Is this too much pink for a 30-something professional? I hope the answer is “no”, because … well, the deed is done. I wore this outfit to work, and I only felt a smidge self-conscious in it. We’ll come back to that in a minute. First, let me say that I am warming up to this blazer; it always helps when a blazer is soft and comfortable, because that is a fairly rare thing. I am still unsure about it from a colour palette/style perspective, but I am experiencing the familiar feeling of “there’s nothing wrong with it, gotta make it work”. Know what I mean? I know I shouldn’t let my sartorial decisions be ruled by that kind of thinking, but old habits are hard to break.
all the pinksdress sans blazer
I had an epiphany recently. You will recall that I’ve mentioned being drawn more towards more muted colours and neutrals lately; and I should clarify that it’s a question of feeling more comfortable when I wear those types of colours. My eye will never not love to look at bright colours — all the colours, all at once. I recently realized that the place where I feel most UNcomfortable wearing bright colours (or statement accessories for that matter) is the train, on my commute to work. I think it’s because the majority of people on the train are dressed very casually, and I hate the feeling of standing out by being “overdressed”. Is “inconspicuous” a style persona? Because that’s who I want to be on the train.
Origin story? How did you get interested in fashion?
I loved dressing up as a kid, but the concept of fashion was a foreign one – literally – when I was growing up in a Communist Eastern Bloc country. I remember watching Dallas in the early 90s, before my family emigrated to the West, and thinking about how glamorous the women on the show looked. I had no concept of fashion trends as such. Once we arrived in Canada, it took a few years for my parents to re-establish their careers (from zero, I cannot even imagine), and I spent my teens shopping at thrift stores and places like Walmart so I had no incentive to care about fashion – it was out of my league.
I remember when the first Forever21 store opened in Edmonton. I was in university at the time, and had disposable income from a part time job (I still lived at home), so I started to pay more attention to what I was wearing. Most stores were still too expensive for my budget. I vividly remember lusting after an aqua blue fleece hoodie from the Gap; it was one of my Christmas gifts from my parents that year. I also remember a silk, floral H&M halter dress I bought in Paris in the early 2000s, before H&M opened here. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen, and I pushed myself to “splurge” on it because I was on vacation. A decade later, I had it altered into a skirt; I never wear it, but I can’t bear to part with it.
However, I don’t really remember much of what I wore during most of my university years, and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have been considered a “style” of any sort. I was in my mid-to-late 20s when I started to become interested in what you might call “fashion”. A combination of things is probably responsible for my “awakening”, including a newfound interest in fashion magazines and access to my first “grown-up” paycheck. Speaking of powerful influences, though …
Were there any role models in your life?
One of the most stylish people I personally know is a former co-worker. She is not only beautiful (inside and out) but is one of those people who knows exactly what to wear on every occasion, and has a knack for putting together outfits that look effortlessly elegant. She is also a very savvy shopper. She introduced me to consignment stores, Winners (TJ Maxx), and eBay. Those things, in turn, opened up a whole world of sartorial possibilities.
I’d also be curious to hear about your thoughts on the impact of your wardrobe at work. Has your interest been received positively or negatively?
I blog semi-anonymously, but my blog is an “open secret” at work. Edmonton is also relatively small city, so I do run into people within my professional network who read my blog or are at least aware of it. I have never received direct negative feedback; in fact, most people have been generally very complimentary about it. With that said, I have no idea if it’s something that has been or will be held against me. I’ve always been very careful about what I post, so I can’t imagine that it would be, but you never know.
My evident interest in clothes is, well, very evident, so people have certainly noticed it. Again, I have not received direct negative comments about it. It *is* something I do, at times, worry about for various reasons.
When I was more junior/younger, I used to worry that people would judge me for spending what might appear to be a lot of money on clothes. For example, I was embarrassed when a partner once complimented me on my shoes, and asked me what brand they were; I found myself blurting out the answer (Manolo Blahnik, I probably should have just fibbed), and rushing to tell her that they were thrifted. I’m sure she probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it either way, but I was concerned about the optics of an “intern with a Birkin” situation. Now that I am both older and more senior, I kinda … DGAF what people think about my spending habits, you know? Again, I’m not even sure anybody is judging me on that score, but it wouldn’t bother me (too much) even if they did.
I do occasionally think about how my personal style and interest in clothing is perceived at work and, in particular, whether they make me appear less competent and/or professional. Fortunately, my practice area offers quite a bit of flexibility when it comes to style; I only have to conform to formal business attire on very, very rare occasions. My office is also relatively casual for my professional field, and other (female) co-workers are quite stylish so I don’t think I stand out drastically.
Are there certain types of things you shy away from wearing at work?
Mainly, I stay away from the usual “suspects”: nothing too low cut, too short or too tight. No leggings, unless worn with a tunic-style dress, and then only on casual Fridays. (This is not currently one of my go-to looks, but I think it’s acceptable for my office dress code.) I also tend to avoid platform pumps, which I find to be too “clubby”. I usually stick with knee-length skirts (or midis), but if I am wearing something a little bit shorter (typically not more than 2-3 inches above the knee), I make sure that everything else is covered (high neckline, long sleeves). I will take off my blazer and rock a sleeveless top from time to time, but mostly in my own office; however, if someone else sees me, it’s not the end of the world. No spaghetti straps, though.
Lately, I have also been avoiding fit-and-flare/skater-style dresses at work because I think they have a more “gamine” vibe. Ditto with other details with a similar vibe (frills, ruffles, full skirts, etc.). It’s not a rule that’s written in stone, though. My love of twee has not been completely eradicated. I have also switched from wearing cardigans to wearing blazers. Structured toppers look more polished to my eyes now, though I am always on the hunt for ones that don’t feel constrictive.
Got a question? Shoot me an email or leave a comment, and I’ll be happy to answer it.
I have to thank again the readers who reminded me of Barbara Vine recently. One of the best thrillers I read decades ago was actually Vine’s A Dark Adapted Eye, and I’m not sure how the name fell off my radar in the meantime. I ordered ADAE from Amazon (it’s definitely due for a re-read), but it hasn’t arrived yet, so I have been making do with another Vine novel I found at the thrift store, The Minotaur. This is my thriller catnip: large mansion full of secrets, weird family full of secrets, innocent outsider trying to figure out all of the secrets, and, finally, murder. I loved The Minotaur up until the last 10% or so, when it became apparent that the payoff — answers to all of those tantalizing secrets — wasn’t going to be there. I was actually quite cross because, as much as I enjoyed the reading up to that point (Rendell/Vine is a master of atmosphere), I felt robbed.
In a similar vein to The Minotaur, I read The Lake House by Kate Morton. This was another thrift store purchase; I’ve been “burned” by Kate Morton in the past, so I wouldn’t have bought this otherwise. [I read The Secret Hours when it first came out to great fanfare, and I didn’t think it lived up to what the hype had promised me.] It was fine. Not amazing, but ok for a summer/beach read. There were strong shades of Atonement in this book, but I wasn’t nearly invested enough in the characters to be devastated by their personal tragedies. The book as a whole had the opposite issues as The Minotaur; the sense of atmosphere was weaker (also, Morton occasionally makes weird word choices that threw me off) and the plot was too neatly wrapped up. As pleasing as that kind of ending can be, it’s also, well, too pat. It’s like dim sum; great to eat, but you feel hungry again after a couple of hours.
Last but definitely not least, I devoured Unmentionable: The Victorian Lady’s Guide to Sex, Marriage and Manners by Therese O’Neill. I loved it, and would highly recommend it. The “narration” takes a bit of getting used to, but I ended up liking it for the most part; it’s like getting a history lesson from a sassy girlfriend. The tone was consistent throughout, and didn’t verge into “annoying schtick” territory for the most part. There was one weird phrase, which made me laugh; O’Neill writes: “… people tended to die more often, and younger…” I’m sure it wasn’t the intent, but I read that as people dying more than once, and I can’t un-read it now.
Otherwise, O’Neill does a solid job in going over all aspects of a (middle to upper class) woman’s personal life in the 19th century in England/America, with lots of fascinating tidbits thrown in. The main takeaway: life was, literally, stinky and far, far less romantic than BBC period dramas would have you believe. This is not news to anyone who has even a passing interest in (real, not fictional) history, but it doesn’t detract from the book, which is all about the nitty gritty, frequently too-weird-to-be-believed details. One thing to note: O’Neill quotes from a lot of advice books and articles from the time period (almost all written by men), and the suggestion seems to be that these sources reflect the Victorian Zeitgeist. I found myself questioning this as I went along. Can we really judge how regular people of a particular era lived based, not on their own recollections, but on, say, the Dear Abby columns of the day? I mean, certainly, there are lots of insights to be gleaned from that (and from things like advertisements) but how clear a picture are we getting? Victorians are fascinating because we know so much and so little about them at the same time. I think more reading on the topic is in order for me.
On to articles … here is another take on where J. Crew went wrong. I used to buy a lot of Factory stuff when the store first opened in Edmonton, but I’ve been buying less and less now that I shop primarily at thrift stores. I still spot J. Crew whenever I check out consignment stores, but rarely in thrift stores. I wonder why that is. But I digress. In my opinion, the issue comes down to price. A lot of stores are offering similar things for similar quality at much lower prices. I don’t know how J. Crew can “unwind” the clock at this point, or if it’s even possible. As the author of the article points out, there are some industry-wide seismic shifts happening, and J. Crew will probably not be the only victim.
This Racked article about the current plague of Ugly Shirts is quite funny. I love the idea of a well-executed “architectural” shirt, but this trend has been taken to grotesque extremes, as this article illustrates. And the prices — OMG! I did try on a more sedate version of Peak Shirt last weekend at Zara, and though I ultimately passed on it, I have to admit it was cute (if terribly impractical):
Zara Peak Shirt
This oral history of “My Heart Will Go On” is amazing. Celine Dion is a national treasure.
