Just me—an ARCA (Average Right-Coast American) who loves thinking about style and fashion, shopping for clothes, looking at clothes—modern, ancient, and in between—walking around in clothes, and pondering why we wear the clothes (and accoutrements) we wear—or don’t wear.
Eclectic. Casual. Funky. Playful. Definitely not minimalist, although I can do that. If I have to. I guess. By inclination, a “more is more” sort. Love layers. Often 3 or more bracelets per wrist; 3 or more necklaces (non-rich girl’s bib); 2, 3, or 4 scarves. Sometimes 2 pairs of earrings, 2 pairs of socks. Frigid winters? Oh boy—we get to wear more clothes!
All about texture, drape, contrast, movement, liveliness. Diana Vreeland: “The eye has to move.” Me: “Give the brain something fun to munch on.” Not much for structure, except for blazers and jackets with sharp architectural lines. Great for contrast with drapey stuff. And attending the odd job interview (jobs pay for clothing, after all).
Best friends with stripes, checks, polka dots, plaids, just about every other pattern (usually abstract, preferably mixed), except for ikat and paisley. As a former crow, crave sparkle and shine—crystal jewelry, metallic sweatshirts, spangled sweaters, sequined kicks
Never met a color I couldn’t at least appreciate, except pastels. Can’t wear them, don’t like looking at them, except on babies—but then babies look good in anything, don’t they?
Prefer skirts these days, even in snowy winters (fleece-lined leggings: hot chocolate for your limbs). Whimsical, yes (goofy city prints, anything sporting favorite Mouse, Mickey). Cute, no. And no one would ever call me “dainty” or “demure.” If they ever did, that would be a sign: Zip up moto boots, head out to find more studded leather wristbands. Black.
Thrift stores, mostly; consignment stores occasionally, if they meet the price criterion: Rarely pay over 5 bucks for anything. Except shoes. And lingerie. Sometimes.
Dress to impress?
Yes—myself. And Vivienne or Francine or Jazz or Amalienne or Rajiki or Celestina Maria Santina or Mattie Rose or Paris Gray-Brown or one other of The Style Sisters (my style subpersonalities; we are one, yet we contain multitudes). Exploring my art form (clothes as soft sculpture), lifting my spirits. Bonus: lifting others’ spirits as well. Garner lots of smiles and compliments from people who love the combos but think they can’t wear what I wear—or whatever they want to wear. Silly idea, that. Happy to be an agent for change: Like what you see? Wear what you want.
No piercing (except ear), no tats—for now. (Best to keep an open mind; that’s what style and fashion are all about, aren’t they?) Love seeing (and sometimes wearing) creations (designer or street) that radically change the dialog on how clothes look, what they mean, who can wear them: Dior’s 1950s “New Look,” Alexander McQueen’s ferociously inventive constructions, Jean Paul Gaultier’s man skirts.
Playtime! Poke around and find a post that speaks to you. Laugh, learn, embrace your inner fashionista, and take back your right to wear whatever you damn please. No matter what “they” say.