Basic AF

I think I'm basic AF.

Thanks to the internet, this is now a bad thing. For those living under a rock, one of the quickest ways to insult someone is to call them "basic." It's a way to slam someone deemed so utterly mediocre and non-special that a simple term that used to be neutral and maybe even slightly scrappy is used to encapsulate that person's entire being. Way harsh, Tai!

This quietly brutal term is overused now, but I really just refuse to let it happen and continue to use the word "basic" in the way that still encapsulates me: non-frilly, easy, scrappy, etc. In terms of fashion, for me, "basic" used to stand for the essentials, the quintessential closet items that every person should own — like a t-shirt. 

One of the toughest things to find that works for my body these days is a well constructed, quality t-shirt. Sure there are cheap avenues for a shirt, like Target and what not for when you just need a t-shirt for sweaty endeavors like cleaning your toilet or pulling the weeds in the yard, but what about when you want a t-shirt for work or even something dressy?

I know the famous twins behind The Row claim to have designed the "perfect basic t-shirt" with exceptional luxury materials like silk and cashmere and smart tailoring and seams and probably endangered unicorn hairs woven in, but at $300 a piece I'm pretty sure that's as unrealistic and a mistake in the making — like my Gucci Princetown furry loafers.

So now what? I've tried other acclaimed brands like ATM, that at first seem to have nailed the whole basic t-shirt situation, only to find out the paper thin $85 shirt I bought at a snooty place stretched out two sizes and is now so sheer that it is basically relegated to elegant sleep pajama top. Super. Lame. 

Ok, so really then, what now?
I'm lucky enough to have a blog that I can post to whenever I want to speak into the void about fashion and design, and sometimes people actually listen. Kit and Ace listened and without even asking me just sent me one of their cashmere, cotton, drapey shirts. I know, #humblebrag, but my point with this entire point is not to pander to this company that gave me free shit, but mostly to tell you that Kit and Ace is worth a try.  

They sent me their Linden tee in a size 6 and it says it's valued at $78 retail. The fit is absolutely lovely. The cotton is opaque enough not to show my bra, but still breathable and soft to have a significant drape. I love the oversized fit and I think the tailoring is very nicely thought out. I loved my new t-shirt right out of the free box it came in but was a little concerned when it said it contained 85% cotton and 11% cashmere (the other 5% is spandex). I thought, Great, here's to ruining another t-shirt in the wash. So I washed it per the instructions and it still retained all the amazing qualities that compelled me to post about it here.

Look, I know we can't all have the luxury of a free sample of what is essentially another $80 shirt, but I know that money is frivolous matter and that quality is still important to conscious fashion-loving shoppers. So I think if you're willing to try, give it a shot. The last thing I'll say is that in terms of size, I'd probably order a size 4, not a 6, moving forward. While the size 6 works great for the style I got (oversized, drapey, etc.) I will want a slimmer fit for a more traditional crew t-shirt.

shop kit and ace



 

I Am Part Of The Problem (Or, That Time I Bought Gucci Princetown Furry Loafers)

I talk a big game about being over the shine of new shit — this anti-consumerism stance is something I struggle with as a lover of fashion and a professional working in advertising. I also talk a big game about how wasteful and unbelievably shallow the fashion industry is. But even with these valid beliefs, I'm also more and more aware of my own hypocrisy as well.

Such hypocrisy was quietly evident on my social channels and then eventually here with a couple subtly posted shots of me wearing a certain new acquisition.

I am in continuing process of eliminating about 60% of my closet to get it down to the tried-and-true basics — favoring quality clothing that's been used before over fast fashion anything — so throughout this good positive effort what on Earth compelled me to get these Gucci Princetown furry loafers?

Was it that I was just itching to buy something as a way to reward myself for making such a substantial dent in my debt repayment? Perhaps. (Side note: this is so stupid, how we got into debt in the first place, etc.)

Was it that I just wanted something cool for me that fashion people would just get? Sadly, this may be true as well. 

Was it that I loved the whole Hugh Hefner, rich dude in a robe appeal of them? Oddly yes. But as a person who claims to enjoy being a tomboy, I do admit that loafers are polarizing to say the least: of the few times I've worn my Gucci Princetown ridiculous "It" shoes I was mostly met with crazy judgmental looks from the fine grounded people of the Bay Area Those looks really tested my own personal resolve to wear whatever the fuck I want without caring about what anyone had to say about it. But I did start to wonder how far that personal resolve made sense if I had to constantly remind myself of it.

It was exhausting. Also, I don't think I was fully ever on board with two things:

1. The crazy aspect of literally walking on $1000. (Typing this is painful, trust me, proving there are no bounds to my rationalization techniques in the heat of a misguided shopping moment).

2. The kangaroo fur. While I don't actively own any fur coats, I sure own a lot of leather items, so I have no real place to be an activist for PETA here. But still, something just did not feel good about some poor kangaroo way the fuck in Australia having to perish to look this questionable in the name of fashion. It just felt unnecessary. (Did you know the fur in the furry loafers is also inside the shoe? It's like an expensive UGG).

So long story short I sold my Gucci loafers.
I sold them for about 80% of what I paid, thus recouping the majority of the cost.

I bought them, received them, immediately kind of regretted them. I wore them anyway to prove to myself that I was worth it, that I do like these a lot, but in the end it was just another pricey lesson for the realistic nature of most fashion items the industry is obsessed with.

Work Hard, Be Kind, Move On

Two weeks ago I quit my job.

I walked into a meeting room with my boss, formally quit, thanked him for everything, and left work that day feeling like a stray balloon floating along Market street, walking one foot in front of the other, fully on auto-pilot. 

After three-and-a half years I decided to move on from a comfortable lukewarm place full of lovely, smart people and chose instead to jump off the high dive into the deep end of a brand new pool of talented strangers. (I chose this metaphor because the high dive scared the shit out of me when I was a kid. FYI.)

Today is my last day and I am excited, nervous, intimidated, but also confident that I am tenacious enough to do well in my new role.

Still, leaving the building I've walked to and from for years, leaving my routine, leaving my (boring) lunch spots, leaving the familiarity, and especially leaving the people I've been around for so long with such consistency, is strange — hard even. But I think it's the right time for a change, even if it's scary, because that's how I've grown in the past. My creative career is basically leaps off high dives into unknown and bigger pools, so maybe I just want to see how far I can go.

I will tell you though, that the people remain lovely over time. The coworkers that were awesome generally remain awesome, and the people who actually became friends stay your friends, and even become the most valuable people that show their true colors when it comes time to recommend you for your next gig, a new project, or introducing you to new talented people. That's my favorite part of changing jobs; this aspect of constant friend-making (or "networking" as Linkedin would call it) keeps me aiming to be a hard working and kind person — like Conan said! 

Practice Being A Lady

After months, and maybe even years, of toting around large bags with no closing fixtures, the Lady Bag has really thrown a curve ball at me. The minimalist design is really appreciated, but one of the most unexpected frustrations is with the closure itself. It consists of one long leather tie that goes all around the bag like the much famed bucket bags, but then meets in the center front and is held together in place by another piece of leather with channels for both ends to go into. To close the bag, you have to string the ties up to the top closure, then down through the middle one and tug firmly. Oof, it's a process that I suggest you do not attempt to do the first times while you're rushing to places. Despite the minimalist hardware to keep the bag closed, this is all it takes to keep it closed even when it has my 15" laptop in it. 

It definitely took some practice and getting used to, mostly because I was so used to having all of my things readily available with the other bags. Do I miss the ease of the tote bag or the mini bucket bags, where I had the option to leave my purse wide open for any last minute grabbing of pens, notebooks, or iPhones? Yes. Duh. I'm a lady who is also lazy. But just remember that there was once a time when you didn't have all that stuff, and that maybe the most fashionable of people seem fashionable in those street style or vintage photos because of their confidence to just walk to where they're going with their hands free and all their stuff out of sight in their Lady bags. 

Mansur Gavriel Lady Bag (Large)

Tomboy Muse: Alba Galocha

Stop what you're doing and just join me in admiring the wonderful gamine that is Alba Galocha. She's the blogger behind Tea Time for Vogue España. She's reminiscent of Lea Séydoux and Astrid Berges-Frisbey — both French actresses with a boyish charm. Every time I stumble upon someone like Alba, or Astrid, or Lea I get so excited to have found them because I just get so damn excited about fashion again. Not from an industry standpoint, but from a personal aesthetic, like what's in my closet right now. I feel mentally reinvigorated to find new combinations of things I already own and style them in a way I think Alba would. She reminds me so much of Miroslava Duma back in the day when she was a street style OG queen; Quirky, nonchalant, tomboy, lovely. 

I Have A Mansur Gavriel Large Lady Bag and Feel Terrible About It

Personal fiscal responsibility and loving fashion are many times two opposing forces in my life. On one hand, I want to be a stylish person in my everyday life (even the quiet lounge days) because personal style is important to me — how I present myself to the world matters and is deeply tied to my mood and feeling great. On the flip side, I want to be a financially responsible human being that pays for things in cash money only. Why? Because I definitely know how fast I can dig a hole of debt by paying for my whims with a credit card. I've made a pact in January 2015 to only pay cash and pay down my debt by 2016, and I'm happy to say I've made a considerable dent in my debt and will be debt free by early next year. 

Look, I know I'm not alone in this tightrope balance because it's a topic of conversation at many happy hours (FYI, a money suck worse than fashion, in my opinion) and super easy material for parodies ("Women be shopping #AMIRITE").

And I'm not pretending to tell you how to achieve a balanced financial/fashion life in this post, but more so telling you a cautionary tale about the supposed helpful browser feature that allows you to "save credit card for future use." Let's just say that for anyone wanting to zero out credit card debt this is the devil. Anytime you see this feature when you buy something online, do yourself a favor and turn it off. 

Story time: One time while buying something on Amazon I accidentally had my Visa saved online for future use. I'm like, "Ok, note to self, let's delete that information later." Well, that never happened. So cut to last week when I was feeling pretty tired and in need for a personal reward — for what I don't even know, to be honest — and found myself perusing The Line's New Arrivals section. What did I see? The Mansur Gavriel Lady Bag in Sand. I thought, cool, let me hoard it in my shopping cart and just thrive on this adrenaline of kind of getting the bag I wanted despite the mega-sold-out situation, which is so typical of Mansur Gavriel now. Fast forward to me going to a meeting at work, then coming back to my shopping cart and hitting "enter" to wake up my machine and therefore hitting "purchase."  

Boom.

Instead of being a responsible window shopper online I now became a woman who used her credit card to buy an incredibly expensive bag on a goddamn whim. Despite this, I was kind of thrilled (wouldn't you be?) but that didn't last long until the warm guilt of this hasty action draped over me like a gross itchy wool angora blanket. 

Ugh. Now what?

I'm in the pickle of doing the thing you shouldn't do: tried on an expensive dress that is over my budget when I couldn't really afford it to begin with. I'm pretty sure I'm going to return this gorgeous bag. I think.

But before I do, I want to let you know a couple facts about the Large Mansur Gavriel Lady Bag:

• The Mansur Gavriel Large Lady Bag does indeed fit a 15" Macbook. 
• I can tell you the leather on the Lady Bag is much softer than the bucket bag.
• I can also tell you that the Large isn't so large in real life as I thought it would be. 
• The closure on this is pretty much as flimsy as the bucket bag, meaning it depends on the two strings tied around the Lady Bag, Bucket Bag style.

So now, comes a moral question: While I have this mistake in my hands, should I post a couple pictures of it safely in the crook of my arm? Will that make it harder to get rid of? Isn't that essentially naming the little helpless puppy you can't keep?

People, I'm rambling. I'm in love with this bag, but need direction. I can freelance more and pay for it cash in a few weeks, or I can return it. What would you do?

Do you want it?

Help.

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Update: I sold it. Then I bought the black large Lady Bag a couple months later (in cash) then sold that one too. Moral of the story is just turn off "save credit card for future use." 

Thanks for reading!