Earlier in the year, I visited Vassar College with my mom and sister. One of the many wonderful things about the school is that they have an in-house flea market every Monday. And we were there on a Monday. It's fantastic how these things work out, isn't it? I hadn't brought any money, nor had I intended to spend any of the little money I was in possession of, but neither of those facts made any difference in my decision to buy two jackets. One of them, I convinced my mother, was perfect for winter, since my peacoat of yore really wasn't warm enough. My new one is a multicolored plaid bomber jacket with a faux fur collar. It's pretty bangin'. I've worn it basically every day since its date of purchase. But the other one is a Schiaparelli-pink houndstooth jacket with gold buttons. Anything slightly reminiscent of tweed jackets instantly calls to mind Chanel. Oh, how I long to wear Chanel. Not just because of the name, but I swear to goodness gracious, that Karl Lagerfeld is a genius. (Hint: there will be more to come on this topic soon. ...And that wasn't much of a hint at all.)
My sister has this thing where she refuses to believe that pants can just be pants, and must give them names or descriptions that she thinks aptly describe them. For example, she got a pair of wool trousers at H&M last year, and insists on calling them her "fluffy pants." Her initial reaction to the pants pictured below was that she thought they looked like sheep. Even though she didn't say it, they also look like snow. If you stretch your imagination. It just so happens to have snowed a little bit in New York City yesterday, so my timing with these was perfect.
[Photos by me.]
Jacket: Episode (thrifted)
Tank top: Naf Naf Paris
Pants: unknown (thrifted)
Snakeskin platforms: vintage BCBG Max Azria
Isn't it the best when the upper half of my face just looks like a black abyss? Love that.
We can thank poor lighting in my hallway for that one.
I think I've got the blogger pose down, don't you? Here's the trick: you stand in a way that would never occur naturally if you were being a normal person, and try to make a sad, piercing, or pensive facial expression. Works every time.
And now the happy picture! I also turned flash on so that the photos weren't so mysterious (read: dark), but it was kind of blinding (read: I was temporarily sightless) so I only took a few.
The weather is getting progressively weirder and my body temperature is becoming progressively colder and it is getting progressively darker, so the moral of the story, kids, is: wear mondo-layers and don't wear sunglasses past 4:30 PM and refrain from wearing stilettos.
And that is how you write an exceedingly redundant sentence.
Good night, folks! I'm here all week.
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