day no. 2 of betrayal

In mid-November of last year, I received an email notifying me of a winter quarter Italian fashion class, which promised to discuss the history of (among other things) stilettos, couture fashion and correct attire for prostitutes, as well as the gendering of shopping.

My heart stopped. If you know me, it’s probable that I repeatedly told you how excited I was for winter quarter to start. It is even more probable that you became really annoyed with me.

When I got to the first lecture this past Monday, there was a tech-person fiddling with the computer. She was wearing a fitted gray, knee length skirt that flared out at the bottom, sheer black nylons, and stumpy boots (with no cool military appeal). There was also the mistake of a blazer that was either cropped or shrunken. Feel free, as I did, to make the assumption that this entire outfit was purchased at Sears. In 1995.

I took off my cape-coat (see previous post) and looked around for the instructor, expecting to see this fierce Italian woman in horn-rimmed glasses and head-to-toe Chanel. Basically, I was expecting Edna from The Incredibles.

The tech-person spoke (where there should have been an Italian accent, there was South African which, I'll admit, is still quite cool), and introduced herself as the instructor.

Oh, Irony.

I was horrified. I had been betrayed.

She turned her head, motioning toward the projector, and I saw that her hair was pulled back with a spider claw clip.

I was doubly horrified. Don’t get me wrong: I own a spider claw clip as well. I wear it to hold my hair back as I mentally vomit in response to witnessing the fashion atrocities of fashion instructors.

My fashion instructor is apparently under the impression that if she uses words like “fabulous” and “bellissimo,” she can wear hideously dated outfits.

After arriving to lecture today, I shed my military trench ($30, Forever 21), hoping The Instructor would show up in subtle couture and relieve me with a “Just kidding!”

I was given no such relief.

I know this is harsh. And I know that her attire has no correlation with her ability to teach a class (at least I hope it doesn’t; you’re not supposed to trust a thin chef, right? The same could be said of women who "loved" wearing school uniforms.(I also don’t intend to use this blog as a venue for bashing Poor Decisions Others Make When Getting Dressed, although I would totally read that. This post is obviously a necessary exception.)) With any other person, I wouldn’t have noticed. But that’s just it: I wanted her to be remarkable in the most superficial sense.

As a parting thought: VPL is never, ever a good idea. The last time I remember being this offended was when I saw a wood-paneled PT Cruiser. Some may call me anti-feminist because of this (well, this and my passion for the most impractical of shoes, etc etc), but come on: someone get this woman a thong, stat. And a cashmere cardigan.

i feel like crap...

But that's no reason to look like crap. The only reason I was able to get out of bed today was because I had an outfit of blankets (& a pillow in my bag) planned for my first day back to school and work after a 2+ week hiatus. While you and I know that a long, thermal cardigan paired with a t-shirt and leggings is the sneaky equivalent of a pair of sweats, others may not. And why would they? It looks perfectly put together. (Well, except for the flash-induced see-thru-ness of my shirt).

I'm sick of living in my knee-length bulky winter coat, so I opted for a wool cape coat, which, when layered, is pretty toasty. It's one size fits all, and I think all that extra material adds a little bit of luxury.

Because of the coat's sleeves, over-the-shoulder flat bags don't work very well. Bulky bags with shorter or rolled handles work best since you can drape them over your forearm, or just hold the handles. If that's too big, you can wear a mini cross-body purse over the cardigan but under the coat, or carry a clutch.

As far as this outfit goes, lots of shoes would work- even street sneakers (ie Asics or Sauconies). I wore boots with it today, but also included a photo with smartwool socks and ballet flats (I think they're unexpected and charming but my roomate gave this pair a thumbs-down; agree to disagree),which would make this an excellent outfit for flying, what with shoe removal and airplanes always being too cold or too hot.

It's easy to find mediocre boots. They're everywhere. Good boots that you genuinely love are hard to find, so when you do, I suggest you buy them. I've had this pair for 3 years and have all but worn them into the ground.


Headband: $18 (sale), Free People, FP
Scarf: $12 (sale), Free People, London
T-shirt: $39, J. Crew
Cardigan: $27, Splendid, Nordstrom Rack
Cape Coat: $70, Jones New York Signature, Nordstrom Rack
Boots: $170, Aldo
Metallic Flats: $10, Berlin (H&M has some that are very similar)
Bag: $300 (gift :)), Cole Haan, Cole Haan Outlet
Socks: $9, Smart wool boot, Nordstrom Rack

the beginning

I was recently skimming (re: to read novels in their entirety in a store while attempting to appear as if you have every intention of buying said novel. While you are smartly dressed and look as though you're made of moneyhoney, you're not; you are a student with a part-time, minimum wage job. You have much more important things to spend $20 on, like happy hour sushi and dirty martinis) a book on fashion and settled on a paragraph detailing how to buy ballet flats. The author suggested buying Chanel as a starting point. If I bought a pair of Chanel ballet flats, they had better be big enough for me to live in, and include utilities and internet. She also suggested buying duplicates of items that you really liked. I have a hard enough time buying one of an item I really like, let alone multiples.

My point in starting this blog is to show that you can be a college student working a minimum wage job and still put together rockin outfits; I'm going to show you how I do it.

Throughout the week, I will post photos of my outfits, citing the brand and price, as well as where I bought it. I will offer suggestions on different ways you can wear the same outfits, and how not to wear it.

This advice should be taken loosely: I don't believe in following the fashion Do's and Don't's of others; those rules should be established by you, for yourself. People have often told me that they love what I'm wearing but that they "could never pull it off." Well, with that attitude, they're right. So much of what brings an outfit together is confidence in what you're wearing. You (hopefully) know what you're comfortable in; I'm the first to advocate trying something new, but not to the point where it makes you uncomfortable: when you feel good about what you're wearing, you look good. The inverse is just as true.

My hope is that you, my one reader, will feel inspired.

...At the very least, I will have a collection of photos of my clothes, which could prove useful when I have to auction off my entire wardrobe (a la Becky Bloomwood) upon graduation, when I am unemployed and cannot feed myself.

Just kidding. Kind of.