Earlier Drafts:
This skirt has helped me ease into neon.
Composition:
yellow spotted top (Billabong via Swell)
pink skirt (Target)
gold heels (Guess)
yellow clutch (SR Squared by Sondra Roberts)
Usage:
I enjoy wedding season, even the thick, dead-heat-of-summer of it. The romance, the food, the music, and the reunions with old friends combine to make June and July weekends positively delightful. Last Saturday, I road-tripped with friends to just such a festive occasion in Connecticut. I easily planned my casual outfits for the mini-vacation, but I was stumped as to my (semi-)formal attire. I'm disenchanted with dresses, see.
I'm over frocks because I've cycled through most of my own. My interior monologue goes like so: "I wore that dress to a bridal shower last week, this one to my brother's graduation, and I'm reserving that one for an outdoor affair in the middle of August." Not that I own merely three dresses. But what's with this No Overlap rule? The one which cautions against outfit repeats, especially at weddings which occur in the same calendar year and with similar guest lists? Don't the gods of wedding fashion empathize with our plight? It's nearly impossible to wear a dress differently enough to disguise it as an entirely new ensemble. (Props to Liz for accomplishing just such a feat earlier this week.) Sure, a unique clutch, heels in a different shade, and perhaps a belt can infuse a frock with new vitality, but changing the accessories won't prevent your former college apartmentmate from greeting you with, "I haven't seen you since So-and-So's wedding last month! Weren't you wearing the same dress then?" Hmph. Detected.
I'm also disillusioned with dresses because I'm bored with their silhouettes, especially the two to which I most often revert. First, I'm tempted to purge my closet of all empire-waisted, spaghetti-strapped, knee-length, mono-articles of clothing. I'm tired of seeing myself in them, and wedding attendees everywhere likely sense my halfheartedness toward donning them, too. On my curve-less body this look is the quintessence of "Blah." Second, although I'm grateful for my trusty strapless get-ups, I supremely dislike joining the requisite mob of fellow tube-topped women simultaneously hiking up their uppermost hems in preparation for the bouquet toss. At the most, I feel cloned and mechanical; at the very least, I feel well-choreographed. Are we all bored with these silhouettes, or do I need to join the rest of you in branching out? More variety please, screams my closet!
In my pursuit of more interesting semi-formal options for the Connecticut fete, the color palette of Katie's Catherine Malandrino dress inspired me. I liked her refreshing combination of pinks and yellows. Even better, I liked that my limited frock selection prompted me to translate Katie's pastels into a neon-hued skirt + top pairing of my own. I wanted rose-plus-lemon, but my closet offered the more saturated bubblegum-plus-trafficlight. I wanted a new silhouette, and I got frills and layers, without venturing down the dress route. This look feels energized to me. What do you think?
Next up on my silhouette pursuit: pants to a wedding. I'm not sure I'm brave enough to try it. Have any of you ladies attempted it?
Prompts:
- What silhouettes do you normally wear to weddings and other semi-formal / formal affairs?
- How do you dress creatively for events which require more or less standard attire?
- Have you ever worn pants to a wedding, ladies? If so, how did you wear them? I'd like to try it, but I need some advice from braver souls first.
- After I wore this top, Liz expressed surprise that I had effectively repurposed a surf brand garment for an explicitly uncasual event. We're both loyal to beach wear, but we tend to keep it in context, this outfit being an exception. Would you wear pieces cross-context like this? To what extent to you heed the marketing of clothing brands?






