Bedroom Shorts

Always keeping it classy, guys.

Durrrrrrrrr

Shorts, or rather, Bloomers (The Man Repeller x PJK, similar here), Vest (Old Navy - old, similar here), Shirt (Forever 21, similar here and here), Necklaces (Dogeared), Bracelets (Nadri and Madewell), Rings (miscellaneous Ariella rings)  

Sure, these billowy, barely-there bloomers could pass for lingerie, piquant with their familiarly silken trappings of sexytime, their dreamy undulations of form, their silhouette aflutter with flirtatious energy. (Too much?) But I assure you they're not. They're shorts. Perfectly suitable for out-of-the-house, public prancing and tomfoolery, much to my boyfriend's dismay.

My inherent need to flout aside, there are some places I would probably never wear these. The office for one—unless the office meant my bedroom where I could slip into these suckers, lazily sift through my emails, eating peanut butter out of the jar and wearing my favorite socks; church is another (I have precisely two occasions annually during which this predicament could present itself as something to even be considered), uhh, the grocery store is another—actually no, I would totally and happily wear these to the grocery store, much to my boyfriend's dismay—and lastly, I would probably never wear these to a funeral.

Why it took me nearly 3 months post-purchase to finally take these babies for a spin, I'll never know. Perhaps these are merely another attempt (of many) in my OH-MY-GOD-CARLEE-YOU'RE-STILL-TALKING-ABOUT-THIS?! fruitless vestiary pursuit to dress myself into thinking it's Summer. Waiting until late August to wear these, when everyone's already talking about Christmas (apparently?!) is maybe my way of ignoring the impending season, whilst cheekily (get it?) and efficiently aerating the lower half of my body, much to my boyfriend's dismay.

Or perhaps (and more likely) these underthings-turned-grocery-store-pants are simply another incarnation of my ridiculousness manifesting itself occasionally through my sartorial decisions. A vague attempt on my part to craft some kind of eccentricity through clothing, in order to distract everyone from the fact that I am in fact completely devoid of personality (to loosely quote Carrie Bradshaw, Season 2). But also, these shorts are just plain fabulous! And you should know that they also couldn't be more user-friendly. Never have I so swiftly and in one deft motion been able to don a single piece of clothing without incident or effort.

The best part is, it's just as quickly that you've put them on that you've already forgotten you're wearing them. (How liberating!) And I challenge you to find one warm-blooded soul that doesn't want to walk around outside feeling as if they aren't wearing any pants...other than maybe my boyfriend. 

Flower Power Suit

Suit Jacket and Trousers (Zara, similar here), Shirt (J.Crew - old, similar here), Shoes (Rachel Roy, similar here),

Necklaces (both Dogeared here and here),  Watch (Marc by Marc Jacobs)

Zara Summer Sale, I am at your mercy. 

Well, was...but I think I worked that out of my system. Hence the floral suit, and 37 other deeply discounted items I had been coveting over the last 3 months or so, finally purchased in an excited but highly logical frenzy. Summer Sales (I assure they warrant gratuitous capitalization) are the BEST. What's important to note, though, is that this foliage emblazoned power suit is one attempt (of many) to keep my dreams of a warm and vegetation filled Summer alive. 

My mind, my eyes, my shivering body, and my forever browsing and clicking fingers say it's Fall (thanks largely to the fact that according to the Fashion Universe Calendar, Fall started about a month ago and we're already deep into the phase of the seasonal transition where we are being beaten ceaselessly with images of tartan scarves, funnel-neck knits, folds of woolen fabric, and angry looking boots. God, I love it though..), but my heart says it's still Summer. 

I am clinging desperately to the last vestiges of the supine days of mid-year luxuriance, guys. Join me.

Less is So Much More

Top (Zara, similar here and here), Blazer (Forever 21, similar here and here), Skirt (Zara - old, similar here and here), Shoes (Zara - similar here and here), Clutch (Ted Baker - old, similar here), Rings (misc. Ariella rings here)

The man who perfected minimalist, masculine-tinged vesture for the modern woman to the point of it being obscene is the very same man who, as it would stand to reason given the former, season after season seems to effortlessly craft and build upon a vision rooted in the primordial and ineffable duo of black and white.

He does this so adeptly, that we hardly realize that black and white are by and large the only colors we are seeing. In fact, we don't even miss the the other colors in the world at that point. Are there even other colors? That's not to say that the man does not utilize a broader palette in his collections—he certainly does, and he does so quite sharply. But home for his aesthetic exists in the glorious place where black and white live together as a kind of Platonic ideal; a perfect pairing of absolute light and dark wherein lies a beauty that is so elemental, that it simply can't be denied. It is a place from which boundless possibility stems. 

I'm not embarrassed to say I'm grossed out by me right now, too.  

Anyway, all I'm saying is, Alexander Wang's sartorial point of view inspires an enthusiastic urge to minimize in even the most maximal of maximalists. Black and white together are enough to make a statement when you don't need much else, but it is Wang's tailored eye and dextrous hand that makes the pairing of black and white so much more interesting and purposeful with seemingly so much less. 

His irreducible wares, like the linearly-disposed mesh pieces of his Spring/Summer 2013 collection, incite such immediate attraction that they are followed by a tidal wave of copycat and (to put it nicely) "inspired-by" pieces from brands far and wide; most notably, Zara (as pictured here). And then suddenly the market is flooded with (certainly cheaper, but recognizable) traces of his collection.

And while nothing I'm wearing here is of Mr. Wang's namesake brand (and trust me, I don't purport it to be despite my above ramblings), there is no denying that he has, whether unwillingly or not, had a hand in not only how the pieces I'm wearing look, but also in my decision making process for compiling an outfit comprised chiefly of these "inspired-by" pieces. 

Regardless of whether or not you don Wang-inspired copycat wares, or his pricey originals, what is authentic—and more importantly, what can belong to anyone—is dressing oneself with the kind of inspired sparingness that Wang so masterfully sets forth. It is in letting his crisp aesthetic guide you that you realize that less is really so much more. 

Peachy Keen

Blouse (Madewell - old, similar here), Skirt (Zara, similar here and here), Shoes (Zara, similar here), Watch (Marc by Marc Jacobs), Necklace (Dogeared "Karma"), Rings (misc. Ariella rings)

O, happy day! The sun is shining, the air is warm, the sky is clear, there isn’t a cloud in sight...there definitely isn’t any wind violently whipping my already temperamental hair to-and-fro (emphasis on the word fro), making it even angrier, and there definitely isn’t any fog, fogging all over me, soaking me in a light blanket of mist that is just damp enough to kick my hair into Diana Ross mode and render my clothes slightly see-through and crinkled. It’s summer in San Francisco!

Is it too early in the day for that amount of bitterness to be laid before you? My ruefulness is merely melodrama. Despite the fact that I am by nature solar-powered and also always freezing, this soggy city’s schizophrenic weather patterns are at this point, simply endearing.

But one can not deny the outfit difficulties that may present themselves in the wake of such capricious weather, in a place where you’re lucky if you get 65 degrees and a partly cloudy sky out of mother nature on any given day. It can make the unfailingly taxing question of “What should I wear?” essentially impossible to answer satisfyingly.

My solution? (Or rather, coping mechanism?) Ignore it. Let the mighty calendar of the fashion gods inform your decisions; let the seasons that are actually happening somewhere guide you. Oh, it's August and it's 50 degrees out? Leave the house in shorts, I say! Without a jacket (your jacket is actually stuffed in your bag because HELLO it's freezing), in a light-as-air silk blouse, in open-toed shoes even! Greet the fog with a courteous smile and then throw your shoulders back, laugh in its face, and soldier on. Because YOU LOOK FABULOUS. And sometimes, you’ve got to make your own summer happen—sartorially, that is.

You can deal with the frostbite later...