{Almost daily outfit of the day} RIP winter 2.1.12

Forever 21 denim jacket; Target long-sleeved tee; thrifted vintage Kenar skirt; Spanx tights; 6x6 by Urban Outfitters ankle boots; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets

I feel like everyone I know is talking about spring.

Some people dream of it. Other's dread spring's side effects (rain, allergies.) And then there are those who are positively bereft that this winter's tepid march continues for another two months. On Pinterest, users are pinning things like floral sheer blouses and pastel sweater sets and bouquets of tulips and misty photos of woods shrouded in spring fog. On Twitter, bloggers are trading links to J Crew's spring collection. And everyone - and I do mean everyone - is discussing the lack of snow and bitter temperatures and desire for short sleeves and tightless legs.

If you're a living, breathing human who has been affected by winter's gloom at some point in your life, praying for spring makes sense. I too have found myself desperately wishing for warm weather, for buds on trees and daffodils swaying cheerfully in the soft spring breeze. But when spring does come, I find myself missing my warm cocoon of winter clothes. I miss my tights, and suede skirts, and tall boots, and cuddly blanket of wool sweaters.

This outfit might be my last hurah to winter - temperatures have been in the seventies here in Dallas. So I'm going to enjoy it.

Almost daily outfit of the day: Post-cataclysmic dress 12.5.11

Lucky Brand jacket; thrifted Gap blouse; thrifted Joe's Jeans; Dolce Vita suede ankle boots; Old Navy belt;  Forever 21 and Charming Charlie bracelets

It's been raining for three days straight, the kind of cold, piercing rain that stabs straight into your bones and makes you want to hide at home in your sweatpants watching Anne of Green Gables all day. I am not one for rainy days. I think it takes a certain kind of person to thrive in them. These people embrace melancholy and live in houses with dark, heavy furniture. They drink a lot of whiskey, and listen to opera, and journal morose poetry about a post-apocalyptic world reminiscent of a Cormac McCarthy novel.

The same kind of cataclysmic, grim landscape that pervades this poetry is exactly what the view outside my window reminds me of right now. McCarthy's characters battle starvation and desperate, hopeless situations. They face cannibalistic hoards of nomads, electrical storms, and brutal weather. Stormy days aside,  I'm thankful to avoid such lyrical horror and cocoon myself at home on the couch, huddled in layers, glaring at the clouds rushing by. 

Almost daily outfit of the day: Hillbilly hell 10.6.11

Thrifted J Crew chambray shirt; vintage thrifted silk skirt; vintage thrifted leopard belt; H&M sandals; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets.

I did not wear this outfit today. No, I wore it last Thursday, when I received a call that my husband's car was disabled by flat tire, leaving him helpless on the side of a road somewhere near Tulsa. My husband travels for work. He's on the road a lot, schlepping back and forth from our tidy little suburban house in Dallas to the wilds of Oklahoma, where the accents are so thick you could spread them on toast. While he is always able to stay cool and calm in the face of a crisis (which I must admit irritates the CRAP out of me) I do not. Nope. I freak out. My imagination goes into overdrive. Immediately, I pictured him sitting roadside on a dirty patch of gravel, vultures circling overhead hungrily as he waited for rescue. Every pickup that sped by contained at least one escaped homicidal maniac wielding either a butcher knife or sawed-off shotgun, monitoring him, deciding whether he was worth a kill, which he was because he's a nice guy and generally a good driver and takes care of me when I'm sick and OH MY GOD I AM ABOUT TO BE WIDOWED. So there he sat, helpless and vulnerable, shivering (never mind that it was 89 degrees out) and praying for salvation. Or a tow truck.

In the end, he managed to get his car transported out of Oklahoma to a town forty minutes from us, and I picked him up. Apparently he made friends with a couple of mechanics and had a jolly old time while I was losing heart muscle with my worrying. Both he and his car are fine, and I've vowed to stop freaking out. For the rest of the week, anyway.

Almost daily outfit: Country strong 9/2/11

Vintage thrifted Wrangler shirt; Joe's cropped jeans (eBay); Lucky Brand wedges; Buffalo Exchange bag; vintage thrifted belt; Forever 21 and Charming Charlie bracelets; Marc Jacobs watch

I thrifted this generously ruffled 1980's western shirt a few months back. Then I saw my arch nemesis Gwyneth Paltrow in Country Strong on HBO. These two incidents, I believe, are deeply connected.  First of all, I kind of have a secret fetish for western wear. A pair of worn out Wranglers, a oversized silver belt buckle, and a dusty pair of cowboy boots enrapture me. This shirt led to daydreams of racing horses around barrels and sipping beer out of the bottle in some honky-tonk saloon while Willie Nelson croons softly on the jukebox.

My friend Gwyneth has loftier fantasies, I'm sure. Country Strong had enough melodrama and full-volume diva-esque histrionics to blow even Burlesque out of the water. Paltrow plays a booze and pills burned-out country singer on the edge of collapse. Her performance largely consists of screeching, weeping until the eyeliner runs in rivets down her perfect face, and stumbling around in a drunken manner. But there's a lot to like about this movie. The very best scenes involve watching princessy Paltrow in hysterics, rolling around on the floor, grabbing for a bottle of booze and being mean to Leighton Meester (who's got enough of a case of mean-face herself to make you think she deserves it.) It's almost as crazy as watching Mindy McCready on Celebrity Rehab.

So I dedicate this vintage Wrangler shirt to you, Ms. Paltrow.  It might not have be included in your epic country tear-fest, but it was there in spirit. Minus the dripping eyeliner, of course.

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Visual Fashion Beauty Friend Friday: R.O.C.K in the USA (Favorite clothing)

This week, Fashion Beauty Friend Friday is taking a visual turn and focusing on our favorite clothing item, as suggested by Ashley of Getting Dressed. I have to admit that I struggled with choosing a favorite piece. My thrifting and vintage addiction had led to a closet filled with unique, one-of-a-kind items that I spent hours digging out of racks and bins. So I'm highlighting one of my most recent thrifing scores. Warning: You might be blinded or offended by the amount of bling. And considerable 80's influence.

Okay. I understand that this vest is kind of ridiculous. I mean, it's bedazzled and studded. But I love it. It brings a flood of 80's teenage adolescence references to mind. I like to imagine that this lovely little piece of fashion iconography was created by a mother-daughter team back during the summer of 1986. They spent hours debating the type of studs and rhinestones they were going to use to decorate this vest, which they found in the Sears just off Main street. Eagerly they attacked their project, working into the night, their teased, permed hair casting a shadow over their work.

Eventually, the daughter grew bored of their endeavor. She was missing her favorite episode of Who's The Boss. The phone rang with calls from her friends, wondering why she wasn't hanging out at the Dairy Queen with them. So she abandoned the bedazzling, sneaking to her room, and turning on John Cougar Mellencamp to drown out the shrill nagging of her mom. When she drifted from her room the next morning, the vest was finished, her mother snoring softly on the couch. The girl wore it to school, generating envious looks from friends. And naturally, she took all the credit for its enticing sparkle.

So how did I style this piece? Very, very carefully.

$3 Thrifted vintage vest; Target layered tanks; Joe's Jeans (from Nordstrom Rack) White Mountain sandals; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets

As usual, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic in the comments! Fashion Beauty Friend Friday was created by Katy Rose of Modly Chic. Become a member at the Fashion Beauty Friend Friday Google Group to join in the discussion!

Almost daily outfit of the day: Vintage nautical 8/25/11

$5 Thrifted J Crew chambray button-down; $4 thrifted vintage skirt; $10 thrifted vintage Coach bag; Miz Mooz wedges; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets; thrifted Michael Kors rose gold watch

Every spring, stores become inundated with pieces relevant to one specific theme: nautical. Such as this skirt. And every spring, I scratch my head in confusion. I've always felt that nautical-inspired clothing belongs on blonde twenty-something East Coast girls with names like Muffy and Tinsley. These girls have vacation homes in Nantucket and drive BMW's and drink Evian and always wear pearl studs in their ears and started playing tennis when they were six. They date guys named Blake who went to Brown and are working as investment bankers or something pertaining to Wall Street, and spend their evenings at the club nibbling on vegetable crudite and watching polo. Or so I imagine.

I do have a bit of credibility regarding nautical wear, though. I've spent some time on Long Island. I've ridden on the Staten Island Ferry. I own a pair of earrings with anchors on them. And I was on my college crew team...though I might have been the coxswain (whose entire job consists of sitting in the front of the skull screaming at the rowers to stay in rhythm.) Okay, I was the coxswain. And it was awesome.

Almost daily outfit of the day 8/17/11

Old Navy linen blouse; thrifted vintage skirt; Old Navy belt; H&M sandals; thrifted Coach satchel; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets

If it were up to me, I'd wear thrifted sequins and vintage dresses and outrageous outfits composed of lace maxi skirts and cropped tops and MASSIVE amounts of jewelry and teetering high heels all the time. Unfortunately, that's not always possible. Such as days like today, when I have to accompany my children to the Lego Discovery Center (which I SWEAR is the depository of every tantrum-throwing, nose-picking, screaming child within a 60 mile radius of Dallas) and run to the supermarket to pick up the one most important thing I neglected to get the last time I was at the supermarket. In these environments, sequins and crop tops are not such a good idea. But linen and swirly skirts are. I still managed to throw on a pile of bracelets, which garnered a few looks from the general public. I guess that'll have to do.

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Daily Outfit 8/13/11

Thrifted J Crew chambray shirt; thrifted vintage circle skirt; H&M sandals; Michael Kors rose gold watch; flea market turquoise ring; Charming Charlie and Forever 21 bracelets

If you are a child of the eighties, as I am, you might remember a hugely successful, tongue-in-cheek tome called The Preppy Handbook. On the North Shore of Long Island, where I spent much of my childhood, this book was studied as closely as the Bible. Although it was written as a parody, it served as an accurate "field guide" to the dress and lifestyle of the New England prepster. Indeed, what made The Preppy Handbook so successful in the eighties was that it is simultaneously a satire, for those in the know, and an actual handbook, for those hoping to pass as socially upwardly mobile.  

While reading the Handbook, you learn immediately that being a prepster goes well beyond attendance at a private boarding school. You learn about their cars, colleges, clothes, food, jobs, music, pets, what they read and how they decorate their houses. (FYI: Prepster cars include BMWs, Saabs, Volvos, Land Rovers, and Jeep SUVs; pets are retrievers and spaniels.) Written in 1980, this work help launch the preppy craze of that decade and gave birth to the current preppy style among which many have chosen to emulate. No socks? Classic. LL Bean Rubber Mocs? Always, even in temperate weather. Lacoste, and turned-up collars, and madras shorts? All accounted for.

The Preppy Handbook is timeless. According to Wikipedia, its musings on young urban professional culture served as an inspiration to the founder of the J. Crew clothing line, Arthur Cinader. Cinader hoped to capitalize on the success of the book through the development of a retail empire based on argyle sweaters, chinos, and oxford shirts. The book also represented a resurgence of interest in 'preppy' culture that aided the growth of retailer L.L. Bean.

I did not go to boarding school, or an elite day school, but I was able to b.s my way into Hobart and William Smith Colleges (one of the exceptional schools for demonstrations of prep-dom). The lifestyle depicted in the book was as true in the early 1990's as it was when it was written. As a person who can admit to wearing topsiders to class, ordering chinos from the J Crew catalog, and going for a sail on lake Seneca, my college experience seemed modeled according to The Preppy Handbook word-for-word.

It's pretty obvious that I don't consider myself a prepster anymore.  But i kind of felt like one in this outfit. I automatically associate khaki and chambray with prep. I suppose you can take the girl out of Long Island, but you can't take the Long Island out of the girl.

Everybody, Everywear: Pattern Mixing (with an exploration of the shapewear industry)

I have a little secret. Under today's pattern mixed outfit (for Everybody, Everywear) lies a weapon strong enough to defeat the bloat of last night's chicken fried steak. Constructed of Lycra, Tencel and Spandex, this seamless instrument quietly does it's work. It fears little. Two slices of pizza? Salty snacks? Nachos scarfed at the rodeo? It scoffs at my vain attempts to stretch it's reserves. It boosts my confidence and inspires me to wear clothes I wouldn't dare consider without it.

I am speaking of shapewear.

The shapewear industry is worth $812.5 billion, according to WWD. Annual retail sales of shapewear — undergarments that control and smooth figure problems — grew 10.6 percent to $848.3 million from March 2009 to February 2010, and unit sales increased 3.8 percent during that period, according to The NPD Group research consultancy. A leading area of growth was plus sizes of XL to XXXL or larger, with sales gains of 14.8 percent last year.

Undergarment company Maidenform Brands Inc. this month reported a quarterly profit nearly doubled from last year which CEO Maurice Reznik put down to innovation - namely shapewear. Reznik said Maidenform has the largest market share in shapewear and is optimistic in the continued growth of the category. Women are now building shapewear wardrobes of basic and specialty pieces like control camis, waist cinchers and all-in-one body shapers, much in the same manner as they’ve made bras and tank tops wardrobe staples.

Body-shapers have long played a supporting role in fashion trends. The ancestor of shapewear, the corset, was "the most controversial garment in the history of fashion," says Valerie Steele, director and chief curator at the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology, who wrote a book about the garment. The girdle grew popular in the early 20th century, eventually becoming a key component of Christian Dior's nipped-waist "New Look," unveiled in 1947.

The popularity of shapewear began declining when the miniskirt emerged in 1965, and the introduction of seamless pantyhose made obsolete the need for control briefs with garters. In 1998, an office copy-machine saleswoman named Sara Blakely cut the feet off a pair of sheer control-top pantyhose so she could wear cream-colored pants to a party. Two years later, she founded Spanx, and celebrities such as Gwyneth Paltrow, Jessica Alba, Oprah Winfrey and Queen Latifah started confessing their love of the shapers under their evening gowns. It picked up steam last year when Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Beyoncé were seen in provocative corsetry and other lingerie looks at the Grammys and the American Music Awards, as well as in magazines.

As reported in WWD, Guido Campello, vice president of marketing and innovation for Cosabella, an Italian-made intimates brand sold worldwide, said the company began receiving e-mails from retailers requesting shapewear following Grammys and the American Music Awards. “We didn’t expect we had a market for shapewear, especially in Italy,” he said. “But it’s because of the entertainment artists, such as Lady Gaga, Rihanna, Beyoncé, and even Eva Longoria in ‘Desperate Housewives,’ which has taken over ‘Sex and the City’ worldwide.”

The trend also has been propelled by shapewear and corsetry featured in popular TV shows like AMC’s “Mad Men, and HBO's miniseries "Mildred Pearce."

Underwear makers have discovered that men have an interest in shapewear as well. Since Spanx released a new line of “shapewear” or “profile-enhancing underwear” for men in February 2010, the “body compressing” tanks, crews and v-necks have become undeniable “retail hit,” as reported in the New York Times. Spanx isn’t the only company tapping into men’s growing insecurities about their midsections. According to the New York Times article, Equmen, Sculptees and RiptFusion have also released popular products for men, including a sort of “push-up bra” for men.

As I yanked on my Spanx this morning, I wondered why so many women (and men) are flocking to shapewear now. Is it because more women are struggling with obesity than ever before? Are fashion trends dictating the need for the smooth silhouettes shapewear creates?

I have a different theory. Vanity sizing, and a lack of sizing guidelines in the Unites States, have created confusion among female consumers regarding what clothing size they are. It is nearly impossible to accurately determine what size you need to wear to guarantee optimal fit.  This chart proves with empirical evidence how women's dress sizes do not conform to any standard. Furthermore, even when women's clothing does rely on measurements to determine size (such as waist size for jeans) one brand's size 28 in one style might not fit equally as a 28 in a different style.

I suspect more women are turning to shapewear because they have no clue what size they wear, are purchasing clothes that do not fit properly, and require a more supportive foundation garment as a result.

Now I ask you: Do you wear shapewear? What caused you to purchase it? When did you start wearing it? Why do you think the industry is booming?

Thrifted Ann Taylor blouse; thrifted Anthropologie skirt; Old Navy belt; Michael Kors platform espadrilles; vintage estate sale clutch; Forever 21 and Charming Charlie bracelets; Michael Kors rose gold watch

Prints cited: Polka dot top + floral skirt

Daily Outfit 8/3/11

Thrifted J Crew silk dress; White Mountain sandals; vintage estate sale clutch; Charming Charlie bracelets; Michael Kors rose gold watch

I go thrifting at least four days a week. On three of those days, I walk out empty handed. A failed thrifting trip is a bitter pill to swallow. I question the universe when those days happen. Sometimes I get a teensy bit angry. Sometimes I feel haunted by what I didn't purchase. Maybe I should have bought that neon plaid Chaus vintage maxi skirt. How could I have left that vintage straw hat behind? And what about that black fur-trimmed evening coat? HAVE I LOST MY MIND???


But sometimes I get lucky. Such as I did when I stumbled upon this dress at a Goodwill I rarely have luck in. It fits me beautifully and makes me feel kinda like a forties movie star, all glam and sensuous and cat-like. Thought I doubt movie stars would be caught in the Goodwill. But if I ever bump into one, I'll let you know.

Outfit Post: Kiss and make-up - what's your relationship with cosmetics?

Weeks ago, I embarked on a trip to the mall to replace my beloved MAC Viva Glam lipstick (whose loss I lamented here.) I'd planned to breeze into the MAC store, grab my desired lipstick, whip out my debit card, and leave. But somehow, in between my lipstick and the cash register, I got distracted by the glorious display of cosmetics. Oh, pretty pretty eyeshadows! Oh, sparkly lip glosses! And eeew, Lady Gaga's lipstick (which, I'm sorry, looks like foundation, and why in God name would ANYBODY want to slather foundation on their LIPS??) A "helpful" sales associate informed me that I absolutely needed lip liner to accompany my Viva Glam. And as long as I was there, I might as well pick up some foundation - see those little crow's lines around my eyes? And pressed powder would help set the foundation...need that too. And blush, because the foundation made me look kind of washed out. By the time I left I was $120 poorer and so heavily painted I could hardly recognize myself.

Back in January, a study of 3,000 women conducted by Superdrug found that one in three women refuse to go out in public without wearing makeup. As in, they can't even run out to the grocery store or to pick up their kid without makeup on. Nearly half of all women say they prefer to wear cosmetics than to show their bare face. But what's the most shocking of all: one in ten women polled said they would never ever let their partner see them without a full face of makeup on.

Here's some other interesting results of the study:

• The average woman waits 2.5 months before going makeup-less in front of her partner.
• 14% of women get out of bed early to put on makeup before their partner wakes up.
• Six in 10 women will not go to work without makeup.
• Nearly 25% believe they would be ignored for a promotion if they didn't wear makeup.
• 37% think their managers would assume they didn’t take care of themselves if they didn't wear makeup.

I was never really into wearing make-up. In high school, when girls  traditionally become infatuated by things like multi-colored eye shadows and bright pink blush, I stuck to the rare swipe of Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers, preferably in a sugary artificial flavor like bubble gum. In my eyes, cosmetics seemed reserved for grown-up, adult women, the kind that got bi-weekly blow-outs and never, ever had runs in their tights. I was fascinated by these woman, whom I quietly observed during my commute into Manhattan. In their glossy red lipstick, they were utterly sophisticated and glamorous. I imagined they lived in full-floor penthouses and spent their free time perusing antique furniture, drinking espresso and hosting elaborate dinner parties where they ate canapes and discussed surrealistic art.

But there were other women who wore so much makeup that they looked embalmed. One of those was my own mother. Her sharp, spidery lashes, coated by sticky layers of mascara and aggressively contoured cheeks, frightened me. And her cosmetics collection - overflowing bags of shadows and polishes and lipsticks - would have easily classified her as a hoarder. So, in fear of becoming like her, I stuck to my lip gloss. But eventually I married, turned thirty, and started wearing mascara, which was my gateway drug to lipstick, eyeliner and eyeshadow, and finally wound my way to foundation and blush. And now, I am one of those women who will not leave the house without my face on (as my mother was fond of saying.)

Sara Wolverson of Superdrug told the Daily Mail: "For many women, putting their makeup on is animportant part of their day, and the thought of people seeing them without can be horrifying. We know that when it comes to cutting back, cosmetics are seen as an essential. Wearing and buying cosmetics is not about vanity. It’s about giving a woman confidence to succeed in every area of their life."

I confess that in my Nars' Orgasm blush (which I swear I do not buy solely based on name) I feel pretty. Better yet, putting on make-up is a fun activity. I like trying out new lipsticks, and blending eye shadows to create a smoky eye, and experimenting with different colors of liner. The artistry of applying cosmetics is appealing, as is the playing of color and technique. But I don't feel like I have to be "done" all the time, and I certainly don't believe that I'm "horrifying" without my mascara. I have a few Urban Decay shadow palettes, one MAC lipstick, two Maybelline eye liners, a Dior Show mascara, a MAC foundation, and the aforementioned Nars blush, and that's it. Compared to this video featuring a woman in one years' worth of cosmetics, I'm under-performing. 


So what do you think about this study? How much makeup do you wear on a daily basis? When did you start experimenting with cosmetics? Do you regularly leave the house without makeup on? Are you self-conscious without it? 

Thrifted vintage top; thrifted vintage skirt; Michael Kors espadrille platforms; thrifted belt; Charming Charlie bracelets; Forever 21 hoops; Michael Kors rose gold watch

Outfit post: My stomach, myself

I was in the fourth grade when I first began hating my stomach.

It all started during a brief foray into the world of ballet. I was ten, just on the cusp of puberty, and approximately as graceful as a toddler. It didn't take long for me to notice how unlike my body was to my classmates, the winsome, delicate creatures who shared the floor. These other girls were whisper-thin visions of grace. They glided. They floated. They were long-limbs and knock-knees and bony elbows and protruding hipbones, pre-adolescent teacher's pets in pastel pink leotards. I wore florescent fuchsia and always had holes in my tights. And, even worse, I had a stomach. A stomach that jutted forward, straining the seams of my leotard. A stomach that tattled on my penchant for soft-serve ice cream cones. A stomach that stared back at me from the dance class mirrors defiantly, taunting me, comparing my tubby body to that of the lean girls around me.

I hated my stomach. I hated it for existing. I hated the fact that I couldn't suck it in. I hated that I couldn't wear crop tops. From then on, my stomach became the source of all my body hatred. This thing, this foreign sycophant-like thing, attached to my body, this thing I could not get rid of despite countless sit-ups. This stomach.

Over the years, as I plowed through puberty and adolescence and womanhood and post-pregnancy, my stomach became the first thing I'd check in the morning, and the last at night. The condition of my stomach defined my mood. If it was flat, I felt elated, confident. If it bulged, I felt defeated. During my darkest days of anorexia, I would lie in bed at night, hands rubbing my hipbones. They jutted forward emphatically, visible underneath my clothes, like two sharp handles. I was proud of those bones. But even then, malnourished and dehydrated and emaciated, my stomach seemed too big. I'd go through boxes of laxatives and diuretics to shrink it, eat minuscule amounts of food to eradicate it, and make it flatter and flatter. It still wasn't enough.

In the last two years, I have gained 30 pounds. This weight gain was necessary to restore my body back to health and reverse the heart damage twenty years of starvation caused. If I was going to live, I needed to gain the weight. And because I made the conscious decision to live, I gained. And, predictably, much of the weight traveled directly to my stomach

Here's the thing I've learned during the course of my recovery: Hating my stomach all those years didn't change a damm thing. I am not destined to have a perfectly flat stomach. I am never going to be one of those long-limb, lean creatures I see in pilates class, striding confidently in their booty shorts and sports bras. If I was going to recover, I had to let myself just be. I needed to accept my body just as it was.

Therapists call this the paradoxical theory of change. According to the Gestalt Therapy Page, “the premise is that one must stand in one place in order to have firm footing to move, and…it is difficult or impossible to move without that footing.”

In a lot of ways it makes perfect sense; when I hated my body so much that all I did was focus on changing it, it led me to beat myself up in ways that destroyed the intended effect. But when I started accepting my body as is, it allowed me to show my entire self – including my stomach – kindness and love. Which led to greater self-care.

If you had told me five years ago that I couldn’t change a thing until I fully accepted where I already was, I would have tried to get you some psychiatric help. But today I know better. I know that in my life, change doesn’t come from a place of self-hatred, but rather from a place of self-acceptance.

Rodarte for Target lace dress; Forever 21 lace crop top; Lucky Brand wedges; thrifted vintage bag; Charming Charlie bracelets; Michael Kors rose gold watch

Outfit Post: On self-awareness and being different

I am child of New York City. I rode the subway alone when I was fourteen. I know the difference between a bialey and a bagel. I can hail a cab in the rain like no one's business. And I'm a master at the fast walk without looking anyone in the eye because I'm very very very important, I have important places to go, can't you see how IMPORTANT I AM?

In the New York City of my adolescence, oddball and eccentric behavior was both welcomed and encouraged. I thought nothing of wearing neon fishnets under my ripped jeans and layering Catholic schoolgirl skirts with vintage lace blouses, leggings and Doc Martins. Conformity was a four-letter word, a disease best left to adults, or those that had the unfortunate condition of living in the (gasp!) suburbs.

And now, at 37, I live in the suburbs. I am nothing like my housewife neighbors, with their bedazzled capris and designer bags and bleached hair and penchant for gardening and sharing recipes and hosting Southern Living kitchenware parties. I stand out. I have bright red hair and an affinity for wearing vintage sequins while fetching my dry cleaning. I am pale, refusing daily trips to the tanning salon. Instead of scrapbooking and organizing neighborhood potlucks, I skulk around thrift stores. And I have many, many visible tattoos. I get looks when I venture into my suburban neighborhood - second glances, curious side-eye, or blatant, outright staring. And the majority of this eye contact isn't exactly friendly. A trip with my kids to the mall yesterday resulted in so much staring that I felt embarrassed, even ashamed, by the time I left.

It takes considerable courage to be different. Of course, being different extends far beyond what you chose to wear, or whether you have tattoos. Being different means embracing the opportunity to chose where your heart leads you. It can also include the freedom to start doing what you love, following the things you are interested in, and discovering the things you've always wanted to find. 

When I got home from the mall, I jumped on the computer to try and figure out others handled being different. I found that the key to embracing your uniqueness, the things that make you different, is self-acceptance. Self-acceptance means being loving and happy with whom you are NOW. It is an agreement with yourself to appreciate, validate, accept and support who you are, even those parts you’d like to eventually change. Self-acceptance is the willingness to embrace all the things about you that make you different, regardless of how you might compare to others.

When you lack self-acceptance, you’re more likely to struggle with low self-esteem, low self-confidence, and problems in relationships. The refusal to love and accept yourself might lead you to believe that you’re not rich enough, beautiful enough, loved enough, lucky enough, or successful enough. It might lead you to doubt who you are, and entice you into conformity.

Being different may set the stage for a lifetime of side-eye. But it's what makes you, you. You should be different. If there weren't people different from you, you would not be an individual.

So what makes you different? What are your quirks? Have you ever faced criticism for being different? Do you enjoy feeling different, or are you more comfortable blending in? Leave a comment, and share the things that make you different here!

Thrifted The Limited silk blouse; Gap bra; thrifted Escada skirt; Lucky Brand wedges; TIKKR watch, Charming Charlie bracelets

Outfit Post: Why my insurance company needs to cover retail therapy.

Life is stressful. There's pressure from jobs, with a constant influx of projects and deadlines and uncooperative coworkers and really, really bad food in the cafeteria. There's stress from spouses or boyfriends, niggling us with arguments about whose turn it is to fold the laundry and who forgot to pick up milk and good God, did you really forget the date of our anniversary? There's stress from raising children, from nagging mothers and sibling rivalries and wearing a swimsuit in public and cooking a healthy balanced low-fat 'clean' meal that's also edible and keeping the house clean and OH MY LORD,* STRESSY TIME* I AM GOING TO LOSE IT, LIKE PULL A BRITNEY AND SHAVE MY HEAD LOSE IT whine whine whine AARRRGGGHHHHH.

When I get stressed out, I typically engage in one of the following activities: 

• I hop on the treadmill and pound out three miles, 
• or I gather my friends and bond over snarky sarcastic quips and self-depreciating jokes (which I prefer over weepy conversations about my feeeeeeeelings),
• or I dissolve into a sniveling hot mess dry heaving in the bathroom,
• or I climb into my car and escape to a thrift store.

Truthfully, going thrifting is my preferred manage-the-stressy-time technique. There are few things that replicate the mind-zonk which shopping gives me. The outside world fades away until all that's left is me, the store I'm in, and that amazeballs beaded vintage purse, don't even look at it because I totes saw it first.

Stores don't care that my almost-teenage daughter insists on including an eye-roll with every conversation. Stores don't care that I'm riding the PMS roller coaster. Stores don't care that some anonymous coward left a nasty comment on my blog. Stores don't care that I'm turning 37 on Friday and the mere thought of another birthday makes me stabby. The purchase of a (insert item here) makes me feel, well, better. Even if that item is a $2 skirt from Texas Thrift.

A study published in Psychology and Marketing, entitled "Retail therapy: A strategic effort to improve mood," officially establishes what I've known for years.

"Retail therapy" is often applied to the notion of trying to cheer oneself up through the purchase of self-treats. The negative moods that lead to retail therapy, however, have also been associated with greater impulsivity and a lack of behavioral control. Does this lead to mindless shopping when consumers are "down" and regret later? The current work documents that a bad mood does lead to greater purchase and consumption of unplanned treats for the self. However, it also provides evidence that the consumption of self-treats can be strategically motivated. Those individuals who do indulge can also exercise restraint if the goal of restraint also leads to improved mood. Finally, retail therapy has lasting positive impacts on mood. Feelings of regret and guilt are not associated with the unplanned purchases made to repair a bad mood.

The study noted that "respondents bought clothing (26.1%), food (20.3%), electronics (17.4%), entertainment products (17.4%), accessories (e.g., jewelry and shoes) (12%), and other (e.g., household items) (6.8%) as treats," and they spent on average $59.18 to feel better about whatever's going on in their lives and $115.24 to celebrate an achievement.

And all this spending really did improve shoppers' moods: 82% were totally happy post-purchase and almost no one had buyer's remorse.

If you self-medicate through new clothes and shoes and cosmetics and bags, you are not alone. Of course, the high one gets from a new purchase is temporary - once the thrill of the new purchase fades, I'm still left with an obnoxious pre-teen and a middle-age birthday to wring my hands over.

Do you turn to shopping to alleviate stress? How often do you experience buyer's remorse? Do you ever buy yourself something just to feel better?

Urban Outfitters blouse; thrifted vintage silk skirt; H&M sandals; Charming Charlie bracelets; Forever 21 necklace; thrifted Michael Kors gold watch

Outfit Post: Happy Fourth!

Target tank; Gap Outlet sports bra; thrifted vintage silk skirt; White Mountain sandals; vintage estate sale clutch;  TIKKR watch; Forever 21 horn necklace; Charming Charlie gun necklace; Forever 21 rhinestone bracelets

Happy Fourth of July!

I hope you're enjoying your day with friends and family and barbecue. Because if there's one thing that The Fourth of July makes me think of, it's barbecues. But then again, most holidays have some sort of correlation with food in my head. I'll have to give that some thought. Later, when I'm done eating my burger and potato salad.

Outfit Post: Sweet summertime - Do you shop more in the summer?

Ah, summer. To many, summer conjures up memories of lazy afternoons on the beach, dipping toes into icy water and picnicking on the shore. For other people, summer symbolizes vacations at Disney World or Sea World or Six Flags, with sticky overpriced ice pops and standing on endless snaking lines. Summer might mean a reprieve from school, a road trip, an opportunity to barbecue every evening or nights spent camping under the stars.

For Texans, summer means one thing: Heat. Oppressive, stifling, melt-your-lipstick-into-a-greasy-puddle heat. Summer in Texas is third degree burns on your hands from touching the steering wheel. It is three showers a day. It is two cans of sunscreen a week because the ONLY thing you can think about doing is going to the pool, which by end of July feels about as refreshing as a hot tub.

But don't get me wrong. I hate the winter. A forecast of temperatures hovering around freezing leads me to unleash a string of profanities at Mother Nature, meteorologists, frosted windowpanes and soggy mittens. I spend the majority of winter huddled under down throw blankets, nursing mugs of tea while shivering next to my space heater. I hate gray snowy days. I abhor the time it takes me to heat up my car. I despise the fact that I always, ALWAYS lose one of my gloves during the first cold snap. I become a cranky, irritable, whiny douchecanoe filled with melancholy, reminiscing about days spent outdoors on restaurant patios drinking coffee, people watching, and blissfully bathing in sunlight.

However, if I was forced to admit to one enjoyable thing about winter, it would be dressing for it. Winter clothes are cozy and sensuous. Sometimes, when getting dressed on frigid mornings, I liked to pretend I'm a chic 1960's snow bunny vacationing in Aspen or St Moritz or some other glamorous wintry place. I would wear cozy sheepskin coats and hand knit scarves and adorably fluffy ear muffs with an charming, girlish look on my face. My hunky investment banker boyfriend would whisk me through aspen woods to our enchanted snow-covered cabin, luxuriously appointed in antlers and Ralph Lauren furniture and Native American textiles. He'd light a massive fire and play records while I nibbled on tapas and sipped red wine. It would all be very mountain resort opulence, with sable furs and Scandinavian quilts and four-ply cashmere sweaters and Turkish coffee laced with brandy. And horses. Horses we would ride bareback. Because that's how they do it in the Swiss Alps. Or so I've seen on The Travel Channel.

Despite my penchant for wool and velvet and cashmere, I cannot deny that summer clothes are both less expensive to shop for and much more fun. Tee shirts, simple cotton dresses and flowy maxi skirts are the foundations of my summer wardrobe, and I rarely (if ever) spend more than $30 on a garment. I feel more inclined to wear color and prints in the summer, and stores are more than eager to meet my demands. So Yes! I say, to strappy layered tanks. Yes! to metallic strappy sandals. And YES YES YES I MUST HAVE THAT GIMME GIMME to sunglasses and gauzy tunics and sleeveless blouses and cutoff shorts. There's always something new to buy - a bright pair of denim shorts, a floral skirt, a silk blouse. Furthermore, a stream of sunny, warm days only intensifies the impulse to shop. With layers impeding progress, shopping is infinitely more complicated in the winter, what with down coats, heavy sweaters and scarves to drag around.

The NY Times recently published an article regarding fast summer fashion, with the opinion that lower prices and a larger inventory encourage consumers to spend more on apparel in the warmer months.“People shop and dress differently in the summer,” said Catherine Moellering, the executive vice president of the Tobe Report, a trend forecasting firm. "Dressing is simpler, not as tricky. We all give ourselves a bit of a break.” Furthermore, she added: “The availability of inexpensive, high-turnover, trend-driven fashion encourages people to shop more often, because they know that they’re going to see something different, and that’s what they’re looking for.”

Fashion chains such as H&M, Forever 21, J Crew and Zara have become adept at churning out warm weather fashion, often replenishing inventory weekly or even daily. In summer, fabrics are lighter and less expensive to reproduce in nearly every segment of the marketplace. As a result, shoppers are quicker to open their wallets and buy items from a variety of stores, picking and choosing from different departments.

Now I ask you: Do you tend to shop more in the summer? Which season do you enjoy dressing more for, summer or winter? 

Thrifted Ann Taylor blouse; thrifted Theory skirt; White Mountain sandals; estate sale vintage clutch; Old navy belt; Charming Charlie bracelets

Get the look!

• J. P. Ourse & Cie. West Chester Clutch Wristlet 
• Industry IAS10-22 Clutch
• Theory 'Lilith' skirt
• Graphic print linen skirt
• White Mountain 'Dean' sandals
• White Mountain 'Minnie' sandals
• Michael Kors gold belt

Outfit Post - Guilt: Nobody's Fault But My Own

Allow me to being this post with a description of my typical evening routine. I have put my children to bed and returned lingering toys to their rightful home. I change into an ancient oversized tee, remove my jewelry, take out my contacts, wash my face, and turn on my bedside lamp. My Kindle waits patiently on my bedside table. I climb into the warm, welcoming embrace of my bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and settle in for what I hope to be a solid night's sleep.

It starts innocently enough. I have a new book to read. A book which cost twelve bucks for my Kindle. Did I really need to spend money on a new book? I shouldn't have done that. The library is a few miles down the road, and I probably could've borrowed the book for free. We're trying to save money for a family vacation and here I am, sabotaging those plans. And what about the money I spent on thrifting this week? And the money that went towards a new swim suit at Target? That was wrong too. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I feel terrible. I am a terrible, horrible, irresponsible person. I can't do anything right.

Before I know it, it's one am and I'm no closer to falling asleep than I was when I first got into bed.

This is only one example of the guilt I carry around with me. Truthfully, I feel guilty all the time. I feel guilty about that extra slice of pizza I scarfed down at dinner. I feel guilty for skipping a run last night. I feel guilty for not taking my kids to museums more often, for not keeping a perfectly clean house, for spending too much time on the computer, for speeding on the highway. No matter the offense, you can bet my conscious is paying for it.

Ninety-six percent of women feel guilty at least once a day, and sometimes as much as four times a day. My guilt attacks tends to come at night, when I have time to ruminate on all the ways in which I've screwed up. Guilt is defined as a feeling of culpability for offenses. When we feel responsible for an action we regret, those feelings translate into guilt. Guilt says "I've done something wrong, or made a mistake" and is often combined with remorse. (Note: Guilt and shame are often confused. Shame says "I am a mistake" and is a toxic, harmful emotion that eats away at your self-esteem. Guilt concerns what you did; shame is a judgment about who you are.)

Guilt serves its purposes sometimes. It helps us know when things are morally amiss in our lives, and can trigger the desire to make amends. But women take guilt to a whole new level. Women feel guilty because we can't be successful career professionals, perfect students, glamorous girlfriends with perfect bodies, style icons, and public servants all at the same time. Instead of noticing the good we do, we let the things we can't do immobilize us until we feel guilty most of the time. Symptoms of this mindset include:

• Feelings of inferiority. ''Other women pull all this off, why can't I?''
• Feelings of inadequacy. ''I have no talents, look at so-and-so, she's just so talented, but I can't do anything.''
• Feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. ''Nothing I do really matters, so why try?''
• Feelings of martyrdom. ''All I do is wait on everyone else – my husband, my spouse, my work clients, my children. I never get any me time and if I do, I just feel guilty for taking it.''

Studies have shown that women beat themselves up daily about their friendships, relationships, work and body shape. Almost half of all women are kept awake at night by guilt. Author Erica Jong has said, "Show me a woman who doesn’t feel guilty and I will show you a man."

Susan Carrell, author of Escaping Toxic Guilt, said: "Women feel guilt when they don’t think they are being good enough in their various roles – especially as wife, mother and daughter. That’s because familial, cultural and religious tenets teach women that being “good” is the most important thing. When a woman feels she is not putting another first, she quickly feels like she’s doing something bad, and then guilt rushes in." Women are more likely than men to internalise faults and admit to feeling guilty because “I am stupid", "I am a failure", and "I can't do anything right."

Guilt is a useless, toxic emotion, and serves only to shame us and point out our flaws. The only way around it is to give ourselves permission to be human. That means accepting our mistakes and refusing to allow them to define who we are.

Now it's your turn: Do you struggle with feeling guilty? What are some things you often feel guilty about?  Where do you think your issues with guilt stem from? Has guilt impacted your relationships?

Thrifted silk top; thrifted vintage 1950's skirt; H&M sandals; estate sale clutch; Michael Kors rose gold watch; Charming Charlie and forever 21 bracelets

Get the look:  

• Miu Miu silk blouse 
• Equipment sleeves blouse
• Asos sleeveless blouse
• MinkPink maxi skirt
• Vintage Golden Days maxi skirt
• Swedish Hasbeens clogs
• Small woven blue clutch
• J.P Ourse & Cie leather clutch
• Fossil Pop Stitch clutch

Outfit Post: Dressing rooms, crying, and why I'm over it.

I'm not big on crying in public. Don't misunderstand -  I am perfectly comfortable with expressing emotion. I just prefer to save my crying jags for the privacy of my own home. I occasionally tear up while listening to a heart-wrenching song on the radio, or after watching a sentimental television commercial, or during an affectionate moment with one of my children. I've cried while on the phone with a family member, and am quickly reduced to tears after an argument with my husband. And sometimes I cry for no reason at all. I've experienced those hysterical silent sobs where you can't catch your breathe and are gasping for air while your chest heaves and OH MY GOD I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE, LIKE LITERALLY DIE.  I am a lifetime member of the heart-on-sleeve club, and have learned to accept my propensity for tears.

While I consider public crying a no-no, tearing up in dressing rooms is another story. Off the top of my head, I can rattle off six times I've cried in a dressing room:

• Two weeks ago: Goodwill, Dallas location. J Crew silk babydoll dress. Tag clearly said it was a size zero, but I believed this to be false as the dress had an empire waist, appeared roomy, and J Crew has a propensity towards vanity sizing. Alas, it was accurate. I became a little tearful both in the dressing room AND in my car on the way home.
• Twenty-five years ago: Bloomingdale's lingerie department. My mother had taken me for my first bra fitting. I stood in the dressing room, quaking with fear and trembling with cold (why are dressing rooms always freezing? Are we meant to lose feeling in our extremities when trying on clothes?) Saleswoman emerges with four innocuous-looking training bras. All of which are too small. Saleswoman's reaction: "Hmmm, I'm usually great at judging sizes. But you're much...larger than other girls your age." My mom sighed indifferently while tears rolled down my cheeks.
• Thirteen years ago: Macy's bridal salon. Combed through the racks and found a lace ballgown with a sweetheart neckline, simple crepe bodice, and buttons down the back. Knew immediately after trying it on that it was the dress I was meant to have, and openly wept in my plush virginal-white dressing room. (The bridal attendant calmly handed me a box of Kleenex and went onto the next bride. Apparently this sort of thing happens all the time.)
• Twenty-one months ago, fresh home from a month-long inpatient hospital stay for anorexia, I made the foolish mistake of trying on clothes that swam on me before entering treatment. But this time, everything was too tight. I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour sobbing and gave serious thought to suicide.
• Six weeks ago, Salvation Army, Plano location. Went thrifting with an extremely petite, younger friend. Pulled on a pair of high-waist vintage denim shorts that were exactly like the pair she looked adorable in. The effect was not the same on me.
• Eleven years ago, Motherhood Maternity. Am nine months pregnant, swollen to the point where my only options in footwear are flip-flops, and am shopping for a formal maternity dress. Self explanatory.

Oh, the complexities of being a woman. If we're not thinking about clothes, or buying clothes, or thinking about clothes we want to buy, or trying on clothes, or wishing we fit into our old clothes, we might be crying. Crying because our ex-boyfriend is dating our former best friend; crying because got a bad grade on a paper; crying because we skipped a workout and feel badly about ourselves; crying because we're watching the Notebook and who doesn't cry while watching the Notebook; or crying because those adorable shoes at Anthropologie have not gone on sale yet and WTF Anthropologie???

Women cry, on average, four times as often as men - according to University of Minnesota neurologist William Frey, an average of 5.3 times per month, compared with 1.4 times for men. This isn't just a function of cultural training. Women actually produce far more prolactin, the hormone responsible for milk production that also controls the neurotransmitter receptors in our tear glands. Women’s tear ducts are also anatomically different from male tear ducts, resulting in a larger volume of tears. A propensity to cry is, in part, biologically driven.

I'm hopeful that my days of crying in dressing rooms are on the wane. As I become more accepting of my body, I realize that there are silhouettes that just aren't going to work for me, and that's okay. I will never be a size zero, and that's fine as well. From now on, I'll save the tears for sappy movies and sad songs and heart-tugging moments with my kids. I may occasionally cry at the airport, or the cash register. But crying in a dressing room? Over it.

Have you ever cried in a dressing room? What caused it? Can you remember other times that you've cried in public? Do you consider yourself a crier, or are you more inclined to choking back tears and holding things in?

Target tanks; thrifted vintage skirts; Gap sandals; Forever 21 necklaces; Charming Charlie bracelets; Michael Kors rose gold watch

Like this look? Find similar pieces here,  here, here, here, here, here, and here.