Fashion for Writers

What to do when you’re feeling under the weather and the skies are either pouring down snow or shining down sun? Obviously, make pie. Or, in my case, watch my friend Hanna (& that’s without an extra H, yep) make sour cream apple pie for her mother’s birthday in a utilitarian-yet-adorable tube dress and handmade, Finnish salmon-colored apron. (Note that we are not looking at my outfit today. I am wearing the exact same outfit that I wore in my last outfit post. When I said that I was in a funk and wearing the same clothes over and over again, I meant it.)

At left is an adorable pocket for love-notes and slips of notebook paper with hastily scrawled phone numbers and/or email addresses. 

And some fashionable kitchenware, which is much cuter than my own measuring cups and spoons. In fact, I don’t own measuring spoons. The tablecloth is from Togo (the country, not the sandwich shop). 

A final look at the ingredients. If Hanna finishes her baking endeavor before I have to leave for the airport (K & I are picking up Chris tonight), I’ll ETA a photo of the pie. 

As a bonus for participating in the fashion show, the models received gift certificates for getting their hair done; I made an appointment to (finally!) perm my hair again at the end of the month. I can’t wait to get back to having short, curly hair. It was either that, or get fantastically long extensions.

In other, more writerly news, I received a travel grant from the university to do research for my thesis/novel, so I’ll be adding a week in gold mining country into my jam-packed summer. The wedding is also oddly, oddly soon…

ETA:

My favorite thing about Ann Arbor is the UMich Law Quad; but second to the Law Quad is Fleetwood Diner, the tiniest, greasiest little spoon this side of this snowy Midwestern sky. It is, naturally, open 24 hours, serves great coffee, has excellent waitstaff, and is set in a tiny trailer (literally) on the outskirts of downtown. 

Last time Chris came to visit me, I was determined to get him to witness the glory of the Fleetwood Diner, in part because his nickname in college was Fleetwood — and, of course, because the atmosphere is great (stickers everywhere, smoking allowed inside, which I usually hate, but somehow seems charming there) and in part because the food is amazing. It’s the kind of food you really want after a night of heavy drinking, or if you’ve had a long, painful workshop and need to vent to your friend, or if you’re fighting with someone you love and you need a place to just settle down and have some eggs. 

But what Chris did when he came with me was pretty much abominable. He ordered something like this: eggs, toast, and bacon. Which is fine if you’re anywhere else, but the Fleetwood specializes in these marvelous creations called the Hippie Hash Breakfasts (yeah, I know), which is basically 1.) hashbrowns covered in 2.) tons of chopped-up fresh vegetables covered in 3.) a friendly sprinkling of feta cheese topped by 4.) two eggs. Not healthy, but certainly delicious, and it’s become my comfort food here in the lonesome crowded midwest. In fact, I should have taken a photo of mine, but I was too busy eating it to think about taking a picture.

I’ve been feeling a little emotionally under the weather lately (chalk it up to early spring, my arch-nemesis), so the urge to wear the same thing every day — Chris has compared me to a space traveler — is even more prevalent than ever. But more updates are forthcoming, even if they’re not about what I’m wearing. I have yet to be wowed by any new collection; I think Rhiannon was pretty on point about APC’s offerings this year, and Alexander Wang, whom I’m usually gaga over, has left me feeling… tepid. I have “discovered” some lesser-known labels lately that I really love, though, so keep on the lookout for that post (as I give away my secrets).

(hat: montreal, scarf: UO, minidress: UO, leggings: AA, booties: UO, cardigan: makimaki vintage on ebay)

After coveting and thinking and saving and, finally, walking by the local Ritz Camera — which was Going Out of Business! All Sales Final! Clearance! — I decided to plunk down the plastic for a new camera, and I’ve been so excited. Snappity snap snap! And the fact that I have a camera now is going to lead to a resurgence of posts to FFW. Thanks for your patience. I’m glad to be back!

For the past few months I’ve been obsessive not so much about my usual vintage dresses with nipped-in waists and carefully tight sleeves and bodices, but have been instead tending toward loose t-shirt dresses (UO/AA versions of Alexander Wang’s T collection, etc). and leggings (my favorite being the black, high-waisted cotton jersey leggings at AA, of which I have two pairs). It’s really more out of laziness than anything. Comfort. Slouchiness. Jersey, jersey, jersey!

(My hair and make-up after the show. A lot of it had worn off — my face was sprayed with gold glitter!)

One fun thing that happened while I was gone from FFW: I was invited to be a model in a local fashion show, run in tandem by local hair salon Above Ground and local vintage phantasmagoria The Get Up. I wore three outfits, the real show-stopper being a 20s silk dress with a cah-razy wrap made of, like, six minks, with heads attached. There were tons of photographers there, including one hired by the salon, and the model contracts stipulated that we’d get pictures; so I’ll be sure to post them up here, once I get them. I’ll also write a much longer post about the experience — I have a lot to say about the weirdness of being surrounded by “professional models” and how intimidated I was about the runway!