February 28, 2012

Pictures of Me

(The title is a self-centered take on "Pictures of You." As in, "I've been looking so long, at these pictures of me, that I almost believe that they're real.")

Anyhow, me. IRL. Long hair, long coat, not so long pants. iPhone daytime realness outside my house, just before heading to the bus stop. It's not a small jacket. My arms are just freakishly long.

I don't know... I thought you might be missing my face?

February 21, 2012

Part 3: Growing Up Too Fast

AKA On Becoming a Bad Bitch
AKA "Mature for Her Age"
AKA A Post about St. John. Yes, St. John.

I did start to take a peek into Fall 2012, just to see what was happening. And this is my favorite thing that happened. Sorry, but it's true. SO shiny!

So ridiculously beautiful and perfect for all future Susies. At 30, 40, 50, 60... you get the idea. So I think at this point my plan is to move through the Costume National and Sonia Rykiel type looks in my ultimate, decades-long transition into a funkier, less severe version of this woman:

Mature me will probably have less shiny and less curl-bouncy hair than the above ladies, but she will most likely serve up this kind of face.

While it's true that I am already using some "youth regenerating" face serum nightly, I am also completely embracing my aging process. Being older will look great. (My birthday is soon, must keep telling myself these things.)

February 20, 2012

Part 2: Composure, Francophilia

Second up in my current group of 3 inspiring collection: Sonia Rykiel spring 2012. It's so very French. The styling reads girlish, but the clothes are cut to wonderfully grown-up shapes and proportions. These looks seem to require that you have your shit together, at least outwardly, to pull them off. Your confidence-in-your-appearance game as well as your general strong woman swagger must all be firmly intact.

Love the pastels with black, love the slouchy and the baggy. I want to live in a world where people wear primarily luxurious-looking fabrics in everyday life.

Love the shoes so much. Ditto the ribbon-adorned soft top baseball cap. I'm crazy about the dark orange dress with black stripes. (That would look so good on me.) I want to fashion myself in (perhaps some discount version of) all these looks. Slouchy sweater vests and silk skirts are not hard to come by, neither are 70s geometric knits and voluminous, pale bottoms. But that orange dress is a singular one. There is no other version of it that will suffice.

Bright colors, ya'll. Because it's almost Spring!

February 17, 2012

Spirit Collections: Part 1

I'm back. With some sickening (in both senses of the term) runway looks in a shade of Nicki Minaj lip color. This is the first in a weekend series of three posts about how I'm working on getting my groove back. And also finding new grooves (via old habits) or something.

Did you hear? It's fashion week times once again, just like it was a few months back, and will be again in yet a few months. What will the future look like? Will these fashion wizards tell us, using but mere cloth and emaciated, mostly pale, bodies? Gosh, I sure hope so. I know that my present had been getting stale, and the future, well, isn't it supposed to always get better?

Pardon my sarcasm. What I really mean to say is, I just haven't felt the special fashion spark lately. Not much has been said on the runways. There have been no revelations in dress. A lack of leadership, or vision, or challenge, or perhaps funds and creative support. Especially in New York. And if you don't trust me, just check in with HBIC Cathy Horyn. I often find myself in agreement with her. And if Ralph Lauren is ranking high on her list simply because he did a good job, once again, making clothes, then I know I'm in for some lackluster shit.

But ever since the internet let me pretend to have some feigned "access" to the hubbub (used it) of fashion weeks, I have generally not cared too much for the immediacy of the newest seasons. So, as it's now about to be spring, I'm interested in seeing what spring 2012 looks were/are all about. Because I need to think about dressing for spring and I'd like some visual cues.

With all the typical offerings not really doing anything for me, I found myself in a strange place. I just started clicking aimlessly on brand/designer names on style.com. Who would surprise me? Who might offer some glimmer of hope, a striking sort of originality that resonates?

Somehow this is my answer to a rut of clothing boredom: Costume National Spring 2012. I believe this to be one of my current top 3 "spirit" collections. 

On my use of "spirit collection": The term sprang from my monologue on this collection. Looking at the odd tailoring, the gross colors, the random bondage element below, the sheer, and especially the bad shoes, especially the use of seafoam green and a pointy toed heel, I realized, I love shit like this. I love silk pants. I love weird jackets. I had both a seafoam green and a hot pink phase (7th grade and 2003-2006, respectively). And pointed toe shoes have always been OK with me. Let's be real, I was one of those girls with some Irregular Choice flats with the pointed toe that actually curled up at the tip, so long and pointy was its toe.

I realized that Costume National 2012 captured something of my own spirit. It made me reflect on my life up to this point, on the things about my past selves I rejected out of conformity to newness and fear of my differences, but which I always still secretly treasured (like my 7th grade picture day look: a top to bottom all seafoam green vintage 70s pant suit featuring a wide lapel blazer, flared trousers, and worn with but a white babydoll tanktop underneath).

There is something here for every Susie. Me at 3, 10, definitely at 13, probably still at 15, fully again at 20, and, well, me right now. We all would be into this.

This season, I'm focusing on developing my fashion spirit. What that means may be scary at times, even to me. Like when I decide to actually embrace the pointy slingback kitten heels currently gathering dust in my closet, or attempt to wear something that pleases me as much as that dress above right, which looks like its growing chest hair.

The lesson in my mind is not so much about being some special unique individual bold individual woman, but about scratching my way out of a now quite familiar rut. It's the place I get myself into when Big Life Changes scare me into dressing in some sort of sad camouflage so that I can pretend to hide in plain sight while I adjust to my surroundings. This is a stupid thing I do, and it never even works. They still see me.