This month, I will be writing a blog/note/letter a day, every day. Inspired, in part, by The Daily Rumpus, and by the grand ambitious plans I have for posts that never get realized, March seems like a good time to try a something different. Where I let myself ramble--make useless lists, go on about little obsessions, books I'm reading, people I see, thoughts in my head. No big marketable ideas, just bits and pieces a life.
Did you know that there are a whole subset of petite fashion bloggers? Who are and blog about being tiny and buying tiny clothes that fit? It's funny because many of them seem to shop at the same few petite friendly places--J. Crew, ASOS, Ann Taylor--and have a similar aesthetic. They own Louboutins and wear what I think of as conventional grown-up clothes, blouses and pencil skirts and pumps and cocktail dresses on the weekend. It's quite different from that other fashion blog/Tumblr aesthetic, of vintage and peter pan collars and full skirts and over the knee socks and chunk platform shoes, that I know. Or maybe the divide only exists in my mind.
I have been thinking a lot about this, lately. Part of it is this preoccupation with being "grown-up," whatever that means (having a job, the morning commute, drinks after work, wearing perfume, the dry cleaner's, keeping track of money). It's wanting to be more sophisticated, fewer overly twee dresses and more of this clean, effortlessly chic look. It's tailored and polished and timeless and minimalist clothes, things that go with my Ferragamo bag and perfect tiny ring. And all the while, self conscious and terrified of becoming one of those forgettable people, with their downcast eyes and bland heavy clothes, or just as bad, the women obsessed with labels of shoes and bags, that cliched superficial fixation.
And sometimes I feel guilty for caring at all, as if being an intellectual, a feminist, an activist, different--means that I shouldn't fall into it so easily, consumerism and the terrible business of beauty and fashion (with its underage, under fed models and molesting photographers and empty brained defendants and terrible perpetration of the same disastrous problems of sexism and racism and classism). Then again, I'm complicating things. Maybe the point is that I can love literature and shoes and lipstick all at once. Maybe the point is just that I'm getting a bit tired of my style and want an update. (I should be taking pictures, I know, but my cameras seem so difficult to set up lately...just another small thing I should stop thinking about and take action towards.)
Anyway! I am waiting for some things in the mail. Here they are:
-Warby Parker Japhy glasses in matte crystal (I stepped on my old perfect pair and broken them)
-ASOS Pique Skater Dress (in navy, to wear with red lips and Ferragamos)
-ASOS Gingham Sundress (impulsive but adorably necessary)
-Ann Taylor Perfect Pointy Pumps (because really I wanted this)
Tomorrow: the many books I am reading currently, all at once.