I may weigh in on style rules around here, but I can’t say I’m terribly fond of them. Understanding them, knowing why they exist and how they work, and applying them occasionally as guidelines works just fine. But crafting every outfit around them? I’ll pass.
Especially since so many style rules are straight-up bullshit. Here are few of my infuriating faves:
- Fat girls can’t wear skinny jeans
- Skinny girls can’t wear chunky jewelry
- Short girls can’t wear long skirts
- Tall girls can’t wear platforms
- Curvy girls can’t wear stripes
- Boyishly-figured girls can’t wear pencil skirts
- Busty girls can’t wear turtlenecks
- Flat girls can’t wear bikinis
What a load.
As if a busty gal would BURST INTO FLAMES should she pull on a turtleneck. As if a short gal will sear the eyes of onlookers should she dare wear a maxi dress. As if there is one, and only one, choice for dressing and it is to create the tallest, skinniest, yet simultaneously most hourglass-y figure possible. At any cost. Including comfort, personal preference, and seasonal appropriateness. Makes me livid.
Originally posted 2011-04-06 06:08:18.
Reader Marina sent me this question in an e-mail:
I’ve noticed recently how many lovely, full-skirts you rock (whether as parts of dresses or actual skirts), and I’m wondering if you might consider one of your reader request posts for similar outfits. Particularly for long-torso’d people. I’m thinking how to match full-skirts with tops that aren’t just blouses or button ups, and/or full-skirted tall dresses.
When I first started wearing skirts, pencils and A-lines dominated. My first full skirt was an orange pleated one from Banana Republic that still gets loads of wear to this day, and I remember wondering how on earth to style it when it first came into my possession. Now full skirts are my go-to style, and I’m delighted to share my tips for making them work.
Originally posted 2014-08-20 06:44:52.
Before I became interested in dressing and style, I avoided thinking about my body. At all costs. I didn’t look in the mirror if I didn’t have to, didn’t focus much energy or attention on how my outfits interacted with my figure, and did my utmost to think about anything besides my own physicality. Because of this choice, the information I was given about my body came almost exclusively from external sources. And none of it was good news: I was chubby, disproportionate, my breasts were too small and my hips were too big, my arms were flabby and so was my stomach. Virtually all of this information was comparative: I was flabby compared to Gwyneth Paltrow, my breasts were too small compared to Victoria’s Secret models … you know the drill. I studiously ignored my body, hoping its perceived inadequacies would diminish if I pretended I was a brain in a jar. And yet this comparative information still crept in and made me feel inadequate.
Originally posted 2013-09-16 06:02:50.