Candy Corn

Dress (Plenty by Tracy Reese via Anthropologie - so old, similar here, here, and here), Blazer (Forever 21, similar here), Shoes (Zara - old, similar here, and here), Necklace (Dogeared)

Ages ago, back when I was a certified Anthroholic, daily I would pour over the Anthropologie website with a kind of diligence and devotion found mostly only in crazies—Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory status. I would chuckle to myself as I read the names of their cleverly-titled wares, with their obscure Art Historical and cultural references, and their expanded color palette (e.g. "Marpesia Kimono Blouse" and "Cerulean Dream Dress"). The fittingness of these names was undeniable (if you understood the references), but at times the copy could get exhausting—SOMETIMES YOU JUST WANNA SHOP WITHOUT A HISTORY LESSON—and slightly full of itself. Not to mention, no one would ever look at your blouse and be like, "Mmm that shirt...it's so fabulous...it's sooo...ancient-Greek-Mythological-co-ruling-sister-Queen-of-the-Amazon!" "I know, right?!" Whatever.

Anyway, this dress was appropriately named "The Candy Corn Shift," and the funny thing is, every time I wear it—and I mean every time—at least one person who is not my sister says to me (unprompted), "You look like candy corn!" which I always take as a compliment, rightly or wrongly. And I smile, because that random copywriter intern working for Anthro's website 4 years ago decided to call this dress what she did for whatever reason, and people everywhere, ever since then, seem to agree with her decision. I just find that kind of amusing. It's a stupid story, but it's the story of this dress, so there you have it.

C.R.E.A.M.

Gurrrl, lemme tell you...

Don't make a habit of crossing the street with your eyes closed.

T-Shirt (Urban Outfitters, you're welcome), Pants (Free People - old, similar here), Shoes (Zara, similar here), Watch (Marc by Marc Jacobs), Necklace (Dogeared), Bracelets (Madewell and Asos - old, similar here and here) 

Cash (really does) rule everything around me, guys. The mantra still holds true, even off of the streets of Staten Island, and in the manicured meeting rooms and mansions of Silicon Valley and San Francisco (especially if you let it...which I do). But we're not here to talk about real estate trends or per capita income statistics. We're here to talk about t-shirts.

My sister will tell you that I am slowly, but surely, trying to take over the world one cheeky t-shirt at a time, but I see my t-shirt domination as slightly more localized than that. I'd rather just rule the room I'm in, or the sidewalk I'm on. Nothing major.

My obsession with t-shirts has grown steadily over the last couple years, as designers have begun to incorporate the tried-and-true basic more and more into their collections in new and exciting ways, and as bloggers and street style stars have begun to creatively posit the t-shirt more and more as an outfit focal point.

This is all great. But you have to remember you can't just wear these guys willy nilly. Their simplicity requires that there be some forethought, some personal meaning and contextual consideration behind your t-shirt decision. (Yes, I just said that.) With the bazillions of random and more often than not annoying t-shirts that are out there now, it's easy to throw one on because you think it "looks cool" or "sounds cool" and end up looking like a douchebag (if I see one more "Keep Calm and something something" or "Frankie Says some bullshit" t-shirt on one more self-important, clueless teenager, I'm going to scrape my eyeballs out with my fingernails...and what I mean by that is really I'll probably just brood and stew silently beside them and throw shade so hard my face will hurt). So choose your t-shirt wisely and deliberately and probably don't buy it if you don't know who Eazy-E is.

So let's talk about this awesome t-shirt. My romance with rap is a (relatively speaking) longstanding one—trust me, I do not even try to pretend like this makes me any less of a princess from the 'burbs because it does not—and at the top of my list of lovers is The Wu-Tang Clan, with "C.R.E.A.M." sitting resolutely atop my list of all-time favorite tracks, ever. So when I saw this shirt, the desire that rushed through me was so immediate and all-consuming that I had made the purchase before my mind even had a chance to catch up with my hands. And despite the fact that the sight of this shirt on a Disney cartoon look-alike in 5-inch heels, with Shirley Temple hair and chicken arms probably makes most people laugh or think that I'm wearing it ironically or maybe also makes them feel sorry for me, I find myself unable to muster up the energy to care. They don't get it and they don't have to. Because I'm kicking their ass in the secret sidewalk t-shirt battle they don't know we're having anyway.

Photos © Rose Garrett