At a certain point in my personal style evolution, I felt like I understood clothing. Shapes, colors, materials, combinations of pieces that worked for my style and my figure were all in my mental bank. I had long since mastered shoes, had finally landed on a hairstyle that really suited me, and still didn’t give a hoot about makeup.* When I pondered what to tackle next in order to continue to actively refine my style, there was one clear choice: Accessories.
Originally posted 2011-09-06 06:11:11.
Oh, how I love this skirt. It’s romantic yet funky, playful yet sophisticated, and ever so fun to wear. It’s also, in essence, a grown-up version of a tutu. And whenever I wore it to the office, whenever I wear it now, it draws lots of comments. Lots of curiosity. It’s an attention-grabber, and causes people to come out of the woodwork to share their thoughts.
And no one has ever said anything nasty about it. Not directly to me, anyway. And I’m able to field whatever questions and opinions get thrown at me, no problem. But I’ve had years of practice and given it loads of thought. And several readers have mentioned that they love the idea of dressing smartly and stylishly, but worry about how peers will react. Specifically how often peers may comment upon or question any noticeable changes in personal style. So I thought I’d offer up a few suggestions for dealing with clothing and style commentary from your peer group.
Originally posted 2012-04-30 06:16:37.
left | right
Reader Krysta posted this question in a comment:
I’d love to see a feature where you give suggestions on how a “dated” item – a sweater duster, a superfringey bag/jacket, etc. – could be styled/worn so that it reads less “dated” and more “updated.” Or something. We all have items we love that look like their year of provenance, and minimizing that look would be useful and interesting…
So. For starters, there’s a fine line between pieces that are recognizably retro, like this vintage printed dress:
Originally posted 2012-03-26 06:20:57.