Luggage packing

I always overpack when I travel. Not that I bring suitcases of stuff (nowadays, just the carry-on), but I always end up with items that never get worn once. So this time, when I went to visit family, I brought just a couple thin, holey undershirts (I really should replace them, but they're so comfortable and still functional) both in long and short sleeve, a patterned tunic, cropped yoga pants, a vintage plaid shirt, and the outfit I was going to wear on the plane. As it turned out, I still didn't wear everything I brought, but only because I underpacked. It was so warm in Texas. I needed to bring a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve shirt that could be worn on its own. Argh!

M's stuff took up more room. She doesn't mind being too warm, but she hates being too cold. So I brought some fleece onesies and zip-ups. She as well didn't wear everything I brought, but that was because I was desperately trying to get some use out of the many temperate-weather hand-me-down clothes she was given on this trip. Back at home, these things won't be worn much, if at all.

So still trying to figure out the perfect formula for suitcase packing. Not too much, not too little.

Childish things

A few years ago I knew that the time was nearing when certain items had to be put on the shelf, when by virtue of my age they would tip over the line from cute to undercooked. But instead of sobering up my wardrobe and becoming more strict with my purchases, I decided to just buy whatever was my heart's desire. I didn't choose for longevity--in fact, I knew much of what I was buying had a half-life of maybe a handful of years. But I wanted to wear those silly garments for while I still could.

Now, I wouldn't want to tell any woman that they can't wear something because they're too old. But for my own personal sense of things, I feel some items are the province of the young, and one thing I've learned is not to play a younger woman's game.

And suddenly, after the long haul of pregnancy, when the fact of your physicality becomes front and center and forces you out into the world of people (who, for the most part are curious and kind, though some are simply obnoxious and nosy), I find that my perspective on clothes and the body and looks has changed. I don't know if it's from becoming a mother, but I do know I have gone through the experience changed. Among other things, I no longer have any desire to put on the same clothes. Actually, I'm perfectly sick of my former style, at least on myself. I have a desire to cultivate what I keep thinking of as, somewhat oxymoronically, a hyper-quiet aesthetic. No more frills or furbelows or cutesy flourishes.

I'm always suspicious of these sorts of changes, and how deep they really go with me. But I'm thinking this isn't just a momentary aversion. Because as I was doing my usual internet hop-skipping, I ended up watching this video of Anna Karina on YouTube performing "Roller Girl." Style.com called it a "revelation." But I found it flat-out grotesque. The archly sexual cutesiness, the performing to the camera, the fact of a grown woman branding this particular form of female sexuality just kind of turned my stomach.

I half worry that this is just frumpiness creeping in in disguise, but I don't know, and I'm not sure I care if it is. Priorities change, you know? So when I cleaned out my desktop folder, these are some of the images that I discarded. The first one from Rachel Comey is nice, actually, especially the jacket, but the styling is something I wouldn't do anymore.

Method and madness

I have to admit that much of my shopping is fueled by emotion, and when I add insomnia to the mix, the result is far from a French Method, but rather more akin to madness.

So today I have confessions to make.

Confession 1:

In a fit of irrationality, I ordered the Rachel Comey Flippant dress and Blithe tee a few weeks ago. What was I thinking? The dress fit absurdly on me, and I realized how silly it was to try to predict what I might want or be able to wear a year from now. The Blithe tee was actually rather nice, but the sheer part went too low for my clumsy self. I knew before they came that they wouldn't work, but I stubbornly refused to cancel the order. I guess I wasn't yet willing to accept certain realities. Too much madness, not enough method.

Confession 2:
I once found a pair of Salvatore Ferragamo Varinas, in my size and barely worn, for a few dollars at a local thrift store and put it back. It wasn't really my style, and I was determined not to stray from my List, but now I think that a classic piece like that would have been supremely elegant. It would have added some refinement to my wardrobe. At this moment, I could have used less method and more madness.

Confession 3:
I couldn't sleep last night. It was a mistake to eat two waffles, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a slice of lasagna an hour before going to bed. So I stayed up surfing as I tried to work out the attack of indigestion. With the sales going on, I came upon a few things. Eep.

Three basics from A.P.C. and a pair of Loeffler Randall Matilde boots in cuoio. Here, I hope I have achieved a balance between method and madness. Instead of the silk button down I had earlier put on my Shopping List, I think the cotton blouses are more trans-seasonal and suitable for my life. The cardigan should come in handy as a layering piece for the winter, when I live in warm sweaters. The boots I had coveted idly for many years and should work well as a transitional shoe this fall. I'll see when they arrive in the next week or so.

[pics: la garconne, creatures of comfort, stuart & wright, bloomingdales]

Some guidelines for pregnancy style, as illustrated by Nicole Richie

I'm not particularly into her normal everyday style, but she makes the most of her laidback California style when she's pregnant. I figure since I'll be at my biggest during the summer, she'll provide practical inspiration. 

Wear what you normally wear 

Of course, some styles just aren't going to work during this time (like the sweet vintage look of tops tucked into high-waisted shorts), but there's usually some facet of your normal style that could carry over. For me, the bohemian, granola look would work. I think with so many changes going on, it's important not to abandon everything familiar. I'd like to look into the mirror and still recognize myself.

Avoid the empire waist
She wears a lot of these loose Indian dresses that skim the body and accommodate a growing waistline, but aren't absurdly voluminous because of the light cotton fabric. I think these dresses are so much better than the maternity dresses I've looked at online, which seem to work only to showcase the belly. I'm not against an empire waist or two, but in general, a nipped-in empire waist silhouette tends to look slightly infantilizing and off-balance. They also remind me of my black Molly fish when she was pregnant, but that's just me.

To avoid frumpiness, I think it's best to drop the hemline while exposing the shoulders and clavicles.

Judicious exposure
I used to work at a bagel shop in the summers in Texas, and there was a girl there who just wore increasingly large tee shirts during her pregnancy. No one says that you have to be stylish when you might be feeling miserable and gravid, but she did look rather sloppy, whether or not she cared. And after some experimentation, I've decided that while looking visibly pregnant at this point might be useful in some situations, like when trying to navigate a crosswalk (my biggest pet peeve in this town is how no one slows down for pedestrians. Seattle was so much more pedestrian-friendly, even being 20 Xs larger, according to the latest census), I've never dressed much for attention and I'd rather not start now.

Of course, at some point, it can't be helped. But I find that with exposed arms, shoulders, or legs--body parts that tend to remain their normal size during pregnancy--a pregnant body can still look balanced. They provide a nice counterpoint to all that extra fabric around the middle.

Don't buy maternity clothes
I notice that if I wear designated maternity clothes, I look so much more pregnant than if I just wear my normal clothes. I also find those black elastic panels rather depressing to look at, so I avoid them if at all possible. I may have to resort to them when I'm late in the third trimester, but for now, I just size up several sizes.

Luckily, I've been able to dig around in my closet for my oversized clothing. Buying clothing targeted to a late twenties to middle-aged demographic also seems to work, since these tend to be cut generously with certain trouble spots that coincide with pregnancy (thighs, stomach) in mind. Anthropologie is a good source, as is Flax. I'm thinking Ann Taylor Loft and Chico's would be good for mall brands, but since I don't shop there normally, I haven't checked them out.

I'm against buying a whole new wardrobe for just a few months (as Thoreau says, "beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes"), but for some pieces I've found it necessary, in which case I go to the cheapest source possible.  I recently bought a pair of size 8 shorts from Old Navy, which I wear with a belt instead of resorting to the black panel. For when I do need a panel, I think I might just use my short jersey miniskirt from American Apparel, folded in half, as a DIY alternative to the belly bands. Unlike the linen pieces I bought recently, I'll probably not be wearing these shorts again post-pregnancy. But who knows?

In the above pic, Nicole is wearing normal clothes from Urban Outfitters (left) and Rick Owens (right). I'm not too sure about wearing designer clothes like that unless you're a Vogue editor or minor celebrity who is willing to retire them after a few months of wear, when they get stretched out. But the RO dress does illustrate the way that bias cut fabric can work just as well as an empire waist to accommodate your shape, and with a much more chic silhouette.

Rules at a glance
Okay, so I'm really just posting this pic because I adore the dress, which looks cool, easy, and colorful, and something I'd wear regardless of my pregnant state. I've asked my friend to see if she can find one of these type dresses when she goes to India to visit family this winter. It'll be too late to be useful, but it would be nice in upcoming summers. Vintage dresses like these go for around $100 on eBay nowadays, which goes against all my thrifting ethic.

A list

I'm going to give list-making another go. I had been making them, but not really following them. But after yet another round of closet cleaning, I might just be ready to streamline.

So far, on my list, I have three things:
-- structured jacket, probably in black. For now I'll make do with my black blazer, but I'd really love to get the jacket like Isabel Marant's Elali jacket I've been lemming admiring on other bloggers.
-- silk button down, preferably in a brown or cream, but maybe in black. I'm realizing my favorite tops are button-downs with a silky hand. I don't actually have one in silk, though, so I'd like to get one.
-- stripe top? I have a lot of t-shirts, so I know I gravitate towards easy dressing. I think striped t-shirts seem a bit more polished and interesting, while still retaining a casual feel. I love my Rachel Comey striped boatneck top, but I'd like a version that was a bit looser in the body.

And there are a few spaces in there for any finds I come across in thrifiting.

This is my fall/winter list, which is really the season I need to be preparing for. I have enough summer clothes. In past few weeks, I've finished getting everything I need and want for the summer, including the linen pieces that will hopefully take me through the rest of the pregnancy, a chambray top from Lover with enough pleating to accommodate a growing belly, and a chambray skirt from See by Chloe to replace the almost perfect versions I have currently hanging in my closet. It's so hard for me to resist buying clothes for the summer, though, because warm weather and sunshine makes me happy, and it gives me pleasure to anticipate it.

Other than that, I think I'm set and anything else I acquire will be excess. Which isn't to say I will succeed in abstaining, especially when the sales come around. (Really, to do this properly, I'm thinking I need to break my habit of sales.) But I'll put up the list just so that I'll have some line I'm trying to hold.

P.S. Blogger hasn't been emailing me notification of any comments, so my apologies for not responding to some of them earlier. Of course, I read every one of them!

Favorites

I pulled out my Moleskin last night and made a list. One is of what I would like to get, which is for the most part on hold until the transformation of my body works itself out. I think this enforced holding pattern is good, though, because it forces me to really consider my purchases.

The other list I wrote is of my current favorite items of clothing.

From left:
1. Rose-print sundress. Free People. I bought it years ago because I adored the print, even though the only one left was two sizes larger than my usual. Surprisingly, I prefer it for its looseness.

2. Wayfarer dress. Rachel Comey. My first tiny splurge on what would become my favorite designer. It doesn't look like much, but the little details make it special.

3. Striped t-shirt dress. APC. Again, a few sizes too big, but affording the perfect slouch. I feel completely at ease in this dress. The drape of the cotton keeps it from being too boxy.

4. Navy woven shirtdress with maroon buttons. Vintage. It's completely demure, but for that reason it works. A classic.

5. Knit cardigan. Vintage ("Handknit by Sis Lee"). The shoulders create a subtle cocooning. I didn't think I would like this as much as I do, but the color goes with a lot of my things.

6. Patterned brown button-down. Vintage. The ruffles and the shimmer of the pattern are unobtrusively feminine. I wear this with the sleeves rolled up whenever I want to be a little formal but still comfortable.

7.  Flowery blue button-down. Vintage, handmade. It's slightly sheer, cool, and crisp.

8. Plaid button-down. Vintage, handmade. This seems to me like the perfect vintage plaid.

9. Striped boatneck top. Rachel Comey. Another unexpected favorite. I had added it to my order just to get free shipping. One of the few fitted things I like.

10. Chambray skirt. Vintage. I love white tees and chambray skirts in the summer.

11. Accessories. Heart tote, Anthropologie. Denim bag, Paul & Joe Sister. Polka-dot scarf, J. Crew.

Generally, I haven't posted my actual clothes before because they just don't have the snap and cool-factor that I see in so many other blogs. In fact, looking at this collection of my favorites, I can see why a student once told me that my style was "granola chic." Sigh. I'd still rather approximate the clean and sharp look that I see elsewhere, but this is my skin, I suppose, and I feel most comfortable in this style. They reflect the layers of my history. There's the thread of hippie-ness from my years in Austin, the grunge of the 90s, my love of vintage and thrift, the warm climes I'm used to, and the oversized clothes I got used to wearing when even the smallest sizes hung off me (definitely not the case anymore!).

The other thing the list made me realize was that I collect an excess of clothes when I can't get just the right thing. Shoes, skirts, and jeans make up the bulk of my wardrobe, but few of those things show up on a list of favorites. So now I can see why it's important to find the exactly perfect item. It saves you from going through endless versions in search of it.

Wardrobe for a different self

I have a pair of Chie Mihara high heels that I bought from Anthropologie that I can't bear to return, even though I haven't worn them yet and don't actually see myself wearing them.  It's like I'm saving them for a future self, or an alternate self that hasn't come into existence yet.  And maybe never will.

I like keeping some things for that reason.  I know, too much of this would result in an impractical wardrobe with little use in my real life.  So I know to avoid most of the accoutrements of the A. Wang, goth-y, downtown girl look that has pervaded fashion and blogs for some time.  While I think the attitude and the clothes are infinitely cool, I know that that girl is something I will never be, so I know not to try to approximate (in fashion lingo, I can't "pull it off").

But I think a little bit, just a dose, of that imaginative possibility taps into the self-inventing part of fashion that appeals to me so much.  Like maybe, this silvery-pink pair of strappy high heels will call into existence the girl I'd like to be.  Or a signature lipstick would help snap me into focus.  Or something like that.*


* (Though again, I have to qualify that and wonder how much of it is the Machine at work.  How much of this difference between real self and idealized self is the production of magazines, and models, and editors, and the whole industry saying that this is what you should be and look like, and here, let me sell you something that would help get you there.)

Three Thoughts

I think it's important to know your own body if you're going to find a minimal wardrobe that fits your personal style.  Those essentials lists that periodically show up--usually with a white button down and black dress at the top of the list--are as misleading and dogmatic as trend predictions are.

When I saw these pics from the Venetia Scott for Margaret Howell F/W 10 collection, I immediately admired the model's sleek equestrian beauty.  I suddenly wanted some demure plaid skirts and drapey button downs for my own closet.  But then I remembered that below-the-knee skirts never work on me.  Or at least, they do not have the same cool, graceful effect as they do on this tall, whippet-thin, doe-eyed girl.

My third thought was that when I see someone who seems to know exactly what works on her body, temperament, and lifestyle--as this look projects--the total effect is mesmerizing.

Elegance is refusal

I think there are some things that older women are able to pull off better than young girls.  Things like high heels, makeup, and structured clothes, a woman of a certain age can carry off more gracefully than her younger counterparts.  Anything to do with a heightened artifice, really, looks better once a woman has been in her own skin for awhile.

Lately I have felt the urge to refocus my own personal style, to refine it by stripping away youthful furbelows and paring it down to achieve some kind of womanly elegance.  As Coco Chanel said, "elegance is refusal."

Sofia Coppola captures that sense of elegant, unpretentious, self-aware style that I think an older woman can really own.  She has a kind of gamine style, but without the tweeness.

Her Essentials:
- an array of little black dresses
- striped tops
- black ballet flats
- exquisite handbags and shoes
- a subdued color palette, with occasional small prints
- everything well-fitted but not tight
- unconventional erogenous zones, like the back or collar bone, but not décolleté
- shiny, washed, and simple hair

Personal style and work

My mind is turning towards building a more complete and easy work wardrobe.  Most days, it takes 1 1/2 outfit attempts before I'm satisfied.  By 1/2, I mean that I undo half my outfit before leaving in the mornings.  But I think the problem is that I've started with my own personal style as a base, and halfway incorporated more polished, work-appropriate looks.  I think I'll find it easier if I start with the corporate standard (blazers, wool pants, button-downs, etc.) and then tweak it to reflect my own style.

I'll start that project later.  For now, I've been purging my closet slowly of things that don't feel like me.  I also made a circuit of returns this weekend at J. Crew and Anthropologie.

I actually haven't been buying too many things lately.  Not been in the shopping mood.  The holiday season makes me dread shopping, actually, with the crowds and the traffic

Granny shoes

I like granny shoes. What can I say. I like the orthopedic wedges, the go-with-everything tan color, the nerdy-cute look. So when I saw these for sale on Etsy, I sprung, even though I hate to buy things that I think I could find myself in the thrift store. The problem is, I never do.

I picture these with my blue corduroys, hems dragging in the interminable Seattle rain.

Street style

I was walking by the (locally) famous Jimi Hendrix statue in Seattle today when a woman stopped me to ask if she could take my picture for her street style blog.  I declined, citing "camera shy" issues, but I was flattered, and she was very gracious. She gave me her card so I could check out her blog.  Here's her website: It's My Darlin.  Cute little morsel of local streetstyle, fashion and food.

I walked home glancing at my reflection in shop windows, trying to figure out why she stopped me.  Although it's not the first time I've been stopped for a street style picture, it still amazes me.  You have to understand, I was clueless about clothes for most of my life.  It was only in my 20's that I decided that I needed to overhaul my style, which heretofore had comprised of overalls and t-shirts.  When I asked my best friend for advice, she directed me to Lucky magazine, the "magazine about shopping."  One subscription and a Lucky book later, I felt like I had a better idea of how to put myself together.

Since then, I think I've branched out and discovered my own personal style, which, ironically enough, takes me halfway back to my overall days.  So on the day that the photographer stopped me, I was wearing a fuzzy wool hat, plaid jacket, grey skirt with a bowtie, and granny shoes.  It's like how I might have dressed before the whole fashion thing happened, but with a better sense of why.