Cocooning and adjusting and reflecting these last few days against the backdrop of a cataclysmic rainstorm here in Vancouver and through British Columbia’s Lower Mainland, the roads and rail lines to the province’s interior severely damaged, numerous communities evacuated as infrastructure (wastewater plants, for example) was overwhelmed by the flooding. . .
My complaints about travel hassles (cancelled flight — replacement no longer direct but requiring a connection that added five or six hours in transit; both replacement flights packed to the proverbial gills) pale in comparison. So mostly, I set them aside and concentrated on dentist appointment, flu-shot appointment, doctor’s appointment to check on a possible UTI that caused me some grief and anxiety over the last ten days of our trip. Catching up on my Italian homework for Saturday’s class, knitting garments for a birthday girl’s little mouse (the mouse I knit in four countries, bathed and stuffed back home. . .
Getting my sleep rhythms sorted (still working on that: 7.5 hours last night, if punctuated every two or three hours by a wakeful five or ten minutes); grateful bingeing on the fruits and vegetables and whole grains that I missed while bingeing on wine and cheese and pasta ai funghi. . . .
And gratefully pulling old favourites (and new! My yellow boots!) from my closet, the change in choices very welcome after three weeks of dressing from a carry-on case, especially as temperatures have dropped noticeably over that time.
Not that I was unhappy with that limited wardrobe. For the most part, I was content with what I packed, especially since that capsule wardrobe got me through three weeks in which the weather ranged from a high of 26 C (on our hike near Rome the Sunday before last) to Paris’s just-above-freezing walks back to our hotel after dinner last week.
In fact, contentment with what I have (the New Year’s resolution I borrowed from a colleague, way back in 2008) was an unexpected bonus of travelling light. Not only was I able to board trains more easily and walk from stations to hotel more comfortably (preferable, for me — barring weather and safety issues — to grabbing a taxi, for getting a better sense of where I am, of what a city is like). But I also made a deliberate point, in packing, of including clothes I hadn’t had much opportunity to wear over the past year and a half of Covid restrictions, clothes that I’d loved when I bought — and still do love — but somehow hadn’t worked into my regular life.
Next post, I’ll tell you a bit more about that, but here’s an illustration.
This dress was a last-minute switch in my packing. Not obviously a practical one, but this coup de foudre purchase from Fall 2020 wasn’t getting out as much as it deserves (see me questioning the purchase, but also wearing it last Christmas season, in this post). Turns out that with tights, the cashmere-silk was a great transitional piece, light enough that I could wear it on a sunny evening for aperitivo on a Turin terrace. . . . and then with my old leather jacket, a cashmere scarf, beret and gloves, it was just about warm enough for those cold walks back to the hotel after dinner.
You might be surprised to know that I wore this dress at least five days in the three weeks. Not bad for something that only weighs a few ounces and, rolled, takes scarcely any suitcase space. I hand-washed it on Monday, laid it flat to dry — with some trepidation, against the label’s instructions, but my experience with fibres and textiles convinced me this would be okay, and I avoid dry-cleaning whenever possible. It’s hanging up in my closet now, having proved its worth for everyday wear as well as more festive occasions.
Of course, the stalwart in my capsule wardrobe was the Vince jeans
which I snapped on the way down to breakfast in our hotel on the Aventine hill. Funny, the more I wear these, the less I find myself craving novelty or variety, and the more I appreciate the neat serviceability of this classic combo — and the story that’s being recorded in the denim with each move I make. And I appreciate that I could wear these as often as I did in three weeks and not wash them once. Yes, the knees have bagged out a little by the end, as you see here, but washing our clothes as often as we tend to is a habit we need to change, for the good of the planet.
That cataclysmic rainstorm I mentioned, one of so many events clearly linked to climate change — as was this past summer’s heatwave here — is a huge motivator to think more about slowing down our fashion consumption. So, for me, were the many, many unfortunates we walked past daily. One older man (our age? or just prematurely aged by a tough life) had discreetly staked out a living area on a spot just off the path we walked each day in Rome, down the Aventine hillside So moving (and, honestly, shaming: how reconcile my privilege with his lack of shelter, of basics) to see a few of his garments hung to dry on a makeshift clothesline he’d fashioned from a branch.
The fellow with the thick head of curly hair . . . whose smile revealed no compunctions about his numerous missing teeth . . . who kept his sleeping gear (cardboard sheets, thin camping mattress, two or three slightly grimy but still colourful quilts) neatly folded and stacked into a pile he sat on to read in front of the Emme piú supermarket we passed on the way to dinner (I couldn’t finish my pizza one evening, and the server insisted on packing it up for me to take away — passing our gap-toothed friend, I thought to offer it to him, and the next day he extolled its culinary merits (the prosciutto was a big hit!). I’m not sure what kind of arrangement he’d made with the supermarket management, but his presence there was constant over our ten-day visit, even the night of the cloudburst that soaked us, paid our umbrellas no mind. . . And regularly we’d see him sweeping the entire storefront sidewalk footage, so I’m sure he valued cleanliness and order. But I know he couldn’t have been washing his clothes often, can’t even imagine how he could manage that through the winter.
So I figure I can at least be even more mindful about my own laundry habits.
And I have to say, even after two weeks travel, a long plane ride and two days on a train, these jeans look pretty decent against that big old tapestry, the patterned marble floor, the baroque carving around that mirror. . . . Don’t you think?
I’ll tell you in an upcoming post what else I packed and how surprisingly practical some potentially impractical pieces turned out to be.
But for now, I need to get my bread made before a 12:30 appointment, so I’ll just tell you quickly, what I’ve happily reached into my closet for this week. Photo at the top of this post: On repeat, this oatmeal sweater (from Aritzia, a few years ago) is remarkably comfortable, and I don’t even mind that it looks it. Elbows are in the process of being, shall we say, creatively mended. The skinny (higher-waisted) jeans are Madewell, also a few years old, almost given away last year, but I’m a bit smaller than I was then and I appreciate the skinny legs during our rainy season when they tuck neatly into boots instead of soaking up puddles. In the outfit in the photo, though, the cuffs are pulled over the top of my new Fluevog boots, purchased here in Vancouver before travel.
And below: Thick black cashmere turtleneck (Vince) — I was so tempted to take this with me, but it’s too bulky and too warm for most of the weather we had. This week, in the damp cold of single-digit C. temperatures, it’s exactly what I need. And to match the comfort of a thick cashmere sweater? Plush corduroy pants, obviously, and the comfort is further enhanced by the slouchy fit, the generous pockets, the rich colour. Feeling grateful here!
Grateful to be back where my slippers live. Glerups, felted wool slippers keeping my feet warm for six or seven years, and showing scarcely any wear at all. Slow Fashion, for the win (okay, calling boot-slippers “fashion” is a stretch, but maybe stretching’s exactly what we need when it comes to thinking about our wardrobe, about what it pleases our bodies to wear).
Evidently, these ruminations on What I Wore and What I Wear reflect my age. The comfort of slippers, of forgiving waists, of old, worn-in sweaters with patched elbows are an older woman’s pleasures, perhaps. But I feel some connections with my younger self, who loved clothes, yes, but was also impatient with thinking too much about them when stuffing a backpack. . . . and also, if some of my ruminations reflect my age, let’s say there’s as much “wisdom of experience” in that age as there is “fatigue of the body.” Further, this older woman is saying, we can have Slower Fashion and enjoyment of Style’s aesthetic pleasures as well. Cliché though it may be, I found something along the lines of More with Less over these past few weeks and am happily, for now, Wanting what I Have.
As the saying (famously attributed to Churchill, Mark Twain, Blaise Pascal. . . all the way back to Cicero, in fact) goes, “If I’d had more time, I would have written less.” But I’ll stop here and leave the mic for you. Leave a comment, would you, or just wave my way. Thanks for reading.
xo,
f
Love that cream Aritzia sweater, Frances. And equally how you describe it. How wonderful that the anticlimax of returning home from travel… jet lag, the oh no it’s over feeling, a house that needs cleaning (my least fav part of homecoming) … can be punctuated with gratitude for a whole other wardrobe that was just waiting for your return. I love when a small, well-planned travel wardrobe comes together.
I think the image of that man’s small clothesline of drying laundry will stay with me. Good to have these reminders of how undeservedly lucky we are. I won’t say blessed. That word, to me implies, that we have somehow been chosen for privilege. When it’s only the birth lottery more often than not.
Thanks goodness the internet has bloggers like you who can keep us grounded, instead of hyped up on the desire for more and more stuff!
I like the distinction you make between “blessed” and “undeservedly lucky.” Often I have been vaguely uncomfortable when I see references to being blessed. Your distinction helped me understand the roots of my discomfort.
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Isn’t that a good distinction she makes, Roxann?! I agree wholeheartedly.
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Thanks for the kind and encouraging words, Sue. And like Roxann, I’m struck by the felicitous distinction you make between feeling blessed and being undeservedly lucky. I remember you writing some time ago about the “birth lottery”you and Stuart became aware of through your travels.
We are very lucky!
Lovely post Frances and it’s great to see you happy and relaxed. Travel is good but so is being home, where one’s slippers, books and other special things reside. Your cashmere silk dress is gorgeous. Dresses can be so easy – one piece, no need to match tops to bottoms, great for travelling and perfect no-fuss dressing at home. The Vince jeans and black turtleneck are a classic combination and the yellow boots are fabulous. I’ve carried a chartreuse handbag regularly over the last 3 or maybe 4 years, which is wearing well and certainly adds a welcome pop of colour to many outfits. I think you’ll find the same with your boots. Now that we’re out of lockdown I too am enjoying wearing things I’ve not had occasion to wear for a couple of years, including two purchases made in early 2020, which are finally coming into their own.
My heart went out to the homeless fellow in Rome. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to reconcile why some people have so much and so many others nowhere near enough. Very kind of you to give him the pizza.
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Oooh, chartreuse is such an intriguing colour to add subtle drama to so many shades.
It’s funny — I read once a biography Georgia O’Keeffe kept her purchases for a year before using/wearing them — a very considered shopper. And then, like you, I ended up waiting over a year to really wear things I purchased just before or during our Just Stay Home time. . . less considered than Georgia maybe and imposed rather than chosen, but a good test of the sustainability of our purchasing style: Will we still love our purchases or find them useful at least a year from now? Five years even better. . . or ten, or twenty. . .
I don’t know that it was kind to give him the pizza as we were unlikely to eat it the next day in our hotel room, but it did require reaching out a bit to ask him if he’d like it and he really seemed to appreciate being seen or recognized and we had an enjoyable, brief conversation.
You have hit the sweet spot in style, casual and elegant with a touch of funk to keep things interesting. Love, love your dress. I need something along similar lines to fill the gap left by culling my wardrobe on retirement. Isn’t it good that cords are back in fashion therefore available again. I have a yen for a pair in a pumpkin shade, which is a project for next year as we are heading into Summer here in southern Australia. I am also a fan of travelling light, it’s so much easier. I’m also reverting to my younger habits and reducing the number of clothes in my every day wardrobe.
We are hoping to travel to Italy again late next year, with luck to do the design tour in Milan which was cancelled in 2020, then onto Malta to visit family.
Incidentally, if you are interested in Italian TV shows there are two we enjoyed recently. Made in Italy, is set in Milan about a young woman who begins work at a fashion magazine in the early 1970s. It’s generally light in tone but doesn’t ignore the darker side of Italy during that period. A highlight of each episode is a vignette of an Italian designer of the period using original footage. The second show is Masantonio. A quirky mystery series set in Genoa about a two man unit investigating the fate of missing people.
Along with many others I am ashamed of the abysmal response of our federal government on climate change. However one positive is that our state governments of both political stripes, along with many large corporations recognise the issue and that we can’t continue to pollute the planet.
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Pumpkin cords, yes!! Mine are somewhere between mango, pumpkin, and curry.
Thank you so much for the recommendations of Italian TV shows. I’ll have to see if I can find them available for viewing here.
I think the momentum is building such that those political dinosaurs who ignore or respond too slowly to climate change will be swept away. Can only hope. . .
Love the yellow boots & the pattern on that frock is gorgeous. How well you have styled it too . You would caught some admiring glances in Turin I imagine .Those Italian women have real flair .
When I encounter homeless people I always wonder how they came to be in that position. Books like Nomadland & The Saltpath are eye openers .
I’m glad your trip went well despite the odd hiccup & I hope the rains ease off soon .
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Thanks so much for the kind words, Wendy! Funny, I thought the dress would be trickier to style given the mix of fabrics and colours and print, but simple seems best. Might try it with knee boats as well. . .
I agree that books and films that explore homelessness help fill in some of the blanks about how individuals come to be living without shelter or any sense of home. They restore some of the humanity to figures that have become distressingly easy for us to walk past, our eyes determinedly forward. . .
I am glad you are home safe and sound, I was concerned with all the flooding and devastation I saw on the news. I do like the idea of wearing a sweater over a dress, making it a skirt and thus extending it’s usefulness. I think my go to uniform is similar to what you are wearing, jeans, a sweater interesting boots, perhaps a scarf. My jeans , the newest pairs, are probably 1o years old. I have ones that are even older! And perhaps 15 years ago, when I was still working as a psychologist I splurged and bought myself 5 cashmere sweaters, I still wear them on a regular basis. usually with the jeans. I have over the years since then purchased a few more. It’s a “uniform” that can go most places, at least the in my world. even my boots, some of them, are years old, taken to the cobblers when needed. I volunteer at an animal shelter and walk the dogs a few mornings a week. the neighborhood is not mine. is a combination of retail and industrial, with some quite rundown areas. I seem to have become friendly with a man I see frequently combing the dumpsters behind the Target, we will exchange a cherry hello and maybe a few words. I suppose we are both recycling, he discarded objects which to him have a worth and for me the animals who have been discarded, trying to give them a second chance. I seem to have stayed from fashion but your post made me think of this.
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Thanks, Darby. We’re safe here, but there’s been so much damage, homes, farms, infrastructure — and above all, lives lost. After the summer’s devastating wildfires. . .
I like wearing a sweater over a dress too, but this dress is actually a single piece with knit fabric to the waist, woven below. . .
Such a classic look, jeans and cashmere sweater, a luxurious uniform, really. And having boots or shoes that are good enough to be worth repair, that are so well molded to our feet with the years, another luxury indeed.
I love your notion of the recycling you and the dumpster-comber are doing. Important work that restores dignity to what others have discarded.
Very nice
I’m so sorry about the flooding and rainstorms…all the catastrophes….and than, it was so connected to the homeless people….so many stories and one asks oneself how things can happen,slowly… or even in a minute…
To the nicer part: your dress is gorgeous and you look amazing indeed! I love a combination of a silk (or viscose) dress and a sweater and boots,it was one of my favourite winter outfits for theatre (when we still visited theatres…dystopian,no?)
I admired your art of dressing from carry-on and be elegant when we first met…and still do so!
Loving what we have,not yearning all the time for something new is the way to go and act
I dress nowdays like from carry-on at home, uniform like,because it is always something that dictates the directions: if I’ll have coffee with someone,it must be something like down coat and trousers,to sit on a terrace for a while,if I go for the walk and combine some errands together,there must be walking boots (not so happy and lovely as your yellow ones!)
My trip to Vienna was an occasion to dress nicely (it was first time that I even took second,nicer, bag for the evening as well) . From Monday they are in complete lock down again
There are so many things that I still enjoy and feel happy and thankful for
Dottoressa
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It’s true, Dottoressa, so many stories. . . and how?!
Thanks for the kind and flattering words.
What you say about the dressing at home being uniform-like — I relate to this, there’s always something practical that dictates the choice. If I’m walking (which I usually do), then shoes and the bag must be a backpack, and the coat needs pockets, etc. . .
You know how happy I am that you got to Vienna again — and with an evening bag yet! Festive!! (and you squeezed under that wire with lots of time to spare before the lockdown)
Yes , last minute!
Same feelings about your visit to Rome! Lucky us
D.
What a lovely workhorse your dress turned out to be! I’m not always as disciplined a packer as you are, although I aspire to be. I did always, however, amaze my friends at an annual writers’ conference by managing to pack for an event-heavy week in a carry on every year. Spreadsheets were my friend in that particular endeavor. Easy to see when you’ve got a pair of shoes that are only going to be worn once, and to rethink things.
I’ve just pulled out the LLBean slipper boots that my husband picked up for me in 2015 or 2016 while on a cross-country road trip with his brother, and am happy to report they’re in fine shape, ready for another winter of cozy feet. Slow fashion indeed.
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Isn’t that funny, that it could turn out to be a workhorse? Certainly surprised me!
I’m not disciplined at packing either — had a whole plan two weeks before we left and then jettisoned it for some goofy impulses a day or two before takeoff — and luckily they played out well. I don’t do a spreadsheet but I scrawl a page at the beginning of that trip’s travel journal and I do try to figure out combinations. Managing a carry-on for a week-long conference (many events, seeing same people numerous times) is tricky — I find that amazing, along with your friends 😉
Cozy feet in Portugal — you know you’re living the good life, right?
xo
Thank you so much for this post. I too have been thinking about the water consumption used by laundering as often and vowing to make some changes. Lots of my reasons for laundering have to do with cooking and related spills and spatters. I’ve resurrected an old, generously sized apron and am trying to remember to wear it in the kitchen. What a useful item! Why did I ever tuck it away years ago?
I have been gradually shrinking the contents of my closet and finding that it is no hardship to have fewer items. In fact, I like it lots better for many reasons. A few basics along with some accessories that I love are increasingly all I want and need. I admire the dress in your photos and the black sweater and jeans–both comfortable-looking and stylish.
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What a good simple and old-fashioned solution! Back to the future!
And when we do that, we can also purloin the past for our mother’s and grandmother’s solutions to laundry, before personal washing machines and dryers (here in North America at least) became ubiquitous and allowed us not to think too much about washing after one wear. . . .
Lovely post, Frances! And it was so wonderful to catch up with you and Paul over a Paris dinner.
What a great travel piece your dress turned out to be, and pushes back against the notion that standout pieces can’t be versatile. I was also happier with my latest travel wardrobe than I’ve been in some time (even though I probably could have cut back further), and glad that I pushed myself to include more color and pieces I hadn’t worn often at home.
I really like those Vince jeans on you too.
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I think that was the best takeaway from travelling with this dress, Sue, and with another couple of pieces I’ll write about in my next post — they can actually fit into regular wear better than I’d imagined. Which expands my wardrobe possibilities and thus scratches the itch for variety 😉
Thanks re the jeans. I love seeing the way the dark indigo gradually creases faded lines into the denim.
I know you did not visit London on this trip, but do you have a hotel near the city centre that you prefer? We are plotting a trip next September and have never visited London (or England, for that matter).
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Kristine, we haven’t been to London for a few years, but we’ve stayed quite a few times at the Alhambra Hotel which is very close to St. Pancras/King’s Cross. It’s a budget-friendly, well-run by the family who owns it, very clean option that is conveniently located, but if you’re looking for more space or luxury, it might not be for you. We’ve always been able to book a room with toilet and shower in the room, but many rooms share toilet/bath facilities down the hall — a boon to find such a possibility for a motivated budget traveller, but not everyone’s cup of tea. They used to do wonderful full English breakfasts in the basement dining room, line-ups waiting up the stairs for the next empty table, marvellously ordered bustle. Sadly, it appears that’s had to fall victim to Covid-19 regulations, but I see they now offer an optional boxed breakfast. How exciting to be planning a first-time trip to London!!
What a lovely post and so thoughtful and evocative. I love your sweaters and cords, and how nice to come home at just the perfect time to be reacquainted. And I am thrilled that your gorgeous dress proved to be so versatile. I think that is something getting out of our normally small milieu does as well: travel from carry on, travel at all, even lockdown. I’ve noticed that I during lockdown I watched far more television and movies from other countries, other parts of the world, and one of the first things I noticed, and still observed is that people dress differently in other places, even other “western” cities. Of course shows are styled, but those choices are different.
All this has helped me to look at my closet differently. Travel, when I began again did the same, also because of the imperative to live out of carry on, especially as a woman traveling alone. And now due to a drop in weight, I have just eliminated 2/3 of my wardrobe in one huge session of trying-on. I am sure more will go, and a few things will arrive. My weight is stable now, but my dimensions are still shifting as I increase my activity after having weathered a small health crisis. What I am finding is that some “standout” pieces are more versatile than I might have thought they would be, and some “basics” prove not to be so versatile after all.
I love this idea of living with less: fewer things, fewer loads of wash, less waste. And also, using less seems to give us more time to notice what is around us, perhaps even to offer someone pizza and to have conversations that once we would have missed, oblivious. Well, I am sure you are rarely oblivious, but we are all too often stressed.
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Late responding here, sorry.
Yours is an interesting insight — many of us have had a different and perhaps more extended, if distanced, view of the world while we’ve been “locked down” to whatever extent. And more time to think about how we want to be, or to act, in it, perhaps? So for many of us, that is likely to be manifest in our closet eventually.
And your last paragraph’s observations — yes, if we’re less caught up in what we have and what we use and what we think we need, perhaps we’ll be freed to look around and engage differently. Thank you.
You always look so comfortable in your clothing. Never fussy, but stylish enough and clearly content with your appearance. Must admit that ‘comfort’ is the top requirement for my clothing and shoes.
Add me to the list of folks who agrees with Sue’s assertion of being “undeservedly lucky.”
I’ve been very carefully shaking out and hanging up clothes that have only been lightly worn (no spills) at the end of each day to avoid over-washing. Helps that I don’t wear scent/perfume. Anything that needs a little airing sits on the line for a bit on nice days. Down to one load a week of my clothing.
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Again, sorry for the tardiness and thanks for stopping to comment (and for the kind words).
One load a week is still only a goal for me, so Brava! (My machine has options for small loads and I use those for delicates, whites, darks, etc.)
I greatly enjoyed reading this post. It was beautifully written and your descriptions of the homeless men and your reaction to them moved me. I also think your wardrobe is fabulous – just the right mix of funky and interesting, with quality fabrics and a sense of personal fun (while not sacrificing comfort).
The ideas here are very close to my own personal philosophy. I grew up with a frugal mother and a father who was terminally ill, so money for luxuries was relatively scarce (although we were never poor). I wore hand-me-downs and we sewed, knitted and made do. It was just fine, really, apart from a bit of teasing from schoolmates over a few of my fashion quirks. As a teenager I loved going down to Queen Street West in Toronto to shop the vintage stores. In university, I would buy second-hand clothes and modify them (men’s blazers would have scrap leather patches sewn on them, etc.). Friends would offer to buy the clothes from me from time to time. This was a great foundation for where I am in life now, which I didn’t realize at the time. I took up sewing again about ten years ago and, coupled with my knitting (which I never stopped doing, often ripping out old sweaters and re-knitting the yarn), I tend to wear many garments made by me, often using recycled materials.
That said, I am no angel. I have always loved clothes and certainly bought way too many new ones in my thirties and forties (not to mention yarn and fabric, without knowing the provenance in all cases). In recent years I’ve reverted to practices that are much closer to those of my youth. I am very privileged to be able to travel to Italy often given my partner’s home in Florence. The only suit I have acquired in a number of years now I had made by a lady tailor (sarta) I know there. Likewise, my autumn boots I had made by a cobbler from Le Marche. I don’t need more things, because I love and care for the things I own. I sew my own shirts and make my own sweaters. This is an incredible privilege, but I also think that conscious consuming (which I think is what you are espousing, in the end), is the way to go. We can’t fully abstract from the enormous privilege we have by virtue of our birth and the opportunities provided to us to live so comfortably in a country like Canada, but we can appreciate what we have and use our belongings well.
I could go on and on (obviously!), but this is just to say that this post is appreciated. I spent the last few days shopping my own closet as I try to figure out what I will wear for Christmas. I am able to return to Italy to be with my partner again for only the second time in two years (given the pandemic). I have settled on a red dress I made myself with a vintage Pucci pattern a few years back. Although your lovely dress had me thinking of a piece of fabric I have in a bin that would make a lovely dress to wear at Christmas, too. Thank you!
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Thanks Stephanie and sorry it’s taken me a while to respond. I’m delighted you enjoyed the post this much!
So much in your post resonates — the restricted budget in childhood, youth, young adulthood that creates habits and trains for creative solutions especially. And then being armed with skills that we can continue to use lifelong. . .
And yes, you are very privileged, very fortunate in your deep connection with Italy and all that means for your wardrobe — I can admit to envy, right? Christmas in Italy in a red dress!!
I love what you did with that dress!
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Thank you! xo
Really enjoyed this post (and love watching your IG account)! Are those Vince Jeans the ‘tomboy’ ones? I love those corduroy pants you photoed but don’t think I could pull them off. Thanks for letting us travel with you!
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Thanks, Sally! I got these jeans four years ago and I don’t see them on the Vince site now. They’re not the tomboy, but maybe that’s the closest. Mine are cropped, a heavy denim, almost no stretch, were dark indigo when I bought them so all the fading came from wear. Might be a bit wider than the tomboy, and the bottom isn’t hemmed, but rather stitched so that it’s frayed half an inch at the bottom.
Just catching this post now as it didn’t arrive in my mailbox as it ought to have. So glad you linked to it in your Paris windows post so that I didn’t miss it! Your thoughts on privilege and slower fashion are very much appreciated. I’m presently in the middle of a “More with Less” exercise of sorts. For an entire month, I’m wearing only six items from my closet. Socks, underwear, pyjamas, workout wear, footwear, and outerwear are not included in the six and unlimited accessories are permitted. My six pieces include three tops, two pairs of pants, and one cardigan. Boring? Yes, but also enlightening. There are pieces in my closet that I miss; that I find myself yearning to put on in the morning, but there are others that don’t call out to me at all. In fact, I’ll probably do another closet purge when this is over and move some of those ones out.
I love your outfit in the first photo. The cream coloured sweater and jeans look so comfortable and the pop of yellow in the boots is such a nice touch. Then there’s the photo of you seated. That one is simply gorgeous!
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Exercises like yours are worthwhile for helping us glimpse some of the baggage we carry around clothing, I think. This notion of a limited wardrobe boring us, for example. Where did this expectation come from, that clothes should entertain? And how much should it hold sway? How do we find a balance? Etc. . . .
Thanks for the kind words about those What I Wore photos. Honestly, they’re never easy to post 😉