five ways to wear a bridesmaid dress

Point: this is a post about me wearing something frilly and yellow and sort of liking it. 

I have to admit that when my dear friend Heidi asked me to fly out to LA to be a bridesmaid in her wedding later this month, my joy for her was clouded by a bit of concern.  Surely at some point during our four years of friendship throughout college she must have realised that I was an irascible and highly caffeinated New Yorker, disinclined to ever leave Gotham, a far cry from any sunny California bridesmaid?  And secondly, surely she realised that nothing remotely resembling a poufy pink prom dress had ever graced my figure and, god willing, never would?  I agreed to, naturally, but not without some warnings:  “If you make me wear pink we’re never talking again” and “Don’t be surprised if I show up in combat boots.”  But apparently I misunderestimated the bridesmaidly charm of my cantankerous facade, as well as Heidi’s ability to not make a bridal party a sartorial nightmare.

When I found out that we were free to choose our own dresses that loosely fit a theme and palette rather than being forced into ill-fitting satin David’s Bridal cookie cutter gowns that would flatter none of us, I breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe I would even - famous last words, I know - wear my dress again!  But I still wasn’t entirely without trepdiation: the palette was mustard yellow, salmon pink, and terracotta orange.  I was going to have to do some work.  A closet of neutrals makes you surprisingly lazy — having only texture and form to deal with makes getting dressed in the dark a breeze.  I could not invest in a mustard yellow dress and get dressed in the dark.  Plus there was the issue of finding something still appropriately bridesmaid-esque that didn’t also, you know, suck.

dress just cavalli // shoes marc by marc

Which is why this 20’s-ish drop-waist mustard yellow froisse silk Just Cavalli number that I scored on Yoox seemed like the perfect solution, and when I got it in the mail a few weeks ago, I was even happier.  It’s gorgeous, for sure — but ruffles and, well, yellow are still pretty far out of the range of my usual looks.  But what the hey — I rave about Nina Ricci enough to pull off something girly (I repeat, ruffles?!?!) for once, and I loved the mustard and black in Lanvin SS11.  I would make this work.  AND SO I PLAYED DRESS UP YOU GUYS OMG!1111!1!!1!!  

It fit in surprisingly well with my usual leather jacket and ubiquitous wedge combat boots, and I liked how the subtle 20’s silouhette worked with the flapper-esque length of the rosary necklace:

jacket april77 //  tights aa // boots surface to air

A bolero and lace-up boots seemed appropriate for work or dinner out:

jacket h+m // boots aldo

A cloche hat kept with the 20’s feel and a scarf, snake cuff bracelet, and penny loafers seemed nice for a Saturday brunch or something, I don’t know:

hat vintage // scarf canal street “mcqueen” // shoes urban

And finally, it worked surprisingly well under my favourite “I feel like crap today and/or it’s raining or I don’t feel like putting real clothes on” sack sweater dress and blazer:

sweater too old to even remember // blazer zara // studded flats dolce vita // bag acne

helmut newton

Here, first, we must take a moment to discuss how much I appreciated the current lady photographers exhibit at MOMA, which I had the pleasure of attending the opening party for with the ever-lovely Caitlin Mae Burke and other wondrous folks a few weekends ago (what’s with me taking forever to blog?), which despite the somewhat lackluster performance by the Raincoats and some mishaps involving an unfortunately early termination of the free libations, was INDEED still a lovely evening. And thus we must nod our heads solemnly at the ever-excellent canon of Total Fucking Geniuses With Both Ladyparts And Cameras, including but not limited to Dorothea Lange, Imogen Cunningham, Lisette Model, Helen Levitt, Diane Arbus and Cindy Sherman who I roll my eyes at more than I ought to but like OVERKILL PEOPLE PLEASE, Nan Goldin who I eternalove always and forever (cliche 4 lyfe) and more recently, Rineke Dijkstra and Alex Prager, both of whom you should probs be aware if you are not already.

But after that, on to the rest: I’ll admit it, I get crap for the fact that I adore Helmut Newton like it’s my goddamn job. Meagan at Latterstyle’s posted about this recently too - it’s an easy obsession to feel conflicted about.  And so I’ll neurotically and wordily disclaim it first at totally unecessary great length, LIKE I DO FOR EVERYTHING ELSE I LIKE THAT IS POTENTIALLY EVEN THE TINIEST BIT CONTESTABLE.  “How can you like his work? He’s a misogynist,” people say, “a pervert.  He was like Terry Richardson before Terry was Terry. It’s not as if fetishizing athletically-built overconfident sneering adult women in bondage is any less degrading than fetishizing underfed dead-eyed sixteen year olds with terrified grimaces on their beestung parted lips.  For fuck’s sake, Time magazine condemned him as an antifeminist pervert in 19-effing-77.  Have you read his biography? He was a self-obsessed prick who looked at women as if they were plants. Also, seriously, what are you, a freshman year photography student?”  YES, OKAY. I KNOW. YES. I AGREE. YES. However:


Arguably, Newton’s most obvious photographs are, of course, the two shots of YSL’s 1975 “Le Smoking” suit, which arguably both defined YSL’s look and image, set a hell of a lot of probably debatable (but aesthetically pleasing?) precedents involving menswear-for-women/’androgyny’/holy-shit-lesbos in fashion photography, and spawned countless homage, imitations, and references over the next three decades.  Tthe images status as iconic are indisputable (though obviously establishing an image’s artistic value or status as iconic does not, of course, grant it any moral superiority, and, really, I’m the last person to want to get into that argument.) But those YSL ads and his image of a woman contemplating a man in St Tropez (see below, also oft-imitated) are visual “household names,” among the cultural currency we encounter on postcards, textbooks, dorm room walls, and teenager’s livejournals, often unaware of their origins but always remarking that we’ve “seen that before.”  This stuff is obvious, and it is obvious for a reason, and I am never tired of it. I’ve been disclaiming it for two paragraphs but, seriously kids. Paper my fucking walls in Helmut Newton. I WILL LOVE IT.


Beyond the iconic, though: 

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in which at long last shiloh and suri are finally addressed.

Dear and darling readers, nothing makes me happier (no, seriously) than when you all email me offensively asinine things you find on the internet with a plethora of question marks and explanation points and WTFs and ask for my so obviously extremely qualified opinions!  For the most part I do my best to carry on snark-filled emailconversations with each one of you special snowflakes and then occasionally write about it, but some things are just too painfully stupid/offensive for me to even acknowledge (for example, I am refusing to even have any more conversations about the Acne “transvestite/transgender/transexual/insert other incorrect term they used in their press release” shirts or about “ethnic beauty is the new black OH WAIT” or anything involving feathers or Lara Stone’s tits ever again basically.) Other things are so epicly stupid and offensive that after an entire year of eyerolling I am sort of required to address it lest my eyes roll permanently back into my head.  HENCE THE ISSUE OF SHILOH JOLIE-PITT AND SURI CRUISE FINALLY SURFACES. 

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Let’s pretend that decent detail shots and then spotty-funhouse(seriously, look at my face)-mirror camera-in-hand full outfit photos are, uh, nostalgic for the days of Livejournal and my pre-DSLR days or something, shall we? I ran out to miscellaneous gothtastic fashion things with Hilary, Chelsey, and Natasha last night and there was not enough time (and perhaps more than enough free champagne) to do the EPIC AWESOME 90STASTIC NYFW2K10FEST GOING ON HERE anything approaching photographic justice at all.

cami aalace velvet flocked shirt corset situation free people circa 8th grade choker also from high school (proof of both, for the lolz: exhibit a, age 16, and blonde, and b, c, d) skirt definitely got this off the old lady rack at kohl’s or something boots surface to air

Let’s pretend that decent detail shots and then spotty-funhouse(seriously, look at my face)-mirror camera-in-hand full outfit photos are, uh, nostalgic for the days of Livejournal and my pre-DSLR days or something, shall we? I ran out to miscellaneous gothtastic fashion things with HilaryChelsey, and Natasha last night and there was not enough time (and perhaps more than enough free champagne) to do the EPIC AWESOME 90STASTIC NYFW2K10FEST GOING ON HERE anything approaching photographic justice at all.

cami aa
lace velvet flocked shirt corset situation free people circa 8th grade 
choker also from high school (proof of both, for the lolz: exhibit a, age 16, and blonde, and b, c, d
skirt definitely got this off the old lady rack at kohl’s or something 
boots surface to air

New York in summer is basically just hell, since it’s eternally about six hundred degrees and so humid you can’t breathe and you’re kind of surrounded by degenerates/demons all the time anyhow. Which means, alas, wool tights and six layers of black stuff ain’t gonna cut it for a few months.  As much as I’d love for you to think I ETERNALLY look uber-fa$hion and clump around in four inch wedges all day everyday and, here’s what I’ve actually worn the past four days.
1| tanks earnest sewn, alex wang jeans cheap monday  shoes jeffrey campbell2| tee uzi shorts h+m sandals dolce vita shamelessly copying surface to air3| shirt aa shorts h+m shoes nine west4| blazer zara shirt helmut lang shorts were jeans from gap in 2003 shoes dolce vita  

New York in summer is basically just hell, since it’s eternally about six hundred degrees and so humid you can’t breathe and you’re kind of surrounded by degenerates/demons all the time anyhow. Which means, alas, wool tights and six layers of black stuff ain’t gonna cut it for a few months.  As much as I’d love for you to think I ETERNALLY look uber-fa$hion and clump around in four inch wedges all day everyday and, here’s what I’ve actually worn the past four days.

1| tanks earnest sewn, alex wang jeans cheap monday  shoes jeffrey campbell
2| tee uzi shorts h+m sandals dolce vita shamelessly copying surface to air
3| shirt aa shorts h+m shoes nine west
4| blazer zara shirt helmut lang shorts were jeans from gap in 2003 shoes dolce vita  

One of the reasons I only post outfit-type-posts once a week or so is because I have this terrible habit of basically wearing the same thing over and over again — if I’m not going to be in the same place and around the same people, I’ll pretty much wear an outfit I like for a few days straight, or at least the same pieces.  In this case, yesterday’s blazer and boots.
Someone on Formspring (go for it!) recently asked me why I wear so much black; I think the basic answer to this is “my hair is orange and my skin is impossibly pale but yellow-toned and it’s basically offensive if I wear bright things and it also just looks completely ridiculous on me for no apparent reason.”  Though I could also sound all fancy and talk about how a lot of people who stick to monochrome palettes are more playful with shape and volume and architecture, but I think I’m still always drawn to more classic shapes — you’ll notice an awful lot of a-line skirts, tailored blazers, waist belts, and slim pants here.  But within that I tend to have more fun mixing textures and styles — like a sexy-ish silk racerback top, clunky boots, a girly lace and tulle skirt, and the boyish oversized blazer (with the a-line skirt it totally reminds me of Bridget Fonda in Single White Female — why are there not more photos of her in this on the internet? AWESOME CLOTHES AND HAIR, the end.) 
dress worn as shirt bb dakota skirt urban blazer zara necklace oak boots surface to air

One of the reasons I only post outfit-type-posts once a week or so is because I have this terrible habit of basically wearing the same thing over and over again — if I’m not going to be in the same place and around the same people, I’ll pretty much wear an outfit I like for a few days straight, or at least the same pieces.  In this case, yesterday’s blazer and boots.

Someone on Formspring (go for it!) recently asked me why I wear so much black; I think the basic answer to this is “my hair is orange and my skin is impossibly pale but yellow-toned and it’s basically offensive if I wear bright things and it also just looks completely ridiculous on me for no apparent reason.”  Though I could also sound all fancy and talk about how a lot of people who stick to monochrome palettes are more playful with shape and volume and architecture, but I think I’m still always drawn to more classic shapes — you’ll notice an awful lot of a-line skirts, tailored blazers, waist belts, and slim pants here.  But within that I tend to have more fun mixing textures and styles — like a sexy-ish silk racerback top, clunky boots, a girly lace and tulle skirt, and the boyish oversized blazer (with the a-line skirt it totally reminds me of Bridget Fonda in Single White Female — why are there not more photos of her in this on the internet? AWESOME CLOTHES AND HAIR, the end.) 

dress worn as shirt bb dakota
skirt urban
blazer zara
necklace oak
boots surface to air

hooded tank dress complex geometries
burnout wrap vest oak
boots surface to air
craptastic white balance / epic colour distortion fluorescent lights and ‘auto colour’ function

shirt oak
pants american apparel
shoes surface to air

More than a decade later (AAAH I’M OLD) and still trying to somehow imitate those high school goth girls that seemed sooooo cool and grown up or whatever whenIi was a lil’ tween in the mid to late 90s or something. All I need now is that Fairuza Balk 90s dark lipliner and maybe a choker. Also, Daria on DVD, though everyone needs that in their life all the time anyway. 

I love the trend that’s developed over the past few years of making beautiful high-quality jewelry out of ugly, macabre, or dangerous things — nothing new, but I’ve got so many of them bookmarked that I love - after the jump:

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silk shirt: uo
jeans: current/elliot
boots: surface to air

silk shirt: uo

jeans: current/elliot

boots: surface to air

No idea how these guys are doing this — my guess is painting some sort of reflective substance that somehow reflects the projector, which maybe is at a really low light not visible against the matte surface without whatever it is, or at a certain angle or something?  Either way, really cool.