Whimsical Nerd

An unemployed fashionista

2010-09-19T19:27:00.000-07:00

It isn't that I don't have time to blog; it's that I don't have much to put together outfits for.

Choker: thrifted
Top: H&M
Skirt: F21
Tights: Nicole Miller via Marshall's
Oxford pumps: DKNY via eBay
Vintage 60s patent leather bag: birthday gift from aunt

This was donned for a dinner date with some old friends, and so I had a reason to fancy myself up a bit and go through the ordinary motions of life. Important things! Like matching a skirt to one's lipstick and then proceeding to subdue the look because, let's be honest, you just inked your face with hot pink and are wearing a mini-skirt to dinner but really don't want to appear as if you are trying too hard or screaming for attention, because you desperately want to appear put-together and somehow laid-back, even though you aren't laid-back because you are a girl who buys lip liner to match her wildly-pigmented lipstick and photographs herself so as to showcase her outfits on the internet. But still.

Really, though, this job search has transmogrified me into an essential puddle of goo. I vacillate between attempting to put together an outfit every day and tossing the whole process out of the window, so as to avoid the especial if not isolated embarrassment of being all dressed up with nowhere to go. If a gal is all gussied up and doesn't go anywhere so no one sees her, does she still make a sound?

If you have recently heard an employer musing about how difficult it is to find Soviet History and vintage fascinator enthusiasts these days, please let me know. Until then, it is nice to change my non-pace by piecing together an outfit for dinner.

Because Fiona seems somewhat obliv to sartorial pursuits, no?

Troubleshooting/troublemaking.

2010-09-08T13:56:00.000-07:00

Tragically, sometimes shoots do not go as planned. Case one:

Umbrella: Liquidation store
Black and white striped top: Target
Black blazer: Ruth via Crossroads
Skirt: Target
Tights: Target
Shoes: Payless
Vintage 60s frame bag: thrifted

This was the best shot out of a bucket's worth. I think it is a shame that I look so irritated, because I don't believe myself to have been. The look of irritation is made more acute by the vaguely pinkish red shadow cast on my face by the umbrella.

The umbrella, however, is obnoxiously happy. Ultimately, the power of it and my pissy face combine to formulate an average effect. Win?

...the painful after-story is this: The sun came out immediately after this shoot and warmed the Earth by 20 degrees or so. Of course, this was after I already left for the day. I ripped my fingernail, which in turn snagged my tights. And my sense of self-worth.

Case two: being unaware of the girth of your fabrics (ugh, and the angle of your lens,) can result in an experience which should serve as a valuable lesson for your readers. Because if these things are off kilter, you could easily go from this:

Vintage chain bag: thrifted
Necklace: gift from friends in Taiwan
Tee: Charlotte Russe
Skirt: thrifted
Flats: Target

...to this:

So, wearing a camisole wouldn't have killed me. Unfortunately, not wearing a camisole did. I am relieved that I am able to access Blogger from the afterlife, but I am starting to worry that some angel might see it over my shoulder and accuse me of committing the deadly sin of vanity.

Fit for a feast

2010-09-05T10:38:00.000-07:00

This outfit whisked me from a job interview to a birthday interview. Actually, I whisked myself - the outfit did very little of the walking.

Headband: Wal-Mart
Vintage scarf: from Grandma
Tuxedo jacket: H&M via Crossroads
Black and white dress: DKNY via Salvation Army
Tights: Target
Oxford pumps: DKNY via eBay

Wearing a bun makes it very, very easy to forgo washing one's hair for an irresponsible period of time.

I celebrated my birthday with family at my favorite Italian restaurant. I have been ordering their cavatelli for over a decade. Cavatelli, though, is a very dense and ruthlessly bloating pasta. I had the foresight to acknowledge the fact that after a plate of it, I would have a carb gut. This dress' waist is cut a bit high and has some extra room in it. And fill it I did.

Gingham and floral in the hot hot sun

2010-08-29T18:10:00.000-07:00

I am obviously concentrating on not flashing the camera. My expression may change, but the position of my thighs won't.

Vintage fascinator: thrifted
Shades: Target
Silver necklace: gift from aunt
Gingham blouse: H&M
Magenta tank: Terranova
Black and white floral skirt: thrifted
Madden Girl Booties
Vintage '60s frame bag: thrifted

This skirt actually wouldn't be my thing...just a generic thing from Anne Taylor from a few seasons ago. I almost passed it up before realizing it was a size too small and also from the petite collection (and I am 5'10".) Suddenly, I visualized it as a high-waisted mini.

I am developing a '60s frame bag infection. It is metastasizing.

I wore this whole get-up to an outdoor party and built the whole concept around my new MAC lipstick. It is basically tattooed on, and I will need a brillo pad to get it off.

Not that I mind.

Off the beaten tracks

2010-08-27T16:51:00.000-07:00

When you are severely unemployed, there are few preferable ways to spend a weekday than a thrifting adventure with a bee eff eff. Mary and I decided to celebrate this year's annual August 27th by taking a trip to some faraway thrift stores in dodgy neighborhoods.

The trouble is, neither of us have any sense of direction. What began as a clever way to avoid traffic rapidly devolved into a haunting and unfamiliar microchosm of everything that is wrong with the world. Specifically, we watched in veritable horror as the street we knew turned into a quaint winding road that dead-ended at what appeared to be an abandoned farm. There were no farm animals, however. They are presumed dead.

We got some photos on the railroad tracks, which at no point appeared to harbor an actual train. The sun was more distasteful than kissing someone who has just gobbled up a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

Flower top: Forever 21
Vintage jumper: thrifted
Gold leaf cuff: antique store
Olive tights: A sketchy liquidation sale store
Oxford pumps: Baker's
Vintage chain bag: thrifted

...Though we apparently both dressed for Fall, it is worth noting that both Mary and myself suffered gravely for our choices. Mary's van does not have air conditioning, and we were both made to pay the price for our sartorial missteps.

On Mary:
Vintage dress: thrifted
Belt: thrifted
Tights: A retailer who presumably intended them for wear in non-August months
Boots: thrifted in Colorado

Ugh, I wish I got a photo of Mary's boots. They are lovely with dresses, but also so utilitarian that they could probably facilitate the construction of a motorcycle factory on a bed of nails. Or something equally brawny.

one for the road.

I break in new shoes; I pay a price in blood

2010-08-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

I am wearing a few items for the first time.

Dress: thrifted old school Old Navy circa I don't know
Tights: Hue
Vintage gold leaf cuff: antique store
Oxford platform pumps: DKNY via eBay
Vintage '60s frame bag: antique store

Though it may not appear so to the untrained eye, drama bubbles beneath the surface.
It festers, threatening to break the very seams of tranquility and seize upon us in an unrestrained burst of fury and pain.

Clearly, I am referring to the process of breaking in shoes. More specifically, damn. Humanity has figured out a way to afford humans the luxury of flicking a tiny, wall-mounted switch and illuminating rooms of any size hours before the rising of the sun, but it has yet to solve the problem of the inherent crappiness of wearing a pair of shoes for the first time. I am more of a cannonball than a dip-one-toe type of girl, and so I generally reserve my break-ins for a time I know I'll be walking around a lot. Naturally, a girls' day out at the mall filled the bill, but I took these shots at the end of the day upon my return...my apologies if my agony and disillusionment with the world in general are somewhat visible in these photos. On the plus side, I found a few cute things.

...that photo is about as blurry as the lines between life and death after a five-hour stroll.

A quick sidenote: I thrifted this dress at a thrift store just near my house the other day. I saw it about a week ago and thought to myself, "meh, it is Old Navy. It is pretty silly to thrift Old Navy," and went about my business listening to Broadway musicals on my iPod and sipping an enormous and costly beverage from Starbucks. A few days passed, however, and my yearning for the simple shirtdress failed to wane - I loved the color, shape, and figured it is the sort of piece I could easily wear to death with the right layering. So I returned to find it; it was meant to be.

...this is what I must look like to a rather short person, as my mom held the camera unfortunately low to snap this. Oh dear.

On the plus side, she got the camera appropriately all up in my business to shoot my earrings.

TRAINS!

If it isn't socially acceptable to be downing cocktails, may one still wear that kind of hat?

2010-08-16T17:24:00.000-07:00

It is never unreasonable to admit to yourself the simple fact that, if you wear a fancy vintage cocktail hat outside for no particular reason during the day, people will think you are odd.

Vintage aqua velvet and lace cocktail hat: roadside antique store
Black dress with eyelet: thrifted, Target
Gingham belt: removed from thrifted dress
Black pumps: Steve Madden
Vintage shoe clips: eBay

...Indeed, I elected to pair the hat with plain, classic things so as to tone down the perceived mental illness factor.

I haven't posted for several days, because Chicago endured a heat-and-humidity-wave so severe that I could barely be bothered to function, let alone dress myself. I did throw a Jersey Shore themed party on Saturday, which was met with great success. I cannot post the pictures, though. Let's just say that the photos are such that if they ended up in a time capsule and were found, say a few centuries into the future, the images would pretty much discredit everything humanity has achieved up until this point.

Shoe clips are delightfully fun, but I advise you to listen to the cues coming from your foot. If it hurts, your toe might be bleeding profusely. This has happened to me. It may happen again.

Fiona and I have oodles of fun together.

...her face, however, tells a slightly different story.

"ZOMFG I BE SO OUTTA HERE!!!"

girl of a feather

2010-08-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

So, I've got the trappings of a long-dead pheasant on my head.

Vintage pheasant feather fascinator: antique store off highway
'n' pendant: gift from aunt
Black tee: H&M
Gold leaf cuff: antique store
Vintage leaf belt: from Grandma
vintage tan skirt: thrifted
Tights: Target
Miu Miu knock off pumps: Baker's
Vintage frame bag: antique store

A friend and I took a six hour round trip yesterday to Galesburg, Illinois, which boasts a fine antique store as well as the college attended by my little sister. We managed to patronize both.

On the way there, though, we made a pit stop for gas and bladder relief. I noticed there was a po-dunk-a-dunk antique store next door to the gas station and I decided to stab two pheasants with one stiletto and use the bathroom there.

I was waiting for the toilet for a solid seven minutes or so, which is a long time when you consider the fact that there are 420 seconds crammed into that and I was staring at a door. I kept hearing decidedly non-bathroom noises - some clinks, dings, and hums. Needless to say, I was confused. I finally knocked and a lady confusedly poked her head out of the door.

"Oh! Is someone waiting?"
"Yes, I am."
"Oh! Okay. You go. I will go back in after."

I was puzzled until I realized that there was a bargain shelf in the actual bathroom. I am not sure what marketing model they are pursuing, but someone decided at some point to put a shelf of doo-dads into the bathroom and no one has apparently objected since.

Then I noticed the pheasant fascinator. My inconvenience was immediately legitimized and the universe restored its order.

Maybe someone could rig up a pheasant trap and DIY this?

party and the art of red pucker maintenance

2010-08-07T09:42:00.000-07:00

Black, white and red is my all-time favorite color combination.

Silver headband: H&M
Swan earrings: Forever 21
Vintage lace and sequin shell blouse: antique store
Polka dot skirt: H&M
Bow flats: Target

I wore this to a fundraising happy hour at my aunt's house. I feel terribly happy and awfully me in a vintage piece and pin-up lips.

Oh em gee! Scalloping!

Red lipstick, you may know, is a profound commitment. I use MAC Russian Red, and with it I am deeply obsessed. Thus, I am usually willing to enter into a behavioral contract with it for the duration of a day or evening. The terms include frequent touch ups, great care with drinks and food, and non-kissing of other humans.

Naturally, after a few hours and a few drinks some or all of these terms are tossed out the proverbial window. It is not uncommon for me to head home with pink lips after having forfeited the game. Silver lining: this is usually the sign of a splendid evening.

...there's no accounting for beer goggles, though. I spent most of the night flirting with this gentleman.

I discover a frock in the ruins

2010-08-04T13:56:00.000-07:00

The torrential, merciless rain in Chicago has forced me to dress like this the past few days.

True, I generally favor a more vintage-inspired wetsuit, but I can't argue with practicality. (Editor's note: wait, yes I can.)

The rain let up for a collective 48 seconds over the course of the day, at which point I donned this.

Butterfly necklace: thrifted
Vintage '70s dress: swapped with roommate
Belt: thrifted
Olive tights: Target
Oxford pumps: Baker's

I am living with my family right now, and we are trying to sell our house. This means that every day, I have to make my room look as if I don't exist. This is no simple task for a person who generally hurricanes through her closet in search of what to wear. My things are all tucked away in bins or boxes. Furthermore, I have been out of the house for a few years and it is difficult for me to remember which pieces of my wardrobe are still here and which have wandered to friends' homes or charity bags. This dress is one that I'd forgotten. I traded my lithe roommate a skirt for it years ago, and it has popped back into my life after a particularly exhaustive Rubbermaid raid. The thrill of the hunt is dwindling, so please buy my house.

A garment from my angsty phase

2010-08-02T17:49:00.000-07:00

This dress has known me for longer than any other piece in my closet has.

Headband: Wal-Mart
Vintage scarf: Grandma
Vintage dress: Garage sale
Miu Miu knockoff stacked pumps: Baker's
Vintage 60s frame bag: flea market, yesterday

I found this sucker at a garage sale in town the summer before my sophomore year of high school. It is the one item (besides perhaps random tank tops, tees and sports bras) that has seen me through the most. I am now a few weeks shy of 24, and I like to think that perhaps my life has changed since then.

Ways in which my dress has seen my life change:
* It has welcomed me home from Russia and Ukraine (although joined me in neither...SUITCASE JUSTICE!!!)
* It has seen my current hair length, a layered shoulder-length do, a bob and a pixie
* It is now paired with a beige armband to cover my ginormous tuberculosis IV
* Over the years it has become tighter or looser. Depends on the day.

Ways in which it remains unsurprised:
* I remain bumbling and awkward in front of gentlemen callers
* It knows about the Uggs in my closet (Author's note: Dude. Come on. I live in Chicago, you know? Sometimes I have to run and buy milk at 7-11, you know?)
* My income still cannot yet sustain much more than 50 cent garage sale dresses
* It still hears the 'Full House' opening credits playing intermittently from the television downstairs

True fact: my close up bust-up shot today looked so effing ridiculocioulious today that I am going to destroy my camera with a mallet and shove the broken pieces into a cobwebbed corner for all eternity so they can think about what they've done.

Until then, I'll enjoy debuting my new frame bag. I do wish that someone would go back in time and invent cell phone pockets in 1950. Perhaps I'm the girl for the job?

an abyss of items

2010-08-01T18:52:00.000-07:00

I once again failed to bend the weather by will alone, despite my decision to wear tights after I should have learned a valuable lesson from the blazer the day before.

Scarf: thrifted in Bloomington, Indiana
Dress: thrifted in Krivoy Rog, Ukraine
Wine Tights: Carson's
Booties: Madden Girl

To be frank, I wore this yesterday whilst antiquing, jug-wine-for-party-procuring and swimsuit shopping with Mary. Today, I am looking dull. I traveled to a faraway once-monthly flea with Colleen. As you may have guessed, the occasion for which the aforementioned jug wine was purchased somewhat compromised my sleeping schedule. This morning, I ran into the driveway to meet Colleen without my SPF 90+ completely rubbed in. I wore a 50 cent swimsuit coverup/possibly actual dress that I have owned forever. We wandered around the fairgrounds for hours. I found a perfect early '60s tan frame bag, about which I am psyched. I also eyed many odd items and wondered how one comes into some of the items we saw there. Personalized wishing stones? An atari? Teddy Ruxpin? A rusted-out wagon?

Still, I really, really love old things. I must admit to questioning the utility of some of the items at times. What human problem, for instance, is solved by the attainment of a palm-sized flowery dish? Is it for purposes of gifting, or something specifically sought out?

"Oh, perfect! Now I have somewhere to put my paper clips! And I've been carrying them around in my hands all this time like an idiot!"

That's probably just about how it goes down.

I don't actually have any paper clips. I have to hold paper together with my fingers, just like my ancestors did.

I wilt in the sun and long for more fabric

2010-07-30T16:19:00.000-07:00

In the dog-dead of summer, I find myself wishing like mad that layering season is approaching. I miss tights and jackets. My standards get more and more skewed. I wore this outfit out when it was in the low 80s, and though my pride is at stake I suppose I must admit that I was none too pleased when the sun beat down on my back.

Headband: H&M
Earrings: Forever 21
Necklace: gift
Cherry tank: Limited, circa 2001
Tuxedo jacket: H&M
Skirt: Carson's
Platforms: Steve Madden

The light was not on my side. The sun really offended me yesterday. I ultimately had to de-friend it on facebook.

A fuzzy, snorting guest star.

2010-07-29T07:24:00.000-07:00

I think Fiona may want to be a model.

Headband: Forever 21
Necklace: gift
Dress: vintage, thrifted
Tights: Forever 21
Flapper-y pumps: Seychelles, eBay

First, Fiona kept wandering into the frame. (To build her portfolio???) I suspect she's been purging her beggin' strips doggy treats. Then I saw a photo in Us Weekly of Fiona doing cocaine at the Midsummer Night's Dream party at the Playboy mansion. And she won't stop texting Pete Doherty.

Meanwhile, she was crushed she couldn't be in the close-ups.

...I don't quite know why this photo makes it look as if I'm squeezing my waist. That is an activity generally saved for those desperate moments in dressing rooms when I am trying to make a beautiful dress fit me by will alone.

I let Fiona send this one to Barbizon.

My shoes contain more wood than this entire forest.

2010-07-28T07:27:00.000-07:00

In light of yesterday's obvious realization regarding my animal need for some kind of headgear, I decided to forgo it. Naturally, I had to grab my head as promised immediately.

Scarf: vintage Ferragamo, from Grandma
Owl pendant: Forever21
Navy shift dress: thrifted
Gold leaf cuff: antique store
Jeffrey Campbell platforms

I took the photos at the edge of my local forest preserve. The neighbors were out and I assume that daily outfit photo shoots would be an odd sight indeed.

The shoes are Jeffrey Campbell, and are the tallest I've ever owned. I very nearly clear 6'4" in them. For perspective, consult the following photo:

That is me posing with basketball legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. I guess, in hindsight, I did find it a bit odd that he was mulling around a forest preserve in Illinois, but he wanted to be in the photo, you know?

My camera was dead and my mom obliged me by taking these photos on her iPhone. I missed the explosion of these devices whilst overseas, and was naturally inclined to fiddle around with it while in the passenger's seat. These doohickies are complicated. I am a bit surprised they stop short of chewing your food for you.

Fun fact: that is what my face looks like at rest.

Brain bedazzling

2010-07-27T10:58:00.000-07:00

I appear as if I am about to reprimand my shadow.

Feather flower headband: Forever 21
Shades: Target
Top: H&M
Vintage skirt: thrifted
Slingback heels: Target

...actually, I just wanted you to get the best view of the headband. It is very important, upon leaving one's house, to put something a bit batty upon one's head.

Indeed, I am usually driven to put something on my noggin. Those of you who read my blog back in '08 may remember my severe beret phase. Before that, I think I left the house in a headband or barrette so often that I had a permanent headache from the temple pinching. Now I am deeply enamored with fascinators and headbands with odd doodads hanging off of them.

I have thick, clunky hair that gets all up in my proverbial grill. All the time. Furthermore, I fidget like a felon. As you may imagine, these two issues collide in a most unsavory way, and I can easily be found spending an entire evening with my hands all over my head. Twirling, twisting, pushing, knotting, anything-ing. Perhaps adorning my head is my method of anchoring it so that I am less inclined to mess with my hair all the time.

...that, and it keeps the ideas from escaping.

A bicep is no place for an unnecessary accessory.

2010-07-26T10:52:00.000-07:00

Because it is summer, you have by now perhaps noticed that I wear an inexplicable severed sock on my arm.

Vintage fascinator: thrifted
Shades: Target
Butchered men's sock: Target
Vintage 50s dress: Etsy
Vintage Judith Lieber belt: from Grandma
Gold cuff: antique store
Booties: Madden Girl

I am NOT attempting to facilitate a comeback of the armband. That would be silly and would suggest that I perceived the armband to have ever been a fad in the first place. Actually, the tube sock covers a colossal IV port. Tuberculosis, you surly knave. Naturally, I need the tube socks to match my outfits.

...oh hey! Why don't I snap a photo directly under the sun???

FULL DISCLOSURE: There was totally nothing above my head. I just posed that way. See? That's acting. But I probably almost had you believing that I spotted a bee in a tuxedo. Probably a handsome one, which would explain my feigned sexyface.

Ladybirds of prey

2010-07-22T08:29:00.000-07:00

I am not a bird expert. Indeed, I cannot even remember the word for 'bird expert.' I believe it begins with an 'o,' but all I can think of is 'oncologist,' and I daresay that is actually a cancer expert. Orthopedist and oracle are likewise off the mark.

However, based on anecdotal evidence and something I think I may have read in a zoo once, I am inclined to believe that a certain subset of our feathered bros make their plumes tall and snazzy in order to say, "Hey, ladybirds, I am open to romantic suggestion! Hit up on this."

...and I, snatching my cue, have appropriated a more female homo sapian version.
"Hey, man-humans, check me out!"**

Feather headband: Forever 21
Shades: Target
Necklace: One of those trade show things with cheap jewelry
Dress: H&M
Cardigan: Target
Belt: vintage Judith Lieber
Slip: thrifted
Shoes: Target

**It should be noted, to all aspiring and professional not-oncologists-but-something-that-sounds-sort-of-like-it, that vertical plummage does not have the same enticing effect on humans that it does on birds.

A physical quandry

2010-07-18T21:13:00.000-07:00

I admire the ladies who are able to make this act look so much less awkward than it is.

Vintage fascinator: thrifted
Blouse: Forever 21
Belt: vintage Judith Lieber, from Grandma
Skirt: H&M
Slingbacks: Target

Really, how does one pose for an outfit photo? I have tried 'sly coquette,' but the jig is essentially up. This is a personal blog. I am obviously aware that the photo is being taken. Actually, my mom is probably taking it. I am probably saying something bitchy about her keeping her ubiquitous photo thumb out of the frame just before I thrust my shoulderblades back, stand up straight and freeze while jutting my best angle toward the camera. But that never feels like enough.

...so I pull out my best moves. "Why don't I lean against THE HOUSE?!?," I think to myself. "YES! That is what a girl in this outfit would do. And bring your knee up. And twist it to the side. Now, imagine there is something to your right that is competing for your attention. As if you don't even notice that your knee is popping or something, or is that just your kneecap shifting? My word, that thing just wiggles around when you push it! Hold on, what would I be smiling at to my right? A snake on a pogo stick? A buffet of skittles and cold cuts? Either, I suspect, would lead me to flirtatiously giggle whilst pushing the limits of my airborne, balanced knee as I balance against my house's foundation on a slingback heel. It is so natural, in fact, that I swear this shot was candid.

...Bad news, though. 100 people were polled about who rocked the fascinator look:

WHO WORE IT BETTER??????

Natasha, the author, 19%

Fiona the Pug, 81%

...and there you have it. The judges may not have been kind, but Lordy, were they fair.

He's from Estonia, and I think he's jive

2010-07-09T12:54:00.000-07:00

Encino Man gets my vote for the best terrible movie out there. That, and, my write-in vote for president.

For those of you who don't know, Encino Man is the harrowing tale of a two high school nerds, Pauly Shore and his friends, who hap upon the astoundingly well-preserved remains of a cro-magnon, Brendan Frasier, while digging in Pauly Shore's friend's backyard. The cro-magnon is so well-preserved, in fact, that it is actually still alive. This is suspect, of course - the implication is that Frasier was encapsulated in a thick layer of ice after the onslaught of the Ice Age and that this enabled him to remain alive, despite the fact that Pauly Shore and His Friend do not appear to have dug too deep into their Southern California property. Natch, they bring Frasier into Friend's home and convince Friend's family that Frasier is an exchange student from Estonia. After a scene in which Frasier does wild caveman things, makes a mess, and threatens to get Friend totally grounded, the boys decide to clean him up and bring him to high school. The cro-magnon makes them popular and ultimately gets voted Prom King.

In any event, returning from a developing nation and re-entering the blogosphere sort of makes me feel like Encino Man. I have to re-learn how to use the internet. I don't know what an RSS feed is. There are so many fun and exciting new avenues by which to be narcissistic. Brands of shoes of which I was to this point unawares. And fanciness! Everything is fancy. And what the hell is tumblr?

I will be re-educating myself to whatever degree that I can. Until then, I will never leave the house naked - as evidenced by this ensemble, which took me to lunch.

Fascinator: vintage, eBay
Scarf: vintage, from Grandma
Earrings: thrifted
Dress: Target
Belt: vintage, from Grandma
Flats (not shown - Target)

How to tell a story.

2010-07-07T15:04:00.000-07:00

There is a point at which a story gets too long to tell.

I am no liar. My last post was written a little less than two years ago, and I announced a.) that I was off to the Peace Corps and b.) that I knew I'd be back. I am happy to make good on both.

You'll ask me how it was. It was amazing. The 1.5 years I spent in Ukraine number among the best in my life. Narrating the Peace Corps experience would be a long, long story indeed.

The difficult story to tell, though, isn't about the Peace Corps - it is about what happened afterward, and why I left.

While living and working in Ukraine, a walk away from the Russian border, I contracted a very rare and serious form of tuberculosis. I am on heavy drug therapy. I was quarantined for two months, spent weeks in the hospital, and underwent two surgeries to remove the part of my lung scarred by the disease. This is the shortest version of the story I can tell.

It is odd to see people from previous walks of life, because they are kind. They ask how I am doing. If they are very distant acquaintances, they ask, "weren't you in Russia?" Even more distant, they might ask what I've been doing since high school.

And I never know what to say. I don't know how much to explain, or where to begin. It usually depends on who asks. What mood I'm in.

For now, I am on the upswing. My mind has been riddled with TB for a while now, and I missed decorating myself with silly, pretty things.

Writers are often advised to begin a story in the middle. Here I am, though it feels like a beginning, too. I started the way most of us do. I am back in Chicago, I feel better, and despite a long road of treatment ahead I am going to live and prosper. And I'll have to dress the part.

Wearing this, I walked around the city I love - Chicago - for the first time in a very long time. I papered the town with my resume. I began again.

Shades: Target
Black Blazer: H&M
Rose brooch: Forever21
Blue blouse: H&M
Black and white dress: DKNY, thrifted
Blue polka dot peep toes: Irregular Choice
Vintage 60s bag: thrifted

...I am excited to restart my blog. It will be about style, but it will be about standing up too.

...oy.

2008-09-24T19:49:00.001-07:00

So, clearly I haven't posted in a while. I meant to, but having a full-time babysitting job and spending time in friends' basements is ultimately not conducive to piecing outfits together. Furthermore, I am finally leaving for Ukraine tomorrow and have made peace with the fact that style is a hobby I cherish but will have to give up for the next two years. I will be working as a volunteer with a very limited living stipend, working on projects in my community, and living off of a single suitcase of mixable-matchable clothing. I will miss it, but I am very happy. I had a wonderful summer - I had lots of time with people I love and even stowed money away for my vacation time abroad.

I have started a new blog at www.natinukraine.blogspot.com where I will chronicle my experiences in the Peace Corps.

Thank you to all who have read this blog. I loved writing it and your websites, comments and creativity have been a delight. Fashion, clothes and style are not things that fit too seamlessly into my life now, but I know I'll be back.

All the best, and all my love!

A horse of another color

2008-07-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

My summer has been so depressing fashionwise. I have a full-time job babysitting, and even the most impassioned fashionista would have trouble rationalizing a well-conceived outfit to cart two preschoolers around to parks, swimming lessons and gymnastics all day. Still, I did manage to sneak off to the horse races with friends on Sunday in this.

Beret: shop in San Francisco
Shades: Forever21
Blazer: thrifted
Brooch on blazer: Forever21
Striped tee: Gap
Belt: thrifted
Skirt: thrifted
Platforms: Steve Madden
Vintage frame bag: Antique store

I am a bit obsessed with the shoes. I bought them on sale at Steve Madden. I was a bit on the fence about them until I realized that the black leather combined with the brown heel means that I can comfortably pair them with both black and brown.

They initially caught my eye because they seem to channel these Chloe lovelies, which I adore.

A mini adventure in Asian Vogues

2008-07-05T19:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it is fun to visit fashion websites or blogs in languages you cannot read, and simply click on things until you find pictures you like. Such was the case today as I wandered through the sites of Vogue Nippon (Japan,) Vogue Taiwan and Vogue India (though the Vogue India site is actually in English.)

Many features actually cross over internationally - trend reports and celebrity fashion features, for instance. But I did manage to find some street style stars on the Taiwan and Japan editions.

...But I got most excited upon my discovery of an Indian designer I had never heard of named Rohit Bal, who apparently is rather well-known internationally and I just may be the last gushy fashion fiend to hear about him. His latest fashion show in New Dehli was so delightfully wacky. He mught actually be my hero. The metallic gowns are made of actual metal - an interweaving of eight types of metal including copper and - get this - gun metal. Gun metal. As in, there exists in life the opportunity to wear a dress that enjoyed a former life as a freaking weapon. I want to, like, walk my dog in it.

Fierce.

Zoo'd

2008-06-30T13:32:00.000-07:00

It was so pretty out today, so my boyfriend and I decided to take a little trip to the zoo. It was breezy, sunny and crowded. I was excited to whip up a day outfit, because I have been lounging around and reading a heck of a lot during the day and haven't worn much more than sweatpants before 9pm all week. Usually I'd pair an outfit like this with heels, but heels at the zoo seemed a bit whacky. Trust me, I looked kooky enough.

Grey beret: Paris flea market
Aqua necklace: Another Paris market
Fushia top: thrifted
Bright blue belt: thrifted
Ruffled skirt: Forever21
Vintage 60s frame bag: antique store
Grey knee socks: Target
Black flats: Target

The necklace was only about $3, and it is large and gaudy. These are two of my favorite style adjectives.

"Wolf Woods" contained no wolves, except for a few behind a fence. But they were so far away that they looked like normal dogs anyhow.

...there were animals too.

I realized I have never given you a glimpse of Mike, my boyfriend and trusty photographer. He is a great sport, because I hardly imagine that he much enjoys taking self-indulgent photos of me and I don't think he really wanted me to take this photo of him. He is actually moving to Turkmenistan when I move to Ukraine, at which point we'll part for our respective Peace Corps jaunts.

...and I couldn't resist acting like a damn toddler for a moment on the way to the car.

I WILL POLLENATE THE CRAP OUT OF YOU.