Calvin Klein Hand-Me-Down Dreams
Calvin Klein circa 1994. Ah, remember this? Well, if you don't, don't even worry because everyone is dressing like this circa right fucking now.
In 1994, I remember being a nine year old wearing crazy colored turtlenecks under everything (dresses, t-shirts, other sweaters) largely because my mom still dominated my closet choices/purchases, but mostly because I was nine.
Despite this age, I remember I was starting to feel like the colorful clothes didn't reflect me and I yearned for something more minimal. My mom had some awesome outfits in her arsenal back then and even though I loved dressing exactly like her when I was a kid, I noticed that my clothes were adorably kids clothes no matter how much I tried to look older. Still! I loved the idea of wearing black at a young age, but even then it was seen as such a taboo — as if other parents would judge my mother's choices to allow her young innocent daughter to wear such a dark color. Is she into Marilyn Manson music from satan?!
This collection is not only memorable for me as a kid because it was so iconically laid back, but because all of my favorite celebrities were wearing this type of slouchy minimal palette — Winona Ryder, Kate Moss, Kirsten Dunst, Julia Stiles, Sarah Michelle Geller, etc. And I wanted to be just like them! Not like my colorful classmates in elementary school who didn't know better with their Lisa Frank sensibilities and simple minds! I had real problems to keep track of at home with my mom. I was her co-pilot, helping her navigate the English-only world of post-divorce poordom, so that may have been another reason I felt so distant and unrelatable to anyone at school. They were chatting 90210 and how hot some dude on the show was, and I was consoling my mom through one of her migraines probably induced by the debilitating stress of having to pay such bills and raise three kids largely on her own. So I did what I could with my clothes. I worked what I could and took copious mental notes (I should have invented blogging back then because I feel like I was still doing this type of documentation of what I love even then) so I could take advantage when my dad came over once in a while and took me clothes shopping to the mall.
There was one problem; for some reason this deceptively simple wardrobe was outrageously expensive. I couldn't understand why a simple pair of jeans with this "CK" mans name were so much money, but I knew that if I wore these logo clothes they'd somehow imprint me with a sort of status and cred, making me untouchable in a way. Clothes had the power to do that and I wanted in — or more specifically, a way out of the poor monotony of what I had at the time, and a way to look as old as I felt at the time. But that meant that unless I was getting these super-cool Calvin Klein-esque hand-me-downs from my brothers and other male family friends, or unless these items were magically on the racks at Old Navy, then there was no fucking way I was going to be this cool in 1994.
Ok, so let's zoom forward to 2016, and as a 30-year old I look back at this collection with the nostalgia that even though this couldn't be mine, and I couldn't wear any of it, this collection served as motivation for the future me. That sounds so cheesy, but people, it's beyond just a cheesy metaphor because it was my real life experience as a kid. This collection signified what I couldn't have, and I made a decision to have it and other nice things in my life and so I worked hard to make it happen. So thank you Calvin Klein for this beautiful, materialistic, and painful motivator to work hard and get out: get out of my situation of sad depressing poorness, out of the small town feel of where I lived, and out of the materialism and superficialness that I think I willfully missed out on so I could worry about more adult things.
source: vogue
About An Hour : August 2016
Another month and a half has gone by since my last playlist and I have to say that this one took forever to put together because I was just not feeling the mix. I like to create a playlist each month that is pleasing from start to finish, without having to skip songs. I think I finally found the right combination again with this one. I think you should check it out!
Listen to my About An Hour playlist here
All other songs are being archived here in All The Time.
Go With Olya
The colors! The details! The compositions!
This makes me want to paint ASAP!
Same Old Shit
You know the feeling when everyone seems to be oversharing the most mundane aspects of everyday life and you, a fellow social media account holder, are feeling more and more like a troll and less and less like a once-happy participant? Yes. That is me right now. Social media silent troll. Not on purpose! I became this monster.
I very rarely hit "Like" on anything these days and find myself unfollowing more accounts each day. Why? When did Instagram become so ....blah. Is it me who changed?
Honestly, I should just give it up all together and only post here — my favorite empty hallway to yell into — but I think the only thing keeping me on Instagram right now are the meme accounts I follow. Even then though! I'm like, How do the FuckJerry's and the beigecardigan's of the world get away with essentially plagiarizing people's funny work for their own monetary gain?!
I feel it happening; I'm aging into a new phase of my life as the eternal grump. That older person that is constantly shaking their heads and telling millennials to get off the fucking lawn.
Blog-wise I'm less interested in photographing myself these days and more interested in waiting until I have something worthy and original to say. Even if it is a rant (which this post definitely is).
I'm working on another one of those little experiment books, but between the new job and trying to be good at it, and trying to be a good daughter, and wife, and friend!, that leaves me with less time than I used to have for such things.
Oh, I'm also working on more paintings because it makes me feel good to paint.
All this making shit still makes me happy, but it still takes time.
More time than it takes to go outside with a camera and pose in front of an interesting wall.
More time than it takes to #chasethelight and take the perfect #selfie with just the right amount of nonchalance.
I'm perfectly ok with this since it seems like the antidote for todays avalanche of daily hurried unoriginal shit, and despite my loner braggadocio attitude secretly hope you are ok with too.
Rich People Dressing Expensive Stuff Down
I think my favorite photo in this mix from Vogue is the last one with the pair of women in absurdly expensive Valentino dresses just so nonchalantly styled with a denim jacket around the waist. It's such a big "Fuck you" to all the little people who can't even imagine wearing a $10,000 dress with such a blasé attitude. Oh, blah, another couture piece for me to wear to work today. I'll be quirky today and dress this way the fuck down — yea, Tommy Ton will love that.
On a more positive note: I'm loving the first photo. It's just so epic styling such a flashy and intricate brocade jacket with an all black masculine rocker outfit. I love that.
The Feed 07:22:16
I Am The Kaftan Now
I'd like to thank my old copywriting partner, Ross Viator for the headline of this post because a) Tom Hanks movies and b) puns.
It's hot and humid. I'm bloated and slightly hungover from having too much of everything on vacation. Given this state, the last thing I want to wear right now are my shorts or anything that skims my body too closely. Basically all I want to wear is this kaftan for the rest of the trip, so I guess it's a good thing I made the smart decision the week before we took off for our trip and ordered this oversized printed style from Emerson Frye (via the helpful people at Cedar and Hyde in Boulder, CO).
It's the ideal proportion, it flows in the wind, and most importantly, gently covers up my body allowing my bloated/over-indulgent self to feel a little bit pretty mid-way through my trip.
Emerson Frye kaftan (one size) $198, cedarandhyde.com
Pleated + Crossed
Lovely details from the Ann Demeulemeester menswear show.