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Halloween was excellent this year.
Some pals threw a 50s/Eames party the other day, which was a wonderful opportunity for two things – 1. to attempt a few specifically 50s party treats and, more importantly, 2. to break out a vintage cocktail dress I purchased 10 years ago, but have never worn.
When I was a sophomore in high school, I discovered the magic of Ebay. I spent most of my digital time perusing listings for out of print 45s of obscure English dark wave bands and first editions of pretentious literature. It wasn’t until my senior year, with prom looming on the horizon, that I began delving into options for fabulous prom dresses. Being that my income was solely generated by babysitting, I figured Ebay was my best bet.
I had visions of frothy layers of chiffon, fitted bodices and candy colors. And after a few short weeks… I found it! A beautiful 50s confection at a ridiculously low starting price. I bid (and bid and bid) and 5 days later, it was mine!
And then, I decided to forgo prom in favor of a once in a lifetime chance to see my then favorite band perform in the US for the first time in 10 years. Screw prom, I thought, but what to do about this magnificent frock?!
In completely predictable Laurie fashion, it sat in my closet for many years. Until Saturday!
I think it’s safe to say that my primary digital interests have shifted from clothes to food over the past year.
Perhaps this is a result of my moving from the fashion capital of the US to one of the more prominent foodie capitals. Perhaps it’s because I’ve had a lot more free time, and have divvied it up between afternoons at the farmers’ market and long hours in my kitchen. Regardless of the catalyst, this is now a food blog.
However, my vanity has not entirely subsided, so I will drop in the occasional self-indulgent what-I’m-wearing/self-portrait post… And this is one of them.
I don’t think people nowadays wear enough hats. I’m not talking baseball hats or f-ing urban outfitters fedoras, I’m talking real hats. Hats that people wore to church. Hats people wore to luncheons and Macy’s sales and trips to the Cape.
I’m lucky enough to have cultivated a small wardrobe of vintage headcoverings, but sadly, I don’t wear them nearly often enough! Planning to correctify that soon though, since the windy season is beginning to die down and I will no longer have the fear that my beloved chapeau will be blown off my head, landing directly in a gutter filled with questionable substances.
But until I have that opportunity, I’m satisfied with chapeau-centric photoshoots.
Red, Blue, & Yellow!
I have a favorite jacket. A Ralph Lauren little boy suit jacket from the early 90s that belonged to my little brother. He only wore it once (and I’m almost positive it was for a funeral), but I still like to give my mom a hard time that Justin was rockin’ Ralph Lauren as a young’un, whilst I was perpetually draped in terrycloth.
Somehow I got over my sartorial envy and discovered that this little baby is shrunken in all the right places and completely flattering! I have a hard time finding things with sleeves that are long enough (my arms are freakishly long), so a few years ago, I decided to embrace my monkey arms and go to the extreme opposite… shrunken city, population me!
I wear this thing sooo often – I’ve actually put a pretty substantial hole through the right elbow! It’s a bit absurd that I’ve never posted any pictures of it! So here goes… the maiden (digital) voyage of my beloved boys’ Ralph Lauren…
At last year’s Paul Smith friend’s & family sample sale, I had the great fortune of stumbling upon this exquisite collection vest. It was a small fortune, even at the greatly discounted sale price, so I hid it deep in a box of slightly irregular t-shirts and decided to sleep on it. Of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, dreaming of how fabulous I would look in it as I pranced around New York City, so I mustered the resolve (and the cash) to buy it the next day.
By the grace of a power higher than myself, the vest still lay, undisturbed, in its cottony tomb of tees. And by the same power, and the superior haggling skills of my fella, I bought that bad boy at an insanely reasonable price!
I brought it home, lovingly cradled in my arms, hung it on a fancy cedar hanger and admired how beautiful it looked hanging in my closet. And there it remained. For many moons. Then I moved to California, where it continues to rest in my closet, unworn!
Can I get a woot woot for the maiden voyage of this sartorial wonder of the world?
Had another show last night, with super mod 60s styling (piccies soon, hopefully!)… we’re talking opaque tights, miniskirts, crocheted jumpers and teased bouffants as far as the heavily kohled eye can see. Due to the massive amounts of industrial strength hairspray that my stylist, Brandi doused on my locks, I am currently still sporting a very, VERY teased crown.
So of course, I couldn’t help but attempt to bring out my inner Bardot. Kept everything simple, so as to not take away too much from the hair – an easy cropped vintage sweater from Beacon’s Closet in Brooklyn (snottiest hipsters ever work there, but occasionally you’ll find some good stuff!) and that ubiquitous American Apparel tube skirt. Rounded things out with my new dream boots that I got at Goodwill the other day. I adore the fit and the soft broken in leather of these babies… if only they didn’t have that ridiculous Janeane-Garofolo-circa-1992 chunky heel! I plan on taking them to a shoe guy to see if they can swap them out for something a little more demure.
Behold, my Bardotism:
Socks & pumps. Pumps & socks.
Despite my love of dress-up and gorging one’s self on complex carbohydrates, Halloween has never been a favorite holiday for me. That is until my fella, Spencer, came into the picture. Spencer lives for Halloween, like he begins planning his costume months in advance.
Last year, we had a MASSIVE soiree (6 in the mornin’!) at our Brooklyn apartment. This year, since we’re new to San Francisco, a big bash wasn’t really in the cards. Instead we dressed up to wander around the Dogpatch (eventually ending up at a warehouse party along the piers) and then indulged in the bacchanalian spectacle that is the Dia De Los Muertos parade in the Mission.
Photographic proof of our escapades… Friday in Dogpatch: