I am finding that I had forgotten how nice I feel in nice clothes, that I like tailoring, that I love a beautiful dress and heels, nice ladylike flats too, but especially heels. I like dressing up. Where have I been? How could I forget?
Oh yes, I remember now. Caregiver. What a terrible word. What a terrible style.
I want to repudiate caregiver style. Oh wearing jeans has been good for me. I have learned to be casual; this took a long time, and there are days this is all I want. But more often I want to be in a suit or dress and heels even though this is not the wardrobe expected in my life.
One must gauge the climate. One must also gauge the temperature of the woman, and find a meeting point where both coexist in comfort. I am working on this; slowly yet, but working nonetheless.
I want to wear what I want simply because I want to wear it.
I'm not far enough along in the closet restructuring to report anything, but I have been inspired to look at the fall collections. Of course I started at the top, with my favorite, Chado by Ralph Rucci. You must go look at the collection. It is amazing. Almost every piece is gorgeous. The man is a genious. Obviously I am stark-raving-mad for this collection. I like it so much I have looked at it over and over. I like it so much I haven't looked at anything else.
There are so many things here that speak to me. Some are ideas for things to make. I'm not really planning direct knock-offs. I stopped that years ago, I'm more interested in stealing inspiration, and Ralph Rucci's work is all inspiration. Besides, my skills aren't up to creating some of these things, not yet, perhaps not ever.
But my love of this collection goes beyond just wanting the clothes, and yes I do want them. It goes beyond just dreaming of making the clothes, or using them for inspiration. This collection reminds me of something fundamental and basic that is in my style, something with which I had floundered for a while.
If style is also a reflection of who you are, of the place you want to mark in the world, when the world throws you for a loop it is conceivable that even style can get lost. But to deny one's style is to deny a fundamental piece of oneself, whether that style be "high" or "low", combat boots or Christian Louboutin.
I love these garments in and of themselves. They are perfection. They remind me of what I like, they remind me not to go down frivolous paths following whims.
Sometimes I just look at something and say that is how I wish clothing could be, how I wish life could be, the life for those clothing.
Clothing that makes me wax philosophic. Not a good sign. Did I not tell you I was loopy? We all know I am not good at philosophy, and I am worse at writing about it.
Did you know that in college I was told that I "write badly very well", and that I should write the blurbs that you find on the back of novels, enticing the reader to open the pages?
It is true. But it is not correct. I let my mind wander far too freely to write blurbs.
Even in the context of these fabulous clothes my mind wanders beyond "where could I wear this" and "how could I reproduce that" and thinks of blurbs.
These are dream clothes. They are not clothes for driving the garbage cans up the hill, or doing all those other practical things. I don't think dreams need to be practical.