Month: March 2018

Style Conflicts

If you’ve been reading this blog for more than a minute, then you’re probably familiar with my on-going struggle to properly, and fully, define my style. It feels like I’ve been at it for approximately eleventy million years, but maybe it was only two. Regardless, it has been going on way too long. As a result, while I love most of the individual pieces in my closet, I am vaguely dissatisfied with my wardrobe as a whole. And, still, too many of my outfits – which are, honestly, perfectly fine – end up making me feel like I’m missing my mark, sartorially speaking.

I was scrolling through Instagram recently I came across a picture on my “discover” page that made my heart leap. It was this one, courtesy of the official Oak & Fort account:

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This is basically my dream outfit, here and now. It is a little on the too-casual side for my office, but its vibe could easily be adaptable to suit my pretty lenient dress code.

Gosh, I love it so much.

The muted, soft colours. The textures. The slouchiness that looks polished, not sloppy, somehow. The lines.

Love.

The problem … and you can probably guess where this is going … the problem is that only about, hmmm, 40% of my wardrobe falls in line with this style, whatever you want to call it. (Scandi minimalism?) The rest reflects my old style preferences – more feminine, fitted, bold. And they are pieces that I still love in an objective sense; they are perfectly lovely. Hence, my dilemma: what do I do?

There is a part of me who says: clear out everything that doesn’t work anymore, and start with a clean slate. I mean, I would still have more than enough clothes to get dressed for day-to-day, while in the process of adding new pieces to suit my current aesthetic. Lately, I have been getting better about sticking to that approach with new purchases anyway. And yet … there is a really strong, almost visceral, inner resistance to this idea.

Which I find really interesting, to be honest – especially now that it has dawned on me that maybe my reaction isn’t necessarily tied to the clothes themselves. Maybe what I am resisting is not the letting go of clothes, but of some previous version of myself. I mean, you can call that an epiphany.

(It makes sense, though. Clothes have been a huge aspect of my self-expression for almost a decade now.)

The last few years have been full of changes and upheavals. I think it’s hard to pinpoint a moment of “rebirth” as it is happening (change is a constant process), but perhaps this is one. I always thought moments like that would/should feel sort of … triumphant, I guess. So why does it all feel so uncertain right now? Why is it so hard to let go of things which used to bring me so much joy, but don’t as much now? It’s almost as if I don’t trust myself in this moment to know what I really want. What if I change my mind? What if I will regret giving up all these clothes I invested so much time in finding in the first place?

As I ponder what to do next, I would love to hear from you: have you gone through a big style shift, and if so, how did you manage the process?

What I Read: Girl Power Edition

I know I promised you something else last time – and I will updated my blog roll one of these days, I swear – but today I’m going to tell you about what I’ve been reading recently.

First, thanks to all of you who recommended the Maisie Dobbs series to me. I’ve read 3 of the books now, and I’m enjoying the series a lot. It reminds me of the Miss Fisher mysteries, except without all the money angst on my part. Sidenote: I cannot be the only person who found Phryne’s spending to be anxiety-inducing. I rarely get so invested in the financial lives of imaginary characters, but I was constantly on edge about that when I first started reading the series. By comparison, Maisie is a model of fiscal responsibility, which I appreciate because it allows me to focus on the plot. The slight “woo” aspect of the character – Maisie meditates at murder scenes to get a “feel” for the victim/killer? Something to that effect, anyway – threw me off at first, but I otherwise enjoy the psychological angle that she brings to her cases. And I like the whole “independent modern woman” angle, obviously. Overall, the writing is good, and the whodunnits are interesting enough, so the series makes for a pleasant escape. My only quibble is that the paperbacks in this series are expensive to buy, and rarely turn up at the thrift store; my only other option is the public library, which is not close to my house so … bah humbug.

My second book recc is A House Full of Women by Juliet Nicolson, which was a random thrift find. [Note to self: I need to spend more time looking at the non-fiction section in thrift stores.] This is a family memoir of 7 generations of women in the author’s family, starting with her great-great-grandmother. Her grandmother was Vita Sackville-West, whose name was familiar to me but about whom I didn’t know much except that she ran in the same circles as Virginia Woolf and that Bloomsbury crowd. Anyway, the family had plenty of scandals and interesting chapters in its history, which are detailed with a great deal of candour by Nicolson. [Spoiler warning: Victorians were, apparently, quite the randy bunch.]

As an only child of an only child, I have always been fascinated by large families with rich histories. I know a lot about my grandparents on both sides, and a little bit about my great-grandparents, but I’d be hard-pressed to say anything about any earlier branches of my family tree. I don’t even know names, much less have any contemporary records. So the idea of being able to trace your family history – supporting by voluminous written materials, including correspondence, diaries, etc. – back even two hundred years is amazing to me. So I liked the idea of A House Full of Women in principle, and also found it an enjoyable read. It did make me want to read a full-length biography of Sackville-West and some of her contemporaries.

Since I am trying to temper my Amazon addiction, I didn’t rush to immediately look up new biographies. Instead, I went to my library and pulled out Savage Beauty, a biography of one of my favourite poets, Edna St. Vincent Millay. She was American, not British, but reached the height of her fame in the 1930s. This is one of two Millay biographies I own, and after re-reading it, I realized that it’s probably my second favourite. The other is called What Lips My Lips Have Kissed. With that said, I would recommend either book. Millay was, in many ways, ahead of her time and skirted society’s expectations for women of her era. She was very protective of, and ultimately devoted to, her creative calling as a poet, placing it near the top or at the top of her priority list throughout her life – which made many of her lovers feel resentful. What’s interesting to me is that, whatever her faults as a friend or lover, she wasn’t really doing anything different from what other celebrated male writers have done for centuries. The only difference, of course: she was a woman.

What I would like to read next is a history of France during the Middle Ages; if anyone has recc’s, please send them my way. And, as always, I would love to hear what’s on your reading list.