Thrifting has its downsides. There, I said it. The main one, in my opinion, is that it introduces you to nice, expensive things at a completely affordable price point … but it offers no guarantee of supply. One recent example was a magazine I picked up at Value Village for 99 cents (plus tax). It wasn’t just a regular magazine, it was a special edition of French Vogue featuring the 2015 Spring/Summer collections (Paris, New York, Milan, London). The entire thing was basically a photo-book report on that season’s collections, and it was amazing. Minimal ads and text. Pages and pages of runway photos. I spent a blissful hour or two poring over it. And then I wanted to see more. Have never seen one of these magazines at the thrift store before, probably won’t again.

Do you know how much these magazines normally run?

$40CAD plus tax.

No joke.

I know, I know. Vogue has an online database of runway collections, free to access. Somehow, it’s not the same. I like having all the (physical) photos in front of me. And being a person with a decent chunk of disposable income, I went and scratched the itch; I bought the 2019-2020 Fall/Winter collections edition at Chapters. It was painful, but I managed to rationalize it. Still – dammit it, thrifting, for introducing me to yet another expensive habit.

All that being said, let’s get to the real point of this post.

For years, I did not look at runway collections, finding them irrelevant to my experiences as an average consumer in a non-major urban centre. As I have shifted my perspective on style recently – approaching it more as an art form/means of creative expression – I have begun to appreciate couture again. It’s a point of view. It might not be directly applicable or translatable to my real life needs, but it can inform the way in which I look at and use clothes. I am also reconsidering the idea of “inspo”. I’ve never been a huge fan of copying others’ outfits, but the process doesn’t have to be that literal. The best sources of inspirations are those which push me to see things from a fresh perspective, to ask myself “but what about this?”

I found flipping through the photos from the collections to be a great creativity-sparking exercise. At a high level, just seeing all the different silhouettes, styles, styling choices, colours, textures, and so on, made me feel inspired … not to go out and buy new things, but to go through my closet and try new things. Then there were dozens of outfits that I went to analyze more closely – things that caught my eye on a page, made me go “wow”. I looked at these and tried to break them down: what message/feeling did each look convey to me, what did I like about them, what elements would translate to my personal style, etc.

I thought it might be interesting to some of you if I ran through an example. This is a more literal case than most, but that’s because Dries Van Noten speaks my language, style-wise.

Let’s start at the beginning. What I loved about the original was the Bohemian-Adventurer flair, seemingly haphazardly assembled but with a keen eye to the overall harmony of the outfit. I loved the drama of the fur collar, and how the ornate top was juxtaposed with the other pieces, yet brought them together in a really cool, unexpected way. I liked the volume of the pants, and how the outfit retained its slim vertical lines despite all the layers. And somewhere in the mix, there is a kind of devil-may-care attitude that I would love to bring to my own life (even just a little).

As I said, my resulting “inspired by” look is a fairly close translation of the original. The pants have an interesting shape and volume, and the high waist works well with a cropped jacket, keeping the vertical lines. The waistband offered a good contrast with the bright print top, adding a bit of Bohemian flair. The top was probably the one item I would not normally have used in an outfit like this, were it not for the Dries inspiration. (I could see myself pairing these pants and jacket, because the proportions work so well). But I like it here. In fact, this outfit works equally well without the jacket, which I ended up taking off as the day got warmer.

The one thing I chose to forego from the inspo was the extra accessory. I think the necklace is a fabulous styling choice on the runway, but for my real life, the outfit was enough of a “statement” without anything like that.

I have been doing similar exercises as I come across runway looks that really speak to me, so let me know if you would be interested in more posts like this.

Mish Mash Flair

My BFF is currently obsessed with Ari Aster’s Midsommar so I chose to wear this blouse as a sort of tribute to that whole aesthetic. The rest of the outfit was a total grab bag of stuff, though. Somehow, it came together quite nicely. I attribute it to my favourite pendant (well, one of them) because it ties everything together.

Notes: Jil Sander jacket (thrifted, $10); H&M blouse (thrifted, $8.50); Cartonnier pants (secondhand, $20); Rafael necklace (eBay, $80); Derek Lam flats (thrifted, $12).

Light Gothic

I added a new Rafael necklace to my collection (of course), and it just so happened to vibe perfectly with this outfit I had planned for a Saturday outing with the fam. I have been remiss in not giving this Rick Owens dress the attention it deserves, so the idea was to remedy my neglect. I also wanted to try something different with it, so I layered it over a knit tunic instead of its usual slip. I love how the muted greys of these two pieces work together. And yes, please believe me when I say I actually wore this, in July. Such is the state of our summer. In fact, I added the leather jacket as a necessity. Sigh.

Notes: Rick Owens dress (secondhand, $133); by Malene Birger tunic (thrifted, $9); Iris Setlakwe leggings (thrifted, $9.50); Mackage jacket (thrifted, $50); Rafael necklace (secondhand, $126); Geox booties (thrifted, $15).

Black & White

After my first few years in the work force, I stopped wearing the white-top-black-bottom combination. It felt very “stock photo business person”, and that hasn’t been my jam for a long time. But you know what? With the right pieces, it can still be interesting. Here, those pieces are the skirt and the statement necklace, neither of which reads as “business casual catalogue”. The pop of green, in particular, was important. Black and green together can be tricky, but when white is in the mix, it works so so well.

Notes: No name top (thrifted, $7); Antipast skirt (thrifted, $6.50); Smythe blazer (thrifted, $8); necklace (thrifted, $5); Cole Haan shoes (thrifted, $10).

My earlier post on my discovery of Rafael Canada jewelry was a bit of a preview of my current state of mind. Long-time readers know that I am woman of sudden and deep obsessions, and that is precisely what brutalist jewelry has become for me. In some ways, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. I haven’t been particularly interested in bags (or shoes) for a few years, and nature abhors a vacuum, as they say; it was time for jewelry to become the focus of my attention to sartorial details. Jewelry is also a more natural channel of expression for my current aesthetic, which is all about flirting with edge. (I say “flirting” because I am keenly aware of the fact that I am a middle-aged suburban mom, which is not the first thing that comes to mind when most people hear “edgy”.)

Whenever I get into a new obsession, I like to read up as much as I can on the topic. Brutalist jewelry has stumped me. While there is a lot of content on the internet about brutalism as a whole, much of it is not directly applicable to my interests. There are bits and pieces here and there, mostly from various vintage jewelry dealer/auction sites, but nothing that can sustain the sort of deep dive exercise I like to pursue. Books on the history of jewelry are hard to come by, and/or very expensive. Surprisingly, I haven’t (yet) found any online forums for collectors – that’s usually a great resource for information.

But all my largely fruitless searching has given me some food for thought. Could my personal style be described as brutalist?

As far as architecture goes, brutalism is highly divisive. I grew up in the 80s in the Eastern Bloc, where brutalism was the default aesthetic (buildings-wise), so I can’t say that I have fond feelings about it … but I also don’t hate it as viscerally as some people. People who hate it, really really hate it. But it’s having something of a renaissance, apparently – or, at least, a reevaluation. According to Brad Dunning of GQ:

“Brutalism is the techno music of architecture, stark and menacing. Brutalist buildings are expensive to maintain and difficult to destroy. They can’t be easily remodeled or changed, so they tend to stay the way the architect intended. Maybe the movement has come roaring back into style because permanence is particularly attractive in our chaotic and crumbling world.”

That’s kind of lovely (in a world-is-burning way), isn’t it? I’m not sure my style is stark and menacing, though, by dog, I kinda wish it was. I do think the simplicity and starkness of the lines is something that I strive to echo in my outfits.

But brutalism in jewelry is something different. The focus is on “abstraction and asymmetry … with interest flowing from the juxtaposition of disparate forms, colors and finishes.” (Antique Sage.com) Brutalist jewelry uses massive, jagged, highly abstract designs; mixed metals; avant-garde colour combinations; unconventionally shaped stones – “at once intriguing and perhaps slightly disquieting”. This is definitely my aesthetic aspiration, particularly as reflected in my Prince, Artist and Bohemian avatars. It’s why, at a certain level, mixing my 70s Rafael Canada pieces with my favourite contemporary clothes works so well; they “speak” the same language. And my new (asymmetrical) long pixie haircut is on the same wavelength as well.

You might be thinking, “well, fine and good, but so what?” For me, it’s always exciting to find a new way to look at fashion (one of my creative outlets) and new sources of inspiration. Non-literal inspiration, in particular, is fun because it blows the door wide open on experimentation. I’m starting to feel like I’m getting my mojo back, after a bit of slump. It remains to be seen exactly how this will all translate when it comes to my monthly recaps, but I expect there will be some interesting things in the mix coming up.

Have you looked for or found sartorial inspiration in art? Do you have a process for translating it to real life? As always, would love to hear your thoughts.