the full skirt

Do not look upon all this that I am telling you about the clothes
as uncalled for or spun out, for they have a great deal to do with the story.

                                     – Cervantes, Don Quixote

Some mornings I wake and wonder: if I could wear anything that day,  truly anything I want…what would I wear?

Then, I wear that.


IMG_7800I recommend it.

There are certain eras of style that resonate with me, notably including the Victorian era (technically 1837-1901, a lot happened but I like the later years) and stages of early America, roughly the 1840s and extending maybe a decade on either side; the era of pioneers and the gold rush, of saloons and prairies.  We still have prairies…but I mean the ones after which the dresses are named. You know the ones.

I love this shape, the full A-line. I’m glad to see more and more knee and calf-length bell skirts out and about (see minute 1:45), and plan to get in on that, too.  I embraced the historic aspect here, pairing the skirt with an old-fashioned top and hairstyle, but imagine it with no crinoline and a T-shirt. I don’t see why there would be anything unwearable about it. Who cares about this “wearability” anyway? If you want to wear it? This shirt would be nice with just jeans…but there will be other days for that.


For me style is sometimes less about looking polished or “stylish” and more about a very specific kind of wish fulfillment or direct expression. In the first case clothing often feels to me like armor that helps me to interface with the world in a way that preserves my individuality and independence; a contemporary uniform that makes it easier to behave like my best public self, designed with the purpose of being worn in this culture, in this era. In the second case of style as fantasy, style as an interpretation of a vision that would get some strange looks on the street, clothing is the opposite of armor, the unprotected translation of self. Such looks are designed with really no purpose save the delight of the self. They are manifestations of my own projections of myself within myself.

Looked at another way, I have a tableau in mind, just like any magazine editorial, and I am the model and creative director in one.

Looked at another way, style is personal.

IMG_7806Civil war era reproduction camp skirt (thrifted) with crinoline (eBay), lace top (thrifted, which I ought to have steamed), obi sash/belt (eBay), Bass oxford pumps (thrifted), Pearls of Joy 10-11mm pearl studs, lace parasol (a gift), vintage Timex watch.



Wear what you want.


the sheer lace top




I suspect that extended exposure to couture shows has lowered my reluctance to go without a bra. I’ve feeling quite the opposite about that, if the clothes dictate it and the weather permits (if it is not too hot). [I’ve already established belonging to the sisterhood of the flat-chested.]

I have sometimes liked the look of a black bra/underthing with a sheer top (at least on others) but it wasn’t what I was feeling for this look, not wanting to break the frame of the lace or muddy the lovely cream color. And why not show the natural beauty of the nipple and breast? It feels to me very modern and sleek and at the same time vulnerable. And ultra-feminine. Think Galliano, think Valentino.



Sheer lace shirt from Vero Moda, Dollhouse shoes*, Lark & Wolff pleated corduroy skirt (thrifted), pearl drops from The Pearl Outlet, 8 strand freshwater pearl bracelet (eBay), Skagen watch. On the nails, Color Club polish in Warhol Pink. On the lips, OCC lip tar in Black Dahlia.

*I got these heels when I was 18 or something. Only a babe and already making such impractical, ostentatious fashion purchases.