{Thrifting 101} I thrifted: Linen and gold 6.14.12

Vintage linen vest? Thrifted, $3.99. American Eagle striped shirt? Thrifted, $2.99. Shorts? Thrifted, $2.99. Vintage Coach satchel? Thrifted, $10.00. Bracelets? Forever 21, $8.00.

 Michael Kors rose gold watch? Thrifted, $40.00.

There's something about wearing an entirely thrifted outfit that makes me feel good, much in the same way eating chocolate chip cookies does (because they're essentially a hug for your mouth.) A thrifted outfit admits to the world both that I'm both an unbridled cheapskate and stubborn shopper, the kind that spends hours digging through racks while tolerating grimy hands and allergic reactions to dust all for the sweet satisfaction of an outfit that cost less than a tank of gas.

I spied this vest during a brief thrifting excursion last week. I was in a hurry, and I didn't buy it. But it haunted me so persistently that I returned to the store the very next day in search of it.

What would you wear with this linen vest? Give me some of your outfit ideas!

{Almost daily outfit of the day} A hair don't 4.23.12

Thrifted Zara blouse; Gap trousers; Old Navy belt; Steve Madden pumps; thrifted vintage Coach bag; Forever 21 bracelets

I am at that uncomfortable almost-need-a-haircut phase that happens approximately four weeks after getting a haircut. This never fails to coincide with an perplexing increase in compliments regarding my hair, leading to put off the haircut much longer than I should. I spend an embarrassing amount of time debating whether I really do need a haircut, or whether I can stand feeling like a hippie for a bit longer. I suspect all us short hair girls go through this. Do we chop it off, or grow it out? Do we experiment with headbands and fanciful hair clips or go in for regular trims? WHAT IN GOD'S GREAT NAME DOES OUR HAIR WANT FROM US ANYWAY AAAAARRGGGGHHHHH???

I have an appointment for a trim on Friday. Which I will probably regret. But it's better than feeling like a hippie.

How often do you go between haircuts?

{Almost daily outfit of the day} In the trenches 3.20.12

Thrifted Norma Kamali trench coat; Gap Outlet jeans; thrifted Gap chambray blouse; Ellen Tracy heels; thrifted Coach "Willis' satchel; Old Navy belt; Forever 21 bracelets

I want you all to know that I tried very hard to prevent this post from dissolving into a discussion about Downton Abbey, but I am so obsessed with that show that I could not continue without it. I am convinced that Netflix added Downton Abby because they're planning to take over the world while the rest of us get nothing done. If you haven't seen Downton Abbey, the show captures the behavior of an aristocratic family and their meddling but loyal servants against the rigid societal boundaries of the Victorian era. Today's photos, containing my recently thrifted trench coat, instantly reminded me of the intrigue and diabolical manipulation at play between Downton characters. Let's hope the show doesn't kindle a longing for corsets. That would be too much.

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Suede. 2.24.12

Vintage thrifted silk blouse; vintage thrifted suede skirt; thrifted Marc Fisher loafers; vintage thrifted Coach bag; Forever 21 and vintage bracelets

I don't wear this skirt that often, but it's one of my favorites. I love the soft suede, and the way it swishes around my calves. I dug this skirt our of the racks of a truly disgusting thrift store. If my memory serves correct, two drunk old men were behind me on line as I waited, skirt in hand, to pay, and one of them peed himself. Good times.

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Pop of neon for Poshmark! 2.22.12

Vintage thrifted chambray shirt; Current/Elliott jeans; Forever 21 belt; vintage thrifted Coach bag; vintage thrifted Bruno Magli heels; Forever 21 and vintage bracelets

This morning I'm off to meet with the PR rep, co-founder, and senior marketing manager of Poshmark in preparation for tonight's Posh Party here in Dallas. I'll be co-hosting the event, representing the Texas Style Council Conference, and am super excited to meet and mingle with other Dallas blogger.

It's going to be warm and sunny today, and I wanted to be both comfortable and stylish. Reaching for a new pair of heels and broken-in jeans was kind of a no-brainer. The pop of neon in my belt was a fun way to add come color!

You might be wondering... What is Poshmark? Well, have you ever wished you could post an item for sale right from your iPhone, without the hassle and risk of eBay? With the Poshmark app, you snap a few photos with your iPhone, and enter a title, description, price, and product category. Once finished, voila! Your item is ready to list for sale.

I'm going to list several things for sale tonight, so you might want to follow me in the app -- my user name is elissastern -- if you love designer handbags (*hint* Marc Jacobs *hint*.) Here are a few more tidbits about this revolutionary way to shop your closet:

• The Poshmark app offers several Instagram-like photo filters for enhancing your listing's appearance.
• Listing is free on Poshmark, and fees are straight-forward. When you make a sale, Poshmark deducts a 20% commission fee from your earnings. In return, they handle the financial transaction, provide you with a pre-paid pre-addressed shipping label, and serve as your customer support team for the sale.
• Download Poshmark for the iPhone for free from the App Store: bitly.com/poshmark. According to the FAQs, an android app is on the horizon!
• The Poshmark app is currently only available in the US.
• Love someone’s style? Follow them in the app to have easy access to their items for sale. It’s easy to like, post comments and share each others items in the app!

Tonight's party theme is designer shoes and handbags, and I’m planning to list a few items during the party. However, you don’t have to wait for the party to post items or start shopping! Start uploading your own items and join me virtually during tonight's event!

Tweet me at @dresscourage or post a comment below if you are going to join us for the party tonight! If you will be at the Dallas event, please come say hi. :)

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Gloomy blues 2.17.12

Vintage thrifted blazer; vintage thrifted blouse; thrifted Seven For All Mankind jeans; thrifted Coach ballet flats; thrifted Coach bag; Old Navy belt

If I am wearing jeans, it's for one of three reasons:

1. In a tragic twist of circumstance, I have become trapped under something heavy inside my closet, and am thus only able to reach a rogue pair of jeans that has escaped its hanger and become abandoned on the floor.
2. Each and every pair of Spanx I own is swimming languidly in my washing machine.
3. It's raining.

Today, we're going with option number three. It's hard to be inspired to dress creatively when skies are overcast and gloomy, and the only thing I plan to do is beach myself on the couch, eat takeout pad thai,  and watch Gwyneth Paltrow die a grisly, painful death in Contagion.

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Kind of blue 2.6.12

Thrifted J Crew chambray shirt; thrifted vintage suede skirt; Hue tights; thrifted Cole Haan shoes; thrifted vintage Coach bag

In Greek mythology, the god Zeus would cause it to rain when he was sad and storm when he was angry. Because of this, the blue color of the oceans became related to to sadness. But blue is more than symbolic of melancholy. It's the sunny sky of a hot summer day. It's a pair of suede shoes immortalized in a rockabilly standard. It's a bucket of berries ready to bake in muffins, and the pale color of a newborn baby's eyes. Blue is commonly used in the Western hemisphere to symbolize the male gender in contrast to pink used for females, although in the early 1900s, blue was the color for girls (as it had traditionally been the color of the Virgin Mary in Western Art) and pink was for boys (as it was akin to the color red, considered a masculine color.

Blue is also the predominant color in my closet. It's a neutral, a color that seems to go with everything, and the color I reach for the most. This outfit might be the closest I ever get to monochromatic dressing. Zeus would be pleased.

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Five a.m 2.3.12

Thrifted vintage blazer; thrifted J Crew button-down; thrifted vintage Levi's (chopped by me); Target tights; vintage thrifted Coach satchel; thrifted Marc Fisher loafers

I have gotten into the bewildering habit of waking up exactly 45 minutes before my alarm goes off. I startle suddenly out of a deep sleep, glance at the alarm clock, curse, and implore myself not to fall back asleep because, well, what's the point. After which I naturally fall back asleep and have a hallucinogenic dream where I'm stuck on the 1 line of the NYC subway and am being chased by a man trying to sell me Anna Wintour's collection of Chanel twin sets. Maybe this is just what happens when you get older. Soon I'll be eating dinner at 4 pm, upping my fiber content, watching old episodes of Matlock and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.

Thrifting 101: What I Thrift For

Allow me, for a moment, to share what I did last week.

On Monday I went thrifting. On Tuesday I went thrifting. On Wednesday and Thursday and Friday I went thrifting. Thrifting is magic, I think. There's something about the thrill of the hunt, buying things I wouldn't normally be able to afford, and coming home with a bag filled with vintage treasures for less than $20. I love perusing the racks, sifting and digging and excavating. And then, in the middle of polyester blazers and pleated pants and oversize sweaters, it happens. A gem is found.

Though my thrifting goals change with the seasons, there are some designers and items that remain perennial favorites. These are things I look for every single time I hit a thrift store.

Sequins

I am not a glamorous eighties soap star. Nor am I a socialite in need of evening wear for charity events hosted for obscure diseases such as amoebic dysentery. Nope, I'm a normal stay-at-home mom with an addiction to Shipping Wars and shameful habit of feeding my kids frozen chicken nuggets. And yet, somehow, I'm drawn to sequined clothing. I squeal when I come across a beaded top or sparkling blouse in a thrift store. They look so pretty hanging in my closet, and elevate an ordinary pair of jeans into something special and unique.

Victor Costa

We all have our favorite designers. Some might lust for Chanel, while others are perfectly happy with Zara or the Gap. As for me? I prefer a scandalous 1970's and 80's designer who blatantly ripped off couture collections and created 1950's silhouettes in evening gowns and formal wear. I love Victor Costa so much that I devoted an entire post in my Thrifting 101 series to him. Victor Costa's clothes are highly collectable, but I have had great luck finding pieces in the Goodwill, Salvation Army, and antique malls.

The Unique and Unusual

This is a 1980's blue denim acid wash cocoon jacket with intricate beading made on an Indian reservation. It is, quite possibly, the ugliest and the most fascinating thing in my closet. I might never wear it...but I'm glad I thrifted it. This sartorial mistake is a piece of fashion history, representing a decade of gaudy excess. I've never seen anything like it, and I might not again.

Classic Coach

There is absolutely no reason to plunk down $200 or more on a reissued classic Coach bag when there are plenty to be found at thrift stores. While it's more unusual to score one at a Goodwill or Salvation Army than a charity shop, it does happen. I found this beauty a week ago at a Goodwill, and it's as good as new.

(If you don't have the patience to thrift for Coach, no worries - I'm running a giveaway for a Coach Willis satchel! Enter here to win. Giveaway ends tomorrow!)

What are some things you always look for when you go thrifting? Do you have any favorite designers, silhouettes, or accessories that you're drawn to?

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Pose 1.25.12

Hunt. Gather. Style vintage Jordache blazer; thrifted J Crew blouse; thrifted J Brand jeans; Old Navy belt; Dolce Vita wedges; vintage thrifted Coach satchel (win its twin in  my giveaway!)

I can't recall the names of the first personal style blogs I ever read. I don't remember the first posts I skimmed, or what the outfits contained within them looked like (though I am almost certain they involved Jeffrey Campbell shoes.) But I very vividly remember the bewilderment I felt. Who were these women with their penchant for posing in public? What made them drag their cameras and tripods or boyfriends or best friends out into the woods or parking lots or alleyways or abandoned warehouses to take pictures of themselves? What motivated them to do so? Was this vapid narcissism run amok or a new, revolutionary art form? What the heck was going on, anyway???

Yesterday I became one of those women. For the first time in the history of my blog, I left the safely guarded confines of my backyard for an alley with an even more interesting brick wall than I usually pose in front of. I ignored the curious looks of passerby. I gathered my strength, smiled widely, posed, and got the hell out of there. It felt curiously great.

Giveaway time: Win a vintage Coach Willis satchel!

Sometimes lightning strikes twice.

Back in the spring, I came across a vintage Coach Willis satchel while thrifting in a Goodwill. Priced at less than twenty bucks, I bought it immediately. I've used that bag more than any other in my wardrobe, and considered it a true blessing from the thrifting gods.

Yesterday I went on another thrifting excursion, this time to a different store, and what did I come across? The exact same vintage Coach satchel, looking all lonely and abandoned behind the register.

I couldn't very well just leave it there. So I decided it would make a fantastic giveaway here on the blog.

This bag is exactly like the classic Coach Willis satchel here on the Coach website, though it does not have an adjustable shoulder strap. And it won't cost you $298. It has faded into a very rich brown and is in excellent vintage condition, with just a bit of darkening on the top handle and strap. There's also a pen mark on the inside flap, though it is not noticeable at all. I've given the bag a thorough cleaning and it really is gorgeous!

To enter to win this vintage Coach bag, simply do the following:

• Follow me through Google Friend Connect (button is a bit down on my right sidebar.)

For additional bonus entries:

• Follow me on Twitter;
• and tweet the following about the giveaway: I just entered to win a #vintage @Coach Willis satchel from @dresscourage. You have a chance to win too! http://tinyurl.com/7ojpem5

That's it! Please leave a separate comment with each entry, including your email address so I can contact you if you win. US residents only. Giveaway ends on February 3rd. Winner will be drawn using Random.org.

This giveaway is sponsored by me. Coach has no idea who I am. I could fall off the face of the Earth tomorrow and Coach would never know.

{Almost daily outfit of the day} Flummoxed. 1.6.12

Thrifted Gap cardigan; American Eagle thermal tee; Gap legging jeans; Gap belt; DSW boots; thrifted vintage Coach bag

I tend to avoid waxing poetic about my clothes too much here on the blog. But today I would like to address the love-hate relationship I have with this cardigan. Wearing it demands the labor-intensive, fastidious, and specific placement of a belt to ensure the presence of my waist and prevention of unflattering bunching and resulting illusion of a food baby. Furthermore, the heavy wool knit demands a cold, blustery day to avoid sweltering to death. However, the cardigan's dreamy colors and cozy hug comfort me in a way few articles of clothing do. I suppose that in clothes, much as in life, you can't have it all.

This week I Thrifted: Yellow corduroy

Vintage thrifted fisherman sweater; thrifted J Crew chambray shirt; thrifted Gap corduroys; thrifted J Crew boots; thrifted vintage Coach bag.

It's 1986. I'm in the sixth grade. I have long, frizzy hair that tangles into knots the size of my fist and a binder covered with Lisa Frank stickers. My class is putting on a off-off-off-off Broadway production of a play loosely based on Vivaldi's The Four Seasons (don't ask.) I have been cast as The Sun. This is the penultimate moment of my short, unremarkable theatrical career. I spend weeks memorizing my line, reciting it with the same vigor Shakespearean actors reserve for gut-retching, macabre soliloquies about death. This is a big deal. I am an Actor, and not just any actor - I am The Sun. This is my time.

A week before my performance, I am ushered into the girls room, where a shrill collective of PTA mothers have prepared my costume - a long-sleeved leotard, flimsy sheer skirt, and tights. All in yellow. And not a pale, delicate, dainty yellow. No, this is an aggressive, harsh yellow, the same shade used on street signs to alert traffic and painted on school buses to ensure the safety of children. There was nothing glamorous or regal about this costume. In the harsh light of the bathroom, it looked cheap and unfinished. Where was my crown of glistening diamonds, my scepter, my royal robes edged in sumptuous fur? Where were my golden slippers and dazzling rings?  And, while I was asking, what about my private dressing room, appointed with white lilies, diet Coke chilled to precisely 42 degrees and bowls of red Skittles?  This was an outrage.

I was instantly reminded of this incident when I thrifted these yellow corduroys this week. Corduroy always reminds me of school, with it's strong ties to chilly late autumn weather. And yellow triggers memories of my early theatrical experience, traumatic as it was.

Somehow I learned to function without my royal robes and luxurious appointments, and make yellow work for me. Perhaps that acting thing wasn't so bad after all.

This week I thrifted: Pendleton blazer

Vintage thrifted Pendleton blazer; thrifted J Crew sweater; thrifted Joe's Jeans; Coach ballet flats

There are certain dreams I've held on to since I  left girlhood and became a grown-up. Some are small, like the ability to make it through a day without spilling something on myself, and programming the clock on my DVD player, and parallel parking without backing up on the curb or hitting the car in front of me. But some dreams are bigger. These dreams, the big dreams, are so big that I don't often allow myself to think them, much less pin any real hope on them coming true. They include things like having hair exactly like Zooey Deschannel's. And becoming an equestrian. And finding the perfect pair of jeans in just the right wash (slightly dark) and cut (slim, but not too skinny.) And finally being able to run more than five miles straight without dry-heaving. You know - the big dreams.

Since I began thrifting as a broke high school student, I've been looking for a white or off-white Pendleton blazer. The blazer should be single-breasted and shrunken; fully lined and made from a pristine wool; and absent of moth holes and stains. It should cost less than $6. And it absolutely has to be made by Pendleton, a brand I've long associated with quality, tradition, and Americana. This blazer has been my Holy Grail for twenty years. When I go thrifting, I often head straight to the blazer section in the vain hope that my Pendleton will somehow, inexplicably, be waiting for me.

This week I found it.

I suppose I should focus my energy on improving my parallel-parking skills now.

Almost daily outfit of the day: x' (shorts) + y2 (tights) = k e2 (ugh)

Old Navy sweater; thrifted Gap gingham shirt; Gap Outlet shorts; We Love Colors tights; thrifted vintage Cole Haan boots; thrifted vintage satchel

When I was younger, my arch nemesis was math. I hated math. I moaned and groaned through lessons at school. I procrastinated on my homework. I flunked tests in a tragically magnificent manner, earning single-digit scores that led to painful conferences between my parents and teachers. It became kind of a family joke, Elissa and her math problems. Eventually my parents found before and after-school tutors, and I spent long, long, long hours sitting through private instruction, watching the clock tick depressingly towards oblivion.

The worst thing about my math disability wasn't my failing grades. No, the worst thing was the hope and optimism I felt before each test, only to discover that I'd flunked. One particularly tragic exam from my junior year comes to mind. I was absolutely convinced I'd not only passed that midterm, but aced it. Finally I had conquered my math demon. My parents could stop shelling out money on tutors and spend it on something useful, like a pony. Schoolmates would line up at my door, begging me for the secret formula to my math genius. My cousins would stop making fun of me for my inability to calculate fourth-grade fractions. I had made it.

If memory serves me correctly, my grade on that exam hovered in the forties.

I feel that today's shorts and tights outfit strikes a similar chord. When I got dressed this morning, I was sure I'd nailed this look. I carefully studied images on Pinterest with women in shorts and tights, and took inspiration from their denim and boots. I waltzed out of my house with a confident strut. Now, I'm not so convinced. And if a quadratic equation exists that can solve the problem, I'm beyond hope.

Thrifting 101 - This week I thrifted: Vintage wool cardigan

Vintage thrifted cardigan; thrifted Madewell pants; thrifted vintage Wrangler shirt; vintage thrifted loafers; thrifted Coach bag

Let's start today's Thrifting 101 post with a little word association game. What pops into your head when you hear the word 'autumn?' Maybe you think of the shift in seasons from warm weather to chilly temperatures. Perhaps it leads you to remember the start of school, of freshly sharpened pencils and new school supplies and your evil 3rd grade teacher who refused to say your name correctly (thanks a lot, Mrs. Edwards.) Autumn might also trigger memories of playing in piles of fall leaves, their bright colors sprinkled across your backyard like confetti.

When I hear the word 'autumn', I think of cardigans. That's basically it. Oh, and pumpkin things, but that's for another post. There's something joyful about a cardigan. It's warm, and snuggly, and can be worn with basically anything. I'm partial to the kind of chunky cardigans that affectionately nuzzle my neck and look as if they'd been knit by a Nordic grandmother, the kind that always has hard candies in her pocket.

I found this vintage cardigan in a newly discovered thrift store last week for less than $3. I'd like to imagine it was worn by a 1960's collegiate as she dashed across campus, scattering leaves across the sidewalk.

Do you have a favorite cardigan? And what do you think of when you hear the word 'autumn?'

In case you missed it:

• Today is the last day to enter to  win a large Missoni for Target cosmetics case and $25 gift card to Starbucks! Get your entry in!

Thrifting 101 - This week I thrifted: Fisherman sweater

Thrifted vintage sweater; thrifted Forever 21 plaid shirt; Gap legging jeans; vintage thrifed Coach bag; DSW boots

Anyone who came of age in the '8o's has dealt with the painful reckoning of their class photos, or really any photographs taken during that decade. I believe that, hands down, it was the most hideous fashion decade of all time (with the possible exception of the 1600's, during which men sauntered around in cropped pants with tights and powdered wigs and bathing was purely optional.)

The '80's are usually associated with excess - bedazzled sweaters, exaggerated shoulder pads, and blue eyeshadow sweeping towards your eyebrows. But in 1980's Long Island, New York, the preppy look prevailed. My early adolescence was all about being preppy. Preppy was Ralph Lauren pleated chinos and pastel oxford shirts and pearl stud earrings. Preppy was boat shoes and argyle sweaters and corduroy. Preppy was plaid, and Lacoste, and wearing your boyfriend's class ring on a chain around your neck.  And preppy was also cream fisherman sweaters, preferably ordered out of the J Crew or LL Bean catalog. Thickly knit with a boxy cut, this sweater was usually paired with a plaid shirt and played an instrumental role in any prepster's wardrobe. I suppose one was supposed to wear it while yachting around the Cape, or performing some other nautical WASP-y recreational sport.

Back in the '80's, I too had a fisherman sweater. Mine was from JC Penney and knit from a tortuously itchy wool/poly blend - the poor girl's version of the J Crew sweater. It scratched my neck. The sleeves were too snug for layering. And it made me sweaty. But despite my sweater's shortcomings, I loved it fiercely. I saved it for special occasions like my 8th grade class photo, which I came across while sifting through my garage this week.

Imagine my delight upon discovering a near-identical sweater when I was thrifting on Tuesday. This version is more fisherman "inspired" than the traditional version, but it's hand-knit and much softer than the sweater of my childhood. And for $2.99, it manages to be  an affordable, versatile piece in my wardrobe, while reminding of me of the carefree days of my youth. Blue eyeshadow notwithstanding.

And it made me very very happy.

Almost daily outfit 9.27: Nobody puts Baby in a corner

Thrifted Ralph Lauren linen shirt; thrifted vintage Levis cutoffs; Gap sandals; thrifted Coach bag; Target belt; Dolly Python cuff;

Last week I thrifted a pair of old, worn out Levis with the sole purpose of chopping them into shorts. (This is the closest I'll ever come to exhibiting a DIY on this blog, by the way. Pinkie swear.) Because I am a child of the eighties, denim cutoffs make me think of one thing, and one thing only - Dirty Dancing. Also known as The Greatest Movie Ever Scripted. In cutoffs, I become Baby, a cynical daddy's girl intent on joining the Peace Corps until becoming entranced by bad-boy Johnny and doing elaborate dance moves with him in a lake. Baby wears her cutoffs, which look suspiciously like the same ones I purchased from the Gap in 1987, everywhere. She wears them while seductively walking down flights of stairs. She wears them while simultaneously slithering and lip-synching across a dance floor. The cutoffs are even there while she tries on wigs with her exhausting, jealous sister in some weird group class on the near-defunct Poconos resort she's staying in.

So this post is dedicated to you, Baby. You wore cutoffs, carried a watermelon, and fell into my heart.

 In case you missed it:

• Enter my giveaway to win a winter accessories set from Missoni for Target! Giveaway ends October 7th.

 

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.