My youngest niece recently had her ears pierced just as she was turning six months old, just like her two older sisters had. My sister claims she did it then because babies are less likely to play with their ears and infect the new wounds, er, piercings. But I also like to think that my sister decided to pierce her children so young because she witnessed what happened to me when I waited till about eight or nine to get the deed done. (WARNING: DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST WHILE EATING FOOD.)
Archive for ‘Fashion’
I don’t know how to wear a scarf. I know that scarves are supposed to epitomize effortlessness and should be easy to add to any ensemble. They’re supposed to look breezy–just draped over your shoulder, simply twisted around your neck–what could be easier?
Yet this is not the case. Just like “natural makeup” can take hours to apply and is certainly not the same thing as going “au naturale,” scarves are similarly deceptive. You have to possess serious skill in order to wear them with seeming ease.
When I try to wear a scarf, I either wrap it too tight so that it looks I’m fashioning my own noose or it’s too lackadaisical and loose that it unravels easily and loses its shape. I can’t seem to win.
Also, you can’t wear a scarf in a vacuum. When worn properly in the hipster precincts of major urban areas, it is usually paired with other accessories–long earrings, bracelets and a hairstyle as effortlessly haphazard as the scarf below it. Again, this exceeds my skill set.
I usually have patience for just one accessory per outfit–typically earrings since there is no wrong way to apply those. And you don’t have to think about wearing multiples as you would with necklaces and bracelets. You can only wear as many earrings as you have holes for them. Nowadays, that means just one pair (though in my college life, I could’ve adorned my ears with up to three pairs).
I don’t wear scarves for the same reason I didn’t participate in the tunic-no waisted dress fashion craze–I like my clothing to be structured. I don’t want to buy a dress that was barely sewn to fit my body, which will then force me to figure out which belt to pair it with. (Belts are a whole other sordid story). And I don’t want to figure out how to cover my neck with scarf. On some mornings, it’s difficult enough trying to find two socks that match. The fewer decisions I have to make about the rest of my outfit, the better.
Related Posts ¬
|Mar 30, 2012||Why you should celebrate National Cleavage Day when you’re an A cup|
|Feb 22, 2012||Accessory Fail: Pierced Ears|
I haven’t yet purchased anything for Black Friday–since most of what I want/need are electronic items and gadgets, I’ve decided to wait until Tech Monday to buy stuff.
But if I put on my Anti-Girlfriend glasses for a moment then I would buy this fabric to fashion into a miniskirt, halter top or anything else really skimpy:
From Spoonflower’s website, here’s the description of “Plate Dating”:
“You are what you eat.”, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”, “How’s about you buy me dinner and I buy you breakfast, Hotlips?”, “Bite me.” What do all of these idioms have in common? They are all proof of how much stock a man puts in his fodder. As such we introduce the only 100% accurate dating service guaranteed to lead you to Mr. Right. True love is not a matter of the heart, it is a ride down the large intestine.
Once again, I must credit Tova S., who alerted me to the existence of the cookbook, To Cook a Bachelor’s Goose and took all of those wonderful photos that I’ve featured on the site, for showing me this link and fabric.
Last night as I was searching for a pair of tights to wear out (cause sadly we’re deep into fall and tights weather), I found a most curious artifact from an earlier era–the slip.
This particular one was black like the tights I was searching for and fell to below my knee when I tried it on for old times sake. As I readied myself for an evening out, I looked through my closet, searching for an item of clothing that I could ear this slip under, but none of my skirts or dresses are long enough for a slip of that length. Cause I dress like a slut.
This futile search got me wondering–do women still wear slips under their clothing? I am going to go out on a limb here and posit that slip wearing (as an under layer, not as primary clothing–we’ve all seen women wearing a one-piece as though it was a dress) has gone out of fashion. Only our mothers and grandmothers still wear them with any regularity, both as a means of not showing off the contours of their underwear and to fight static cling.
It’s not that all of my clothing is opaque. I have often left my apartment in abject fear that the summer dress I just put on will turn see-through the moment I step into the sun. It is at those moments that I wished that I lived with a roommate so she could let me know if I was indecent or not. I have, on occasion, asked people on the street to let me know if they could see my underwear.
But not that having an extra set of eyes is always useful–I one time put this question to a guy I was sleeping with as I got ready to head out to dinner with him. “You think I’m going to tell you if I can see your lacy underwear?” he asked. Such a gentleman.
In that instance, I changed from the lacy pair he favored into this nude, satin, seamless pair, which is a strategy I frequently employ when I’m in doubt about the thickness of a dress, I put on underwear that is skin-colored.
So if the need hasn’t abated, why has slip wearing fallen out favor?
I believe the blame rests with Carrie Bradshaw and Sex and the City.
Remember how it used to be considered poor form to flash your bra strap? Not so after Ms. Bradshaw routinely made the straps a fashion accessory to her outfits. Also, it became okay to wear bras whose purpose it was to be seen through your shirt. Her dresses were as flimsy as was the plausibility of her being a sex columnist for a New York paper and living so extravagantly.
Is there anyone out there under the age of 40 who still wear slips? Am I totally wrong on this point and secretly all of my friends are shielding their underwear and panty lines from the world with a flimsy, skirt-like under layer? Am I just a big slut? Let me know in the comments.