coloring outside the lines

 

During the past year or so, my wardrobe has become alarmingly monotone -- sorting through dresser drawers full of nothing but black, grey, navy and olive green is like squinting at a page out of Where's Waldo.

Now that it's summer, I'm really in the mood for brighter, more playful pieces. I bought this dress earlier in the season and haven't had much of a chance to wear it until today (97 degrees, feels like 106...). It's easy to throw on and, despite the stripes, not too difficult to pimp out with jewelry and a belt borrowed from another dress.

(UO dress, Aeropostale tank, Ann Taylor belt, Tibet Arts bracelet, earrings stolen from Cora, & bare feet.)

buying art

As the daughter of two freelance artists and as a writer myself, I've always felt that owning art is not a luxury, but a necessity. I bought my first piece of art at 9 (it was $90 and my parents paid for half), and it's hung in my bedroom ever since.

I'm starting to think about decorating my new place for the coming school year. Seeing as my whole buy-everything-at-Ikea plan was shot down by this article, I've decided instead to personalize the stark white walls with pieces from a few artists I've come to really like.

Mohawk Fashion Illustration Print by Kathryn Elyse Rodgers of Paper Fashion. If you don't read this blog already, you absolutely should -- I spend time every day just staring at each new post.

'Overheard on the Titanic' by Austin Kleon. I love this entire series for the way it marries poetry and visual art to create something that is at once delicate and powerful.

'Paper Sculpture' by Kelsey Olson of MCAD. Okay, so maybe it's a little much for a dorm room, but doesn't it look cozy?

la dee da

Today my jaw, which had been wired shut for six weeks, was set free.

I was so happy that I couldn't stop grinning at my mom while my surgeon explained important things like how I'll get a tension headache if I eat anything too chewy, how I should put on rubber bands at night if my jaw starts to move, etc. I just want to add that he was wearing multi-colored neon sneakers and a tie-dyed cap while he was telling me all of this. How many people can say that someone so sartorially daring operated on their FACE? Not too many.

Needless to say, this has been a pretty good day. In the words of my (*really cute*) neighborhood barista as he put the final stamp on my stamp card, "You get a free drink, your jaw is unwired; everything's falling into place!"

Here are a few fun things for you to look at (maybe tomorrow, since you should be outside enjoying the gorgeous weather, not sitting in the house un-tanning like me):

A pretty sweater I'm hoping to make for fall (and how sassy is that picture? Not common for a knitting pattern, let me tell you!)

If I can one day be even half this chic, I will die a happy woman. (via The Sartorialist).

These are too cute for words. I'm investigating where and how they're made...fingers crossed that they're fair trade! I'd love to wear the pink pair with cigarette pants and an Oxford shirt.

Yet another reason to move to Paris.

beginning again

Britain, 1890 (magazine.motilo.com)

Haiti, 2009 (nosweat.org.uk)

After yesterday's post, I got to thinking about the search for ethically-made clothing. In the past, I've been completely overwhelmed by the immensity of this issue; there are many directions from which to approach it (environmentally sound/sweatshop free/locally made...), and in the end it feels so much easier to just push it out of your mind and head to the mall.

It's bothered me for a long time, though, that nearly every piece of clothing in my closet was made at the expense of another, in a factory on the other side of the world where the prohibition of unions leads to unfair wages, excessive working hours and even physical and sexual abuse. It seems that not much has changed since The Jungle, and ultimately, I have to ask myself what wearing a beautiful dress or a cozy sweater is really worth.

For me, dressing has always been definitive of the type of person you want to be -- it speaks volumes not only about how you view yourself, but also about how you view others. When you go to a job interview, it's a no-brainer to dress well in order to show that you care. Why not think of "dressing well" in another sense, and show as much respect for the people who make your clothes as you do for the people who see you in them?

For a while now, I've been trying to decide on a direction for this blog -- I want something new and interesting, but also straightforward and relatable. Here is what I decided:

1. I mentioned in my last post that I want to start building a lifelong wardrobe. This wardrobe will be comprised only of clothing made in an ethical manner, in regards to both the environment and labor. These types of clothes do cost more than what I've bought in the past, so I will be purchasing only one new item each month.

2. Because this is primarily a fashion blog, buying only one piece of clothing every month does cut back on the number of outfit photos I can do. With this in mind, I will also be investigating and writing about companies who make and sell ethical clothing that is also fashion-forward (in the words of my mother, no-one wants to look like a bag lady).

3. As I build this new wardrobe, I also want to start thinking about the type of life that I'll be living as an adult. This includes the food I eat, the transportation I choose, and where I want to live and work. This blog will be a place to share stories about all of these adventures.

4. I know this was a very (very) long post, and I promise I'll be sharing more pictures, music, and videos in the future. Be sure to check back often, and let me know what you think!

green with envy

Last night, I became obsessed with the Burberry Brit Gabardine trench coat. It is deliciously beautiful, and I spent fifteen solid minutes just staring at it (while simultaneously waiting for my heart rate to decrease). I carefully figured out how long it would take me to save for it (six months) and made a pact with myself not to buy any new clothes until it was on my back (and my savings were replenished).

I am a firm believer in buying good, high-quality clothes that you can wear forever, and because I'm turning 20 this year, I think it's time to start thinking about building a wardrobe for myself. However, $1,195 a huge amount of money for a college girl (and an English major, no less). I know that I would probably wear it through dinner parties for fear of having it disappear like Carrie Bradshaw's Manolos at her friends' baby shower.

At the same time, I don't want to buy a cheap coat that I'll only wear for a couple of years and that is probably made unethically. This evening, I looked up companies that use sweatshops and was very upset -- though not surprised -- to find that most of my favorites were on the list. A google search for sweatshop-free clothing turned up a number of companies, but also a lot of awkward high-waisted Bermuda shorts and North Face-esque fleeces.

That is, until I found this blog and this gorgeous thing:

I think we're going to be very happy together.

Paris, je t'aime

Parisian Chic with some other books that were, just, you know, lying around.

Look what the mailman brought for me today! In what I considered to be a very appropriate use of the Amazon gift card sent to me by my Francophile aunt, I ordered Ines de la Fressange's Parisian Chic last week.

I leafed through it while drinking tomato soup through a straw (my jaw's wired shut. I don't want to talk about it). Un-chic? Yes. Oh well.

If you don't take it too seriously, it's a fun book, complete with sketches of pencil-thin girls in drapey sweaters and photographs of de la Fressange's obscenely gorgeous daughter. The writing is, for the most part, witty and easy to read ("Matching tights, shoes and bag -- no, you can't") but occasionally goes over the top ("The Parisian may be a petite size 2 [rest assured, I do know a few size 4s...]"). The photos of cafés, bookstores and boutiques had me wanderlusting for Paris, but if I'm not allowed to binge then maybe I'll go to Rome instead.

Quips aside, I do still love Parisian dressing, so I've compiled a wish-list of some basic pieces from the book (within the college girl's [sometimes imaginary] price range).

Silence & Noise Boyfriend Blazer (Urban Outfitters, $78)

Classic trench (Banana Republic, $198)

Cashmere V-neck (JCrew, $148)

1x1 ribbed tank (Ann Taylor Loft, $14.50). The book says Abercrombie & Fitch, but I am NOT going in there. One, it's so dark I can't even see where I'm going. Two, the sales people seem to have adopted the belief that anyone less hot than they are should not be alive.

Little Black Dress (Gap, $59.95)

Belstaff bomber jacket (JCrew, $1,195). Okay, so it's just a dream.

(tom)boy scout

My dad's boy scout shirt has been a staple in my wardrobe since 9th grade. It's easy to wear, and works just as well with cut-offs and ballet flats as it does with black cigarette pants and heels.

Worn with homemade cut-offs and Aldo flats.

Cora and I hiked through mud and rain-soaked plants to take these pictures. For a second there, I almost felt like a real live boy scout. Almost.

 Essie's Sew Psyched, the inspiration for this post.

Not many things can out-cheese a boy scout, but this picture just might have done it.