested in the expression of details because he believes the details are fundamentally important to his narratives.

I also think the passage functions very interestingly as simply an analysis of dressing choices, too.  I'm so thankful to have rediscovered this passage, which I believe has had a greater impact on the way I think about dressing myself than I had previously realized.  I tend to agree with Isabel that "expressing myself" would be nice to accomplish without having to employ the use of "things," and I wish it was possible to express myself outside society's impositions.  But I also agree with Mme. Merle that the "self" is not something that is so easy to define, and that "one's self-- for other people-- is one's expression of one's self."  I generally believe that whether we like it or not, we are judged by the way we present ourselves, and so we have a responsibility to make sure that our presentation of self (what she calls the "shell") aligns with what we think of ourselves.  And this does correspond to the act of writing, because I often tell my students that whether they like it or not, they will be judged on their use of language, because it is only through that use of language that their readers will be able to access their ideas.

So what does this outfit express about me?  I hope it indicates that I'm easy-going and approachable but also that I behave with intention and that I pay attention to details.  I think this looks is appropriate for a post on James because it is the detail of the turquoise necklace that brings the whole look together for me.  This detail, in my opinion, turns the outfit from something standard you'd see on an Old Navy mannequin into something that I styled for myself.  (And why the aviators?  Because I just got new contacts after several weeks of wearing glasses only, so I was excited to put on some sunglasses!)

And finally, this is my first look for Sal at Already Pretty's black-out week.  I wear more black than brown, but I like how brown looks better up against my bare skin than black, which creates a stark contrast.  For more info on black-out week, see here, and for a list of other participants, see here!  More on this in my next post!

Work Cited:
James, Henry.  The Portrait of a Lady.  Penguin Classics, 2003.  253.  Google Books.

Prompts:

• I'd love to hear your responses to the James passage!
• Do you think the necklace detail is enough to lay claim that this is an expressive outfit?

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?

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?

Textual Analysis: Interpreter of Maladies ("Sexy")

Text:
Lahiri, Jhumpa.  "Sexy."  Interpreter of Maladies.  New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1999.  83-110.  Print.  Google Books


Abstract:
This story in Jhumpa Lahiri's Pulitzer Prize winning collection of short stories features Miranda, a lonely young woman living in Boston.  She begins an affair with Dev, a Bengali man who is married.  Miranda and Dev meet in a department store, while Dev's wife is in India.  When she returns, Miranda goes shopping "to buy herself things she thought a mistress should have," including "a pair of black high heels with buckles smaller than a baby's teeth," "a satin slip with scalloped edges and a knee-length silk robe," "sheer stockings with a seem," and after "searching through piles and wandering through the racks, pressing back hanger after hanger" she finds "a cocktail dress made of slinky silvery material that matched her eyes" (92).

Miranda never gets to wear the items though.  She wears the robe the first time Dev returns to her apartment, but he ignores it.  The next time he visits, she wears jeans -- "she kept the lingerie at the back of a drawer, behind her socks and everyday underwear.  The silver cocktail dress hung in her closet, the tag dangling from the seam.  Often, in the morning, the dress would be in a heap on the floor; the chain straps always slipped off the metal hanger" (93).

Analysis:
I find this passage interesting because I think it registers on several different levels for most women.  The line that I bolded -- "to buy herself things she thought a mistress should have" -- particularly resonates with me, specifically Miranda's supposition that this status has a certain clothing code.  In her mind, these clothes mark her as a mistress; they are sexy, superfluous, seductive, and impractical.  Miranda is a mistress whether or not she owns the clothing, but she does not feel like one until she looks for items that she "should" have.  To play this role, Miranda must look the part.

This concept of how clothing marks us translates far beyond this story, and I think it hits on some of the issues that we explore on this blog.  Namely, it addresses the performativity of clothing, how the way we dress sends certain messages and how we manipulate our own images.  The president of a company is still the president whether she wears a sweatsuit or a Chanel suit.  But are we more likely to understand her and contextualize her as such if she wears the latter.  (This concept applies across gender lines: the same holds true for a male company president).  

Prompts:

• Have you ever bought an item of clothing because you felt you "should" own that type of item?
• How do you perform different roles with your clothing?  Do you have a different "uniform" for different functions -- teacher and/or professional?  student?  wife/girlfriend?  
• Do you have a completely unessential but beautiful dress with the tags still on hanging in your closet like Miranda (and me)?

Textual Analysis: Harriet Beecher Stowe

Text: 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, and Judie Newman (Editor). Dred. Edinburgh Univ Pr, 1992. Print.  Google Books


Abstract:
At the beginning of Dred, we're introduced to a young female protagonist named Nina.  She has inherited her family's southern plantation, but both of her parents died when she was young, so her guardian is her Aunt Nesbit.  Early in the novel, Aunt Nesbit tells Nina that her tendency to wear flowers "only feeds vanity and a love of display."  Nina responds:
"I don't think it's vanity, or a love of display.  I should want to dress prettily, if I were the only person in the world.  I love pretty things because they are pretty.  I like to wear them because they make me look pretty." (77)

Analysis:
As I read this passage, I couldn't help but think about the project we're undertaking here at Scholar Style Guide.  Aunt Nesbit voices what I believe is the main criticism made against women interested in fashion and style-- our critics are likely to suggest that we're vain or self-indulgent.  Nina's response interested me because she begins with an idea I can get behind, suggesting she would dress the way she does if she were all alone in the world.  In the final sentence of her response, though, she makes a shift toward vanity in suggesting that she wants to wear pretty things so that she'll look pretty.  This made me question whether Nina is really dressing "pretty" for herself or if she just thinks she is.  (She's otherwise represented as young, inexperienced, and always learning about the 'realities' of life in the South.)

As I make the daily choice about how I want to style myself, I feel like I'm always balancing dual motivations: I want to wear what makes me feel good and confident, and I also want to communicate myself to others as someone who is professional and competent.  Some days, I dress entirely for myself without worrying about what image I'm projecting at all.  In some circumstances, like job interviews or conference presentations, there is pressure to choose a look that caters more explicitly to the expectations of others.  I'd like to believe that dressing for myself is not vanity.  And while I'm conscious of the judgments people will make about my attire, and I consider those judgments when styling myself, I feel like this is different from simply dressing to "please" or "impress" others.  I'm curious about how those of you who are also scholars interested in style feel about juggling these two motivations.

Prompts:

• What was your reaction to Nina's answer to her aunt's criticism?
• In what ways is dressing to please ourselves different from vanity?  Is it possible to take pride in the way you've styled yourself without projecting vanity?
• In what ways is dressing with an awareness of the judgments people make about us different from dressing to please others?
• How do you juggle the dual motivations of dressing to please yourself and dressing to project an appropriate image of yourself?

-Liz