Fashion for Writers

            There’s an ethereal man’s voice coming out of the tunnel that goes beneath the train tracks. It echoes as it sings Beatles songs – “Eleanor Rigby” has been my favorite so far. Sometimes he pauses and clears his throat. The tunnel is notorious for being somewhat filthy. I’ve seen human feces down there and there’s often the smell of sweat and urine. It’s also always dark down there, which is what is preventing me from going down there and giving him a dollar, but I hope he’s making an okay amount of money – there, he just interrupted himself to say “thank you” – because he’s really good.

            I stopped at the bookstore today to buy three magazines: the newish Lula, Preen, and a non-fashion magazine (Print). Lately I’ve been making plans for summer art projects – perhaps a small, limited-edition artist’s book – but I also want to figure out exactly what I want to do with this blog and what my intentions are. I don’t intend for it to be a moneymaking thing ever, I’m not on the cutting edge of anything (my edge is quite dull) so I can’t provide much news about this new release or that great new sale, and while I’d say my daily wear isn’t bad at all, I’m a big enough fan of fashionable ladies like Susie Bubble and an (here he goes with “Eleanor Rigby” again) avid enough reader of The Sartorialist to know when I should bother getting out the camera. So the point of all of this blathering is to let you know that this blog is more of a stylistic journal than anything, and I’m just pleased that you’re willing to follow me along as I explore.

            Does anyone know of an online source for individual magazines? As an undergraduate I used to go to News Haven for my eclectic magazine fix – rows and rows of rags devoted to all kinds of things, and I loved it, especially since I was devoted to assemblage/collage at the time. All I can find right now are websites to buy subscriptions from, which I don’t necessarily want. (Do I want a year’s worth of Jalouse? Or French Vogue when I don’t, uh, parlez vous?)

When shopping, the laser-beam focus that can make itself so apparent in other aspects of my life completely disappears. For a long time, my closet was a complete mishmash of things that didn’t really go together; I’d buy things based on instinct without following the rule my mother had always taught me, that being: What could this go with? Is this something that I actually like?

The process I went through recently to clean out my closet will make some people unhappy, but it helped put some money back in my wallet and made my wardrobe about one-fourth its original girth. I won’t go into the whole process, as Gala Darling has explained the general steps with loving care on her own site, but basically, I decided what my general style profile was right now and figured out what didn’t belong. I know this goes absolutely against the very nature of the free spirit who dresses like Stevie Nicks on Tuesday and Debbie Harry on Wednesday. But figuring out my “style profile,” instead of jamming me into an unpleasantly narrow box (yes, I do own a wool orange-and-brown mod romper from the 60s, which decidedly does not belong in my style profile), really helps me focus when I browse for clothes. If I see something that is way beyond the realm of what I believe my style profile to be, the case is more likely than not that I wouldn’t feel comfortable in it, wouldn’t feel good wearing it, and probably won’t get my money’s worth out of it. Plus, the style profile is always growing and changing. I wrote a style profile for myself four years ago and some things that were major staples back then (button-up polyester shirts from the 70s) are not so much for me now.

Right now my style profile would read something like: ladylike and tailored, phasing out the massive amounts of black by introducing neon colors (often with opaque tights), low heels, high waists, no pants, chipped nail polish (this is more because I’m lazy), Beauty Queen lipstick, short-pixie curly hair, increasing amounts of rhinestones, standard huge coat (I have a rotating collection of coats), piled-on bracelets, bows. Last year I fully embraced the tent dress, but this year I discovered my waist, which seemed to have reappeared at least temporarily, and therefore I have accumulated some cinch belts.

What would your style profile be?

Now I am going to listen to some Edith Piaf, drink cheap merlot and read my magazines…