Style roots.

So... hiiiiii! I've been MIA because I have been dealing with my life. I constantly have ideas popping around in my head for entries, but the pesky details of being in my 20s, single (and dating), attending university full-time, working full-time, doing volunteer activities, and trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep here and there kind of got in the way. Add to those factors that I maintain this blog, my personal blog, and am writing a book at the moment and I've been somewhat busy.

Sincerest apologies and thank you to those who have checked in :)

The other day at work I was flipping through magazines to find images to cut out for my employee sales for the past pay period. As I scanned the shiny pages, I saw the same commentary pop-up over and over: minimalism vs. eccentricity.

A friend of mine (Hi Hannah!) has described my style as minimalistic on a number of occasions, but I honestly do not feel that is an accurate description. I feel the things I am most attracted to are fairly quirky, accessorized, etc. That being said, after careful reflection on my style-- because yes, this is something I take seriously-- I realized, she's right. I do tend to dress in a simple, functional style that is slick and efficient. It's not that I don't love accessories, because I do. So why do I dress as I do?

I came up with a lot of theories. The thing is, this is a vital part of my own personal style exploration. Why dress myself any way other than as I feel? What causes me to refrain from adding three more necklaces to any number of ensembles?

My first thoughts went to finances. Let's get real. I devote entirely too much of my income to shopping as it is, but I really can't engage in a full-fledged shopping spree because I have too many responsibilities. I have full faith once I graduate and can get a legitimate job, that will change. I also have faith I will someday hold a position that furnishes my clothing, as I am conveniently sample size. My motivations for getting a degree in fashion are pretty transparent, as you can see.

The second theory falls in line with what so many of our adult behaviors get blamed on, good or bad: my mom. I do not say that in a negative way at all. Despite her utter lack of confidence in anything she wears, my mom has polished, clean American taste. She's very classic and makes an effort. I have never seen my mother go out in public looking anything less than dressed. She is traditional that way. Her influence has had two very large impacts on me. One, I am the only one of my friends who considers it a landmark occasion when I leave the house in sneakers. Two, American style is hardly noted for its eclecticism; moreover it is recognized for being easy to wear and pared down.

A great deal of our choice in life are shaped by our parents. As children we often try to be as like them as possible, then by adolescence we are doing our best to defy them. When adulthood hits, it seems we suddenly start noticing all the things that make us like them; it's the time when we begin using the phrase "I'm turning into my mother/father."

My childhood and adolescence phases were kind of flipped in terms of my mom. As a very little girl, I did my best to defy her. When I got into my teen years, I gradually became closer to her, though of course maintaining a general distaste for her opinions because, hello, I couldn't let my angst go that easily.

So, as a child I did the typical dress-up thing; I spent any number of hours in a child's sized purple satin evening dress and white plastic heels bedecked in feathers. I distinctly remember pictures being taken of me posing with an ivy plant, a moment that epitomized my extremely chic persona. This was nothing like my mother. She would not be caught dead in an uber-glam, attention-grabbing ensemble. She prefers to look fabulous in a less obvious way.

As I got older, I morphed into a couple of different styles. My closet was composed primarily of... well, to be totally honest, nothing worth noting. I had a cute top here and there, but mostly I did not have the confidence to let myself embrace fashion. Simultaneously, my propensity for glitz had not fully disappeared, which explains why I attended prom in an aquamarine dress with a plunging neckline-- we're talking below the belly button here, folks-- and slim links of rhinestones keeping all my pieces and parts hidden behind the sea-colored fabric.

Just under two years ago I had a moment. I realized I was selling myself short; why didn't I deserve to have fun with style as much as the next person? Why did I insist on never indulging my fashion sense? I was living in a vicious cycle: I didn't go out and have fun because I never had anything to wear. I didn't have anything to wear because I never let myself shop. I never let myself shop because I didn't want to spend money. I made less money because I was living on tips and my attitude was dropping substantially as a result of my negative vision of self.

As I said, my mom has very nice style. The problem is her confidence in it... and my problem was my lack of confidence in myself.

Style is as much believing in yourself as a person as it is believing in your ability to wear 4.5 in. platform heels for eight hours at work because they make your outfit fabulous. For me, fashion and style are about taking a few risks. Sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone to keep your look current with your point of view.

After all, I think we can all identify with change in our life causing drastic style consequences. Who hasn't gone to the hairdresser after a breakup, change of job, or too many pieces of cake and asked for a completely new look? I know I have. That irrational mindset is precisely what led to any number of poor hairstyles in my past: my stint as a brunette (with blonde eyebrows), too many close encounters with a crimper, a cut that was a handful of layers away from being a mullet. Thank goodness I have someone doing my hair now who is a friend and will thus be subjected to me complaining if I look a hot mess. She reins me in when I am tempted to do a bit of emotional snip-snip on my 'do, but still obliges me by mixing it up in a rational manner.

That same logic needs to applied to apparel and accessories. It is important to indulge in a bit of exploration while still remaining true to yourself. Examples include the highly dorky glasses I purchased a few entries back, or the turband (a headband/turban) I've been prancing around town in. I stay loyal to me, though. Hey, I am a nerd, so the glasses make sense. I am a bit of a hippie, so the turband is in keeping with my personality. I wear these things, among others I've added to my wardrobe since realizing I do not dress as well as I could to reflect my sense of self, with things that take me back to my safety zone. I do not wear the glasses with hipster jeans and a concert t-shirt. Instead I opt for a pencil skirt and classic button-down. The turband is paired with designer denim or a maxi-skirt in neutral tones, not a hemp necklace and a fistful of incense sticks.

My style has evolved and continues to do so... and along with the simplistic taste of my teen years, there is still a bit of that purple satin costume dress in my life. The difference is these days I pair it with black pumps instead of white feathered heels. In fact, that was precisely what I wore on New Year's Eve this year-- and now the dress was accented with black lace, because this little girl is all grown up.

FYI

I bought the silly glasses. They make me laugh and I decided that made them worth forking over the equivalence of three vodka martinis.

Over & Out.

A Four-Eyed Frenzy: Meow!

When I was in third grade, I started the year off with perfect 20/20 vision. Over the course of the following six months or so, my eyes changed drastically and suddenly the optometrist was mentioning things like, "astigmatism" and "legally blind".

Initially I was fairly excited about getting glasses. Not only were they an accessory, the most popular girl in class wore glasses. Naturally I assumed wearing them would make me equally cool. That didn't really work out. It turns out there are any number of not-so-friendly nicknames that can be associated with wearing glasses. There are also special phrases, such as, "girls who wear glasses never get passes." What delightful ways to brainwash us into thinking glasses are not a worthwhile accessory.

In fact, glasses are a very easy-- and potentially practical-- way to play with your style. Rocking a pair of simplistic, classic frames certainly gives a different impression from a pair decked out in rhinestones.

I myself am fond of cat's eye glasses. This is nothing new. It is arguably the sexiest style of frames for women. I prefer plastic frames, because they are lightweight and more youthful. I also tend to gravitate toward classic colors, such as black or tortoiseshell. Everyone I have come into contact with in the past three months has heard of my obsession with Prada's Rectangular Cat Eye sunglasses, and a similar look is what I'm currently on the prowl for in the standard eyeglass arena.

The following are some of my favorites at the moment. In case you miss it by the watermark defiling all but one image, they can all be purchased at eyewearbrands.com.

Gucci GG3146 791 in Havana Prada PR16NV 1AB101 in Black

Ray Ban RX5226 2034 in Black Tom Ford TF173 "Nikita" 01B in Black

Realistically, I cannot drop a wad of cash on glasses at the moment. I am, as they say, a poor college student. As a resourceful young lady, I am constantly on the hunt for the perfect budget-friendly version of these gems. Case in point, the following image of me trying to decide if I should pick up a particular pair of frames to have prescription lenses into them. I sent this to a handful of friends who all instantly said "YES GET THEM!" but I'm still unsure... they are awfully enormous. Please disregard the high level of dorkdom being presented by my facial expression.

Yes I know how classy the tag hanging on them looks.

We shall see. Considering they ring in at $24.00 and are undeniably amusing, I may get them just for fun.

Oh please find your ways into my closet!

Not all together, of course, but this is fantasy shopping, so whateva!

Christian Louboutin Patent Leather Platform Slingback Sandals in Ivory

Winter Kate Silk Crepe Top in Ivory Floral Multi

3.1 Phillip Lim Belted Twill Shorts in Stone

Matt & Nat "Hendrix" Bag in Ikat

Real vs. Imaginary Women

A conversation about style inevitably becomes a discussion of fashion. While some people may want to pretend fashion and style do not influence them, we are surrounded by it. In turn, the industry contains a breadth of hot debate topics, ranging from quality and a question of taste to eco-responsibility and social norms. The "norm" most frequently discussed is size.

In the case of men, the number stitched into one's pants label does not seem to be as much of a discussion. Some men pride themselves on their 32-in. waistband, while others subscribe to the "bigger is better" mentality. It seems whichever side of the line they fall under, men embrace their natural physiques with greater ease than women. There are certainly any number of guys who lust to identify in the looks department with such gentlemen as Ryan Reynolds circa Blade Trinity, or the ever classic, Brad Pitt in Fight Club... but I somehow doubt they are standing in fitting rooms crying because they have to go up a size in their pants.

I'm not judging women who do, but I am judging those who refuse to accept their correct size because they are convinced they deserve/ought to be another. What fuels the mindset that a woman must be a certain size? What causes us to believe if we go up numerically, we are a failure? Those are questions I do not believe we will ever truly find answers for.

Some people place blame on society: do we raise young women to believe they must be eternally petite Daddy's Little Girls? Do we encourage females to remain lithe and tiny so as to appear more defenseless and thus, desirable damsels in distress?

A more popular point of view is to attack fashion and the images projected by designers. After all, we are constantly thrown images of long, lean Brazilian bikini models, so naturally we assume we must all look just like them. To me, that logic is the same as saying if you watched Avatar a few times you might draw the conclusion that your skin being any color other than blue makes you a freak.

Such rationalizations might be easy to draw as a child; naive and impressionable, little girls would be easy to convince. But as women? As adults? I think it's time to own up to a little maturity and start asking bigger questions than, "how can I get my stomach as flat as that Victoria's Secret model's?"

The big picture is, what matters most is not what a label defines you as being. That's true in regards to brand names and it is also true for size. Style should not be dictated by how many designer tags you have hanging in your closet, so why do so many people insist on associating it with the size on those tags?

Interestingly enough, that concept is beginning to be embraced in a much more aggressive manner and replaced with a new one: the idea of "real" women, or rather, women who exceed size 10. While many people are more than happy to denounce previously held notions regarding the necessity to be a small size, a great number of them are then clinging onto a new physical expectation: unless you are on the larger scale of things, you are apparently not a real woman.

Some other commonly associated statements with this new neurosis include, but are not limited to:

"Real women have curves."

"Men want a woman with meat on her bones."

"Normal women are not a size 2."

Do people listen to the words coming out of their mouths and consider what they actually mean? First of all, it is entirely possible to be both small and curvy; I am a testament to that. Further, why is it necessary to devalue those who are small in terms of sex appeal? More importantly, why should men get so much say about our physical dispositions? Last, what is so abnormal about being a size 2? I say this because I hear those comments on a regular basis at my job. I am a size zero or 2, depending on the garment. I am also an hourglass figure and not only eat lunch, but also breakfast and dinner and usually I like to top my meals off with dessert. Nevertheless, women have no problem coming up to me and asking me where the Real Women Sizes are.

"The what?"

"You know. The Real Women Sizes. None of this little girl stuff. Where do they keep the stuff for us fully grown girls?"

Ahh. So not only am I abnormal, my growth is stunted. Is that the message I am supposed to take from those remarks? Frankly, I suspect people would get fairly angry if I suggested they push back from the table so they can fit into the Imaginary Women Sizes. I don't believe food is the be-all end-all of what creates our physical stature, but since it is apparently okay to imply such an idea, perhaps I should get on board.

This discussion is something I think about often, but particularly jumped to the forefront of my mind in reaction to a recent post on The Sartorialist. He made a comment about a girl he photographed being curvy and was immediately berated. I feel this portion of his reaction was quite succinct:

"[This] post [was] hijacked over the political correctness of the words. So help me understand; what is the modern way to speak about size?"

I will be the first person to admit I am judgmental. Who isn't? The truth is, I am as bothered by the sight of a grossly overweight woman as I am of a malnourished and frail woman. I prefer a look of health, and to be totally honest, it is infinitely more fun to dress. I find when dressing women of the other extremes, they are never truly comfortable in anything I put on them. I am sure there are any number of reasons for that, but the one that jumps out at me is they are uncomfortable in their own, unhealthy skin.

In reality, no single size or body shape/type is healthy. What is healthy is entirely dependant on the individual and we all need to take responsibility for the health of our insides so our outsides can reflect it. That is not only relevant to physical health, but mental.

I propose we all stop categorizing bodies by "real" or, my personal favorite, "anorexic"-- because it's so easy to see a brain disorder just by looking at someone, right?-- and instead start focusing on ourselves, the individuals. The snide remarks, the nasty slang words; let's just get rid of them. Instead of relegating fault, how about we start taking responsibility for perpetuating body image negativities?

I, for one, believe style is personal. I believe it is about dressing well for who you are, mentally, physically, and emotionally. Embracing style should be a way to express ourselves, not an opportunity to belittle what we see in mirrors and around us. "Normal" is an irrelevant term and I hope someday use of the word "healthy" will no longer reflect a comment on one who fits one specific shape or weight, but rather, the body type most suited for the individual.