inVESTment

During a July thrift thrip, I found this linen vest with the dry cleaning ticket still attached.

The piece interested me because I had been reading up on fashion history in the 1940's.  I learned that during the war years cloth of all types was rationed.  Women took to refashioning their husband's old wool suits into clothing for themselves.

To my eye, this looked like a double breasted blazer with the sleeves cut off.  A glimpse at the lining reveals that it is probably made this way originally.  But, how was it worn?  Over a dress?  With slacks?

I couldn't think what to do with it.  Below, you'll see a couple of my end of summer experiments with it.

I tried it with a couple of pair of linen shorts and various tops.  The neckline on the vest is too plunging to do without a top.

Ghosts?

I live in a house that for forty years operated as a funeral home.  There hasn't been a dead body in the house since the mid-80s, although my husband and some of our children believe they've had encounters with "friendly ghosts."  I've lived here 14 years and have yet to meet one.

It is more likely that the ghost, creepy footsteps, wisps of perfune, is actually ME, suffering through yet another night of insomnia.  I like to sleep in my skin...but if I have to get up (and I frequently do), I'll slip on one of my fine cotton nightgowns.  I've found three of these in area thrift stores in recent years, all brand new. 

I insist on a high thread count and the snowiest white.   And while on daytime clothing, I am often impatient with what I call "tacked on detail," in nightwear, I find I'm fond of it.

And if you should drive by the house at 3 or 4 a.m., that ghost you are seeing is ME, pacing behind the windows.

Juicy 3 or Girl with Pineapples.

It's time to shop new eye-glasses--a pair WITHOUT the sun tint in them. I haven't managed to hang on to a pair of sun-glasses in years, because mine are frequently sacrificed to a grand-child...because of the tint built into my glasses.


My husband on the other hand own 18 pair of sun-glasses in various yellow tints.   I added these to his collection to make a point.

Juicy 2 or Girl with Cantaloup

This coral/melon color is more bold than my usual daily wear.  I put the shirt on to "stage" it with the fruit and then simply felt so good that I wore it all day long.

Was it my imagination or did people seem friendlier to me when I wear this color?  Was it my imagination or is the blog working?  I can't make the aging go away, but I can refuse to be invisible! 

I wore a similar color on the first day of classes...and received so many compliments that I started keeping a mental tally.

Juicy

I saw this melon from our vehicle and we had to turn around and go back to snap this photo.  This melon weighs MORE than I do!  We didn't buy it ($25.), but we did snap up a muskmelon/cantaloup that has lasted us the week.  The setting didn't make my "outfit" pop, but some of the most beautiful things in creation aren't the result of human effort!

Below, the full ensemble.  This is typical weekend garb in my neck of the woods.

A Stack of Skirts

At Style Rookie recently, Tavi did an outfit post featuring a number of wispy layers a la Rodarte.  She gave me an idea.   In the attached picture, I am wearing 8 layers.  The bottom layer would be a sheer black belly dancing skirt.  The next two layers would be a "Magic 'Las Vegas' wrap skirt.  The third layers would be the plaid Tommy Hilfiger skirt in a previous post, followed by the navy L. L. Bean.  Then, the Banana Republic grey skirt followed by an Anne Taylor flowered skirt.  Finally, the Izaak Mizrahi topped with the Banana Republic mustard yellow skirt. 

I had a "can can" petticoat I thought about topping it all off with, but by then my waist was so thick I decided against it.  The result looks slightly east Indian with the addition of a scarf.

Don't misunderstand.  I would never wear this ensemble out in public, BUT I do think of wearing skirts and flip-flops as a form of solidarity with poor women world-wide.

Dog Days & The Yellow Wallpaper.

Our master bedroom is due for a remodeling this coming winter.  We tore out all sorts of old cabinet work and then discovered layers of various wallpapers underneath.  The yellow layer reminded me of a well known short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.  In the story, a 19th century woman is confined to an old nursery room while she recovers from childbirth.  Gradually, the pattern she sees in the wallpaper drives her insane.  A first wave feminist classic.

Skirt by Anne Taylor
Knit top by Banana Republic
Shoes by American Apparel

All thrifted.

Dog Days: Seersucker

This has been my favorite of all the skirts, but sadly after two years, I've decided to place it and the shell I wear with it in the discard pile.  I no longer like the cut of the Izaak Mizrahi for Target skirt, though the seersucker wears well.  The shell is basically a rag by now.  Two years ago, EVERYthing in this girl's wardrobe was some shade of grey.  Great for maximizing one's wardrobe, but also great for making sure I always looked like some Puritan erasure.

Dog Days: Navy Wishbone

The skirt is L. L. Bean (thrifted; navy tee (thrifted). Wishbone salvaged from a Coturnix quail, my husband's winter hobby.

Dog Days: Madras Plaid

I searched for this plaid skirt and found it.  I have a dim memory of a favorite piece of a childhood wardrove in madras.  I found the basket beads in the local Salvation Army and strung two strands of them on hemp twine.

Dog Days: Bee's Knees

This isn't quite as scary as it looks.  My husband and I have kept bees for 12 years and know the skills needed to "work" them.  Only when we are removing a "super" (a box full of honey) do we ever put on the full regalia and smoke the little critters.  Of course, they're mad when you take their summer's work.  When I think of the many miles of flying and the numbers of bees that go into a teaspoon of honey, I appreciate ever teaspoon.

Even when they are swarming, bees are benign.  Before they swarm, they fill their little bellies with honey, which makes it difficult for them to bend to sting a person.  Unless you damage their queen, they'll leave you alone.

Here, I trusted that at near noon on a hot, muggy August day, they had better things to do than worry about my naked legs.   Yellow linen skirt by Banana Republic (thrifted) and grey tissue tee (thrifted).

Dog Days: Gray & Orange

Grey Skirt by Banana Republic, thrifted (2 years ago)

Orange Shell by J.A.C., thrifted

Dog Days: Stripes

I haven't actually worn this outfit much this summer. In fact, I've been wearing the dress with the grey blazer you see in the Beatiful post.  I have a tendency to re-wear the same combinations of clothes over and over.

striped dress by New York Laundry, thrifted; shoes by City Sneaks, thrifted.

I fall asleep now doing outfit combinations in my brain.  Some nights when things are really clicking, I have to get out of bed and write the ideas down.  I noticed as I began to snap photos that there was a coffee stain on the dress--artfully disguised by my poses. 

My blog got started so late this summer that I'm running out of time to post my summer looks.  I teach college for a living, mostly online in the summers.  I could literally get away with teaching naked, but Chictopia has inspired me.  I've been wearing skirts and dresses most of the summer--at home! for no one but my husband!  He's known something has been up for several months, but yesterday he "discovered" me having a lengthy photo shoot on our deck.  I felt a little sheepish, but HE seemed delighted.  Now, if I can just convince him to do a few shoots on location in our little town.

The vest has such a lovely lining, I pondered the possibilities of wearing it inside out.  What do you think?                         

Mickey Mouse

 I have a lot to learn about styling and about photography.  I noticed in my first two postings at Chictopia that I gravitate toward subtle and neutral colors.  But, when I'm browsing the new postings or the galley, it's the bright, bold looks I tend to check as "chic."

This polka dot blouse is a look I might wear, though typically with long black trousers.  Chictopia has been good in inspiring me to think outside the box--here, the blouse appears with linen shorts and my black, but wool blazer.  I LIKE the combo, but doubt that I would wear it out of the house because it violates ingrained "rules" about when to wear linen and when to wear wool.

I notice that the collar of the blouse is inside the jacket--aaargh!  And, I wished I tried a shot with the blazer sleeves rolled or pushed up.  That's another of my "rules" that will be hard to break.  I wear my blazers a lot and worry about the damage doing this to sleeves might cause.


All of the items in these photos are thrifted.

The blouse is a Liz Claiborne petite.

The blazer sports a Rafaella tag.

And the shorts are Bill Blass.

The shoes are Nine West.  I'll get a lot of mileage out of these this teaching year.
















I like blazers with their lapels covered with buttons, but for now Mickey will have to do.  :)

Fashion Memories: Going Topless

Somewhere in the family photo archives, there exists a black and white photo of my sister and I playing in a park water fountain.  Neither of us has on a top.  We are 4 and 5.  It seems to me that it was around this age that the folks tried to make the impression that it wasn't appropriate for little girls to go topless.  This new guideline confuses me.  I am surrounded by little boys and grown men without shirts?  A shirt requires special care when drinking from park water fountains.

The body began to change around age 9.  One summer, even with a shirt, the flat buttons of my nipples began to itch--insanely.  I assumed I'd picked up a chigger or a mosquito bite and covered both of them with a flesh-colored bandaid.

Of course, a bandage couldn't stop the changes that were about to transpire.  When I try to explain this to males of the species, many don't believe that a little girl could be innocent of her changes.  Because they are intensely interested, they presume that little girls must know what is going on.  The boys kept track of which little girls wore a training bra, as well as which little girls may have actually needed one.  I had one--basically a band of elastic--by age 10, though I didn't always wear it.  The itch had gone away. 

By middle school I probably wore a bra daily.  In high school, as a cheerleader it likely provided necessary support to my 36Cs.  There were days "the girls" felt painfully larger than that;  my sense of living in a strange body persisted.  I learned to sleep on my tummy with my arms doubled up beneath me--a habit that has kept my upper arms toned for decades.

By my early 20's, the wearing of the bra was firmly established, underwires and all.  In the early 70's, after the bra-burning of the second wave feminists, there was support for forgoing bras.  With or without my bra, the large size of my breasts drew unwanted attention.  Ironically, I could not be pried out of the thing.

I wouldn't grow completely comfortable with my breasts until my babies were born.  Saleswomen in maternity shops would try to sell me expensive nursing bras, emphasizing how breast feeding would ruin my breasts?  Yet, nothing felt more natural and right.  My large breasts shrank a bit after--to their current, comfortable size.

There it is--a history of a body part.  The curious thing now is that aging feels as strange to me now as puberty did.

the best stuff is sometimes in the comments.

Optical Illusions

There are outfits I love that simply don't photograph very well.  Often on Chictopia or Weardrobe, a skinny stripe or checks will come up as a mish-mash pattern to my eye.  And until I enlarge it, I wonder what I'm seeing. 

I found this blue gingham in a thrift store last spring and grabbed it.  It's not a usual pattern for me, but I liked the nubby silk and the simple lines of the dress.  Here, I've paired it with a beige belt and beige American Apparel platform sandals--all thrifted.

I most like it with this boiled wool sweater, with pearl buttons.  Simple, comfortable, sophisticated.

Apple Green

And the results of my first manicure by Berry4Ever

How to paint your nails for dummies Frankly Scarlet

Symphony in the Hills

Our second concert of the summer was the Kansas City Symphony in the Flint Hills.  For those who don't know, the Flint Hills are rolling hills of tall grass prairies in east central Kansas.  In the spring time, these prairies are set fire to renew the grasses for the cattle that roam nearly fenceless.  It is dramatic landscape and a curious setting for a symphony concert.

This year when the tickets went on sale, I camped out with my telephone and my internet from the moment the ticket office opened and within 30 minutes, we had our tickets!  Lyle Lovett is a friend of the owner of the Bluestem Cattle Company, the private ranch where the concert was held this year.  He volunteered to perform with the symphony this year (his back up band is traveling with the Troubadour Reunion Tour).

This was to be my birthday present this year, but the morning of the concert dawned with heavily overcast skies.  In fact, when we left home it was pouring rain.  We drove 90 miles west and hoped the skies would clear.  I had to go dressed for nearly any eventuality.

Here's what we found:

Cowboys patrolling the wildflowers and protecting them from the crowd of 5,000+

A covered wagon in the distance

A covered wagon up close

Inside the covered wagon.  Pulled by a pair of horses, it was brought home to me how jarring traveling several hundred miles across country in such a wagon could be to one's bones

And beautiful blue sky

As the afternoon progressed, we staked out a spot on the hillside, by spreading a patchwork quilt up against a hay bale.  Then, we wandered the stations of fine art, regional poets, and barbecue.  We people watched.  Some of the people were "Friends of the Symphony" and came dressed to the hilt.  Others came dressed for the humidity.

I was glad I was wearing my cowboy boots--as the ground was wet and pungent when we arrived and grew dusty as some many feet beat a path.

I

I wore a white tee, a Banana Republic chambray shirt cut in a smock style, and those men's Wranglers again.  Layers.

I had to take these photos after the fact as my digital died and I was left to make do with a disposable.  DH likes this one:

Frankly, I was feeling a little windblown and sweaty and my feet hurt by late afternoon.  The skies were beginning to cloud up again--adding an element of suspense.  Would the concert go on?

A hole opened in the clouds over the concert shell.  Cowboys began to appear on the horizon in the distance, and as the first strains of Aaron Copeland began, it seemed that both the clouds and the cattle were choreographed.

Incredibly, as we walked to our vehicle AFTER the concert , we could see lightning in the far distance.