Posts tagged ‘jeans’
Camo Bo Bamo
Trends are bullshit. You know why? Because the minute you say “I would never wear that” you find yourself coveting a similar item only a year or so later. Case in point: the camouflage print. I can attest that back in the day when items from Delia*s and Abercombie + Fitch dominated my closet there were indeed some camo pieces, but it has been over a decade since I even considered wearing it.
Until recently, the print reminded me of my not so stylish pre-pubescent days where braces were color coordinated with holidays and butterfly clips surrounded my ballerina bun. But now I find myself strangely attracted to the print and its surprising versatility. Like plaid or pinstripes, camouflage can stand as well on its own as it can when paired with equally busy prints — i.e. leopard. And so here you see me betraying my previous sentiments of hatred regarding the camo print and wearing it like it’s a necessary staple in my day-to-day wardrobe.
This not only supports my initial statement that trends are bullshit, but also that fashion is fickle. One second you’re swearing off anything snakeskin and then you’re wearing gold snakeskin pants that Snooki probably wore in the first season of Jersey Shore. Oh fashion, you trickster.
// photos by Emily Malan
Flashback or Flashforward?
I have been sitting at my computer eating multiple bowls of Raisin Bran for the past 20 minutes trying to think of something to say about this outfit. Attempts at discussing my qualms with polka dots, need for color during the dark days of winter, and that the above photo kind of looks like I’m scratching my butt have all been made; but what’s really going on here is an outfit that came together when I was running late for a runway show last week.
That instantaneous panic moment when you realize that you have hit snooze 8 times too many and have about 30 minutes to turn your bedhead self into something remotely presentable for the outside world has me running around my apartment like a chicken with her head cut off. And while this situation usually forces me to reach for the classics (white blouse, black jeans, leather jacket, et al), there was something about that morning that told me to ignore my running late dead chicken routine. So instead I honed in on the colors that were speaking to me and how they matched up with multiple pieces in my closet. Tomato reds, navy blues, and woody browns came together to produce an outfit that a preppier Sonia would have worn in college had she not thought ripped t-shirts and smudgy eyeliner the end all be all of fashion. So what say you? Too preppy magoo for me to pull off or something I should emulate more often? Tell me all your thoughts.
// Photos by Emily Malan
Let’s Talk: Sheer Blouses
I may have a deep affection for silky blouses, but tend to avoid those of the sheer variety. I loathe the idea of wearing a camisole underneath a shirt, and sometimes a visible bra can be a little too va va boobs. Of course, trying to avoid apparel for me is like trying to avoid shots of whiskey after a few drinks on a Saturday night — it’s just going to happen.
And so, here you see me wearing a shirt made of fabric so sheer you can see my belly-button without close inspection (it’s an innie, by the way). While I have covered up most of this shirt with a structured jacket (it is winter after all), I think there is definitely a time and place for your bra and bellybutton to be in full exposure. Such occasions usually go with the aforementioned Saturday night whiskey brawl, but it’s best to leave such sartorially scandalous excursions to a season that doesn’t involve icy wind chills and snow.
// photos by Emily Malan
Heart String Band
Having been chained to my bed with a feverish mucous monster for the past seven days, my recent sartorial choices haven’t been, shall I say, “blog worthy.” Leggings and an oversize t-shirt, which I change out of only if a soup stain or snot dribble occurs, doesn’t seem like the kind of outfit updates you come here to find. So, on Saturday as I made yet another venture outside the confines of my duvet and six pillow mashup for more cough medicine, I slipped into a real outfit (including a bra!) to take some style snaps.
There are certain pieces of clothing that I obsess over so relentlessly that I don’t even get the pleasure of dreaming about them. No, these pieces pull so hard at my heart strings that they keep me up at night, taunting my mind with all their beauty and outfit possibilities. Miu Miu’s cat printed Spring 2010 collection is one member of my Heart String Band, and Stella McCartney’s latest resort collection certainly plucks at the base chords, but there are some members of this band that wear down my strings to a point that I can no longer take. Just like some dreams are made to become realities, certain pieces of clothing are made to be on my body, not strumming away at some ridiculous metaphor which I think I’ve worn out at this point.
At last this brings me to these Isabel Marant jeans. The first time I saw them I literally said out loud to François, “Hello, Goooorgeous” (for those of you who have seen the movie Funny Girl, you will get that quote. For those of you who haven’t, go watch it). But alas when the time came for these printed pants to hit stores, my bank account was in no shape to buy them. For months I watched them fly off the racks; I even saw a pair on the L train one Tuesday morning and considered offering the girl wearing them all the cash in my wallet, but I only had four dollars. So I let the tormenting dream fade.
But then while I was bopping around a cute boutique in San Francisco a few weeks ago, the owner and I got to talking about our shared love for Isabel Marant. It was then that I opened myself up to vulnerability and relayed this jean dream to her, praying she’d understand my pain and would at least empathize with me. But she did better than empathize; she presented me with a solution. She told me to call up Barneys all across the US asking if they had the jeans in my size. I gave the owner a giant hug and ran home to call every Barneys imaginable. And with just a bit of fashion fever luck I was able to track down a pair (on mega sale no less!) and have them shipped to my very own Brooklyn doorstep.
So you see, while my sinus headache may be keeping me up at night, I can rest assured knowing that the pair of jeans I was convinced I’d never own are now a member of my denim family.
//photos by Emily Malan
It’s Not What You Wear
If you had asked me a few years ago if I would ever wear gold snakeskin pants, I would have laughed in your face. For a Lil Kim costume, why not? For everyday Sonia wear? No ma’am.
I believe that much of this hesitance was due to sartorial ignorance. While I’ve always been experimental with styles and pieces, I was often repelled by certain apparel stigmas. As far as I was concerned, bodycon dresses were reserved for the likes of Paris Hilton, polo shirts were for prepsters (which I would never be), and denim-on-denim was forever a no.
If you’re an active follower of my blog, you’ll know that I’ve gotten over all of the aforementioned “stigmas” and embraced each look with an open mind, proving to myself that it really isn’t about what you wear but how you wear it (preach!). So, when I received these gold snakeskin pants, there was a mere half-second where I thought “oh, hell no“. But the doubts were crushed by giant dinosaur feet as my style imagination started creating multiple looks with these Lil Kim stunners.
Almost all the looks I cooked up include more conservative pieces on the top (blazers, button downs, sweaters, etc), but the fun with my disco-worthy pants has only just begun. Gold on gold on gold? Why the heck not?!
// photos by Anna Kelman