It’s that time of the season, when all the clothes seem old and done and nothing seems special anymore. Suddenly the coming season starts to look more enticing. The problem is only exacerbated by the fact that I love fall/winter layering and particularly the fabrics. Wool, tweed, corduroy, cable knit.
This picture is from the Bass corporate website (sadly they don’t have online shopping), and this is exactly how I picture myself on my best days. Back to school, yum.
Here’s a flat from Steve Madden, named “Pavement”, and priced at $70 (less 30% at the moment):
And here is “Candbury” by Chloé, originally 465 of the US dollars but down to $232.50 at Net-a-Porter:
I like this sort of thing because it’s very easy to take a Fred Mertz view of the runways: that high fashion is ridiculous and outrageously priced and irrelevant. And although I wouldn’t argue with the first two, the fact is that what is available for us more humble consumers to buy is very often influenced by the runways. Sometimes, it’s a little more than influence, but I won’t tell if you don’t.
Just make a flipping skirt, ok? Is that so hard?
Imagine this: it’s summer, so you’re carrying a cute fabric tote to work. You set it on the apparently dry countertop while you wash your hands in the bathroom, but when you pick it up, there’s a huge wet splotch on the side. No harm done, but it’s going to be awkward carrying it back to your desk.
Do you carry it with the wet patch turned in, even though it might transfer to your shirt? Do you carry it turned outward, even though it’s kind of icky looking? Do you not care at all that your bag has gotten obviously wet?
I never liked those terrible “if you were a muffin” questions, but I think a worthwhile one is “when buying a handbag, what is one feature that will make or break your purchase?” I asked a high-ranking sorority woman this once and she said the most important thing was to be able to put papers in it without them getting crumpled — so, stiff sides and bigger than 8.5×11.
It’s gotta be at least as useful as knowing that she would be a pumpkin-cranberry muffin, or a coffee maker, or a hockey stick.
I see that you have labeled this color on your website as “crisp orange”.
I think the term you’re looking for is “blaze orange”.
I rather like this dress:
However, thanks to the Victoria’s Secret boobalicious styling policy, I have really no good way to guess what this would look like on me. I mean, this has got to be clipped in the back. You can’t make a dress with those proportions and expect to sell it to people. They ought to hire different models to show the clothing, if only to make me feel less like I’m shopping at Frederick’s. I don’t care how unrealistic the bra models are; I know how bras work. Or they could hire a really flat chested model to show the dress alongside the bra model.
I would get this dress in green, I think, although I do like this navy. It’s on sale so I might well order it.
This dress, however, is henious:
It’s on sale at J Crew, so hopefully that link doesn’t even work any more; for the sake of posterity, it’s the “long pique polo dress” that “goes to new lengths” — har har — which is to say, your ankles.
Geez, it scorches my eyes just looking at it. There is only one good reason to wear a polo shirt dress: if you are a hot tennis player actively playing tennis. And in that case, it must be white and less than knee length.
If I were getting married, I would tell everyone my bridesmaids were going to wear this dress with hot pink crocs, just to see whether any of my so-called loved ones loved me enough to have me committed when the circumstances called for it.
A big d’oh moment this morning. I forgot to do laundry last night, and so I had no tights again today. With it as wet and sloppy as it is outside there was no thought of jeans; one of my great pet peeves is soaking trouser cuffs. So another day of the ever-classy knee highs with boots. It could be worse; at least here no one expects you to be more dressed up than pajamas for class.
All of which reminds me that I have need of more tights, at least to stave off laundry day by slightly longer.