Not Even Mortuary Chic - a rant
Don't get me wrong - I love black clothes, it's dressing conservatively in black that kills me.
This is my second week back to work after two months off. My sparkles, velvet, embroidery and leopard print have moved to the back of my closet. My amber resin is sealed, I'm scentless, senseless and back in black. An outsider among my kind, shoved by the man to the sidelines - left to yearn for that which I know, that of which I can now only admire from the sidewalks of East Pender. Hear my cry eccentric ladies of Chinatown for it is you that I owe my inspiration (and Mr. Marc Jacobs, never you mind what I speak of).
Three things I ask myself when I shop for my everyday clothes:
Would Kate Moss wear that?
Would a crazy Chinese lady wear that?
Was it made prior to 1990?
Three things I ask myself when I shop for work clothes:
Is it black?
Would Grace Coddington wear that?
Would Kim Gordon wear that - to a funeral?
We have paid our dues and have earned the right to tart ourselves up like circus performers, burlesque queens or pole dancing hoochies (and that's just the men). We have earned our right to wear an electric-blue silk-satin blouson. Simon Doonan on ageing. ELLE Decoration October 2014
So, on this rainy day in September, I'll pull out my vintage, oversized, full length, purple, leather jacket I bought this summer and wear it with basic, boring black knowing damn well I'd rather be wearing it topped with my black felt hat, vintage embroidered Thai blouse, black brocade trousers and Officine Creative boots.
Here's some fabric inspo for you! Now go find some new pants!
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