I am not on TikTok, which ought to tell you a few things about me, some more obvious than others. Or, perhaps, all of them obvious. I am not Gen-Z, for example. Duh. I am not au courant with the latest trends in makeup (something called “crying makeup”??). I do not worship at the altar of Hailey Bieber (who seems like a generally inoffensive person). And I am usually pretty oblivious to whatever aesthetic is currently blowing up on social media.

This is probably a good thing, on the whole, as I find that social media aesthetics have a tendency to trigger my old-man-yelling-at-the-clouds reflex. Case in point: the “vanilla girl”.

I only heard about “vanilla girl” at a relatively early stage — i.e. while it is currently trending — due to commentary from some social media peeps I follow on IG and articles from the likes of Refinery29 pointing out the lack of inclusivity inherent in this trend. It’s an important discussion and you should definitely engage with it if you haven’t already. As a white woman, I don’t know that I have anything relevant to add to it. My rant today is about a far less significant issue, but one which simply won’t stop worming its way into my thoughts far more often than it should.

Why do people love beige clothing so much????

When I say that I think about this way more than I should, it’s because my general philosophy in life is to not think about other people’s aesthetic choices or their discretionary spending. Not my monkeys, not my budget. I totally understand that different people like different things. I get that. I do.

But why beige?

Why so much beige, everywhere?

It’s not just clothes, it’s houses too. Then there is the whole “sad beige parenting” thing. Beige is all over everything that’s an object of curation on social media. Do you know how hard I have to work to keep my Instagram feed from looking like a bowl of oatmeal?

Here’s why I don’t understand the seemingly unassailable dominance of beige.

One, beige clothing has a tendency to look dingy unless the materials are better than average and maintained carefully. Visually, it needs texture to make it look interesting, and texture mixing is not unlike pattern mixing: not everyone knows how to do it well.

Two, beige is not an shortcut to chic-ness. Sure, we have all seen amazingly sharp beige outfits on Insta or magazines, but those reflect only the most successful efforts of stylists and fashionistas. Throwing on a bunch of beige clothing without paying attention to shades, proportions, textures, volume, silhouette, etc. etc. doesn’t guarantee a good outfit. It guarantees beigeness. I get that some people don’t feel comfortable with colour, or don’t like colour, or don’t know how to wear colour but, like … black exists, yeah? Mediocre black clothing will always look 110% sharper than mediocre beige clothing — and I am not throwing shade here, most of us can’t afford significantly better than mediocre clothing, and that’s ok — and black requires a lot less consideration to pull together as an outfit. Black is less work and more error-proof.

Three, beige is not a universally flattering colour. Neither is black, but if I am going to look like a consumptive Victorian ghost, I think I am better off in black; it looks intentional that way.

Four, we haven’t even talked about laundry care, but see point one above. And don’t get me started on the upkeep of beige houses.

I’ve fallen into the rabbit hole of asking the internet why people like to wear beige, and have found many answers. The symbolism of beige features prominently in most of these, and once you scratch the surface of that, undertones of classism and racism (colour being strongly associated with non-white cultures) are unmistakable, bringing us back full circle to the discussion of inclusivity. What I haven’t really found are full-chested praises of beige at the purely aesthetic level. I understand that individual people might have beige as their favourite colour — people are infinitely weird in all sorts of wonderful and wacky ways — but on a mass population scale? No. Beige — the very definition of a nothingburger colour — does not have the necessary inherent qualities to visually seduce an entire generation. So I am left with the conclusion that nobody* actually likes beige as a colour, as opposed to liking beige as an idea. Change my mind!** And if flexing your bougieness is that idea, there are a multitude other means so I beg you: no more beige clothes.

(*at a statistically significant level)

(** actually, don’t. I will not be moved on this point. sorry!)

Details: Ines de la Fressance x Uniqlo shirt, Jones NY blazer, BR belt, Issey Miyake skirt (all thrifted), Zara shoes (retail)

Thoughts: One of my absolute favourite outfits all winter. I went back to the RL inspo well for this, of course. I especially love that it’s a monochromatic, fairly classic outfit only with a southwestern twist. I tried a similar formula this summer, once, and loved it then too. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to do it again. It’s the perfect for days when I want to go with a southwestern/prairie vibe but not in a very boho or colourful way. This feels a bit more restrained but still quite romantic. Having the chance to wear my treasured turquoise jewelry makes this extra special.

Details: Toni T dickie, Everlane sweater, Judith & Charles jacket, Gap skirt (all thrifted), Zara shoes (retail)

Thoughts: Went back to a short skirt for a hot minute. This jacket has been a dark horse of versatility. I have a weird relationship with bright red, as it’s not a colour that I normally gravitate to, but as an accent in the right outfit, it’s fabulous. This is one of those outfits. I think the restrained colour palette creates a good background for the red to really pop.

Details: Tabi sweater, Gap pants (both thrifted), Zara shoes (retail)

Thoughts: Don’t mind me, just doing some more b&w pattern mixing. I had been looking for a pair of graphic pattern pants for a while, and this one showed the most promise. Although they’re not wide leg, which is my preference these days, they do have that kick flare silhouette that I quite like in my Tommy Hilfiger jeans, so I thought it was worth trying. I do like how they fit, and I think the checkerboard pattern (I was really hoping for an oversized houndstooth but I’ll take this) will be an interesting one to mix and match.

Details: Vince dress, Holding Horses tunic, Fluevog shoes (all thrifted), BCBG harness belt (Poshmark)

Thoughts: I loved the proportions created by this layering combo. There is nice volume and movement, and the harness belt brings structure so there’s a juxtaposition of fluidity and rigidity. Brown and blue (and black) is a combination that I’ve always loved.

Details: Massimo Dutti sweater, Gap jeans, Josef belt (all thrifted), Prairie Trail Goods tote

Thoughts: I finally found a pair of denim that’s a contender for the palazzo jean hole in my closet. I’m not sure if these Gap jeans are “it” but I am giving them a try. They do have a lot of the elements I am looking for, though I wish the pant leg was slightly wider from the top down. On the downside, they are a bit long and I am concerned that by hemming them, I will lose both the shape of the leg and the drama of the silhouette as a whole. So I may just need to invest in a really tall pair of platforms for spring. Something walkable but with a few extra inches. We shall see. Meanwhile, please admire this gorgeous tote that my friend J made from a thrifted pillow sham, Levi’s belt, and waxed canvas. The inside lining is the classic Ralph Lauren teddy pattern (the RL teddy bear in various outfits against a striped background) — it’s part of a thrifted bedsheet. So ingenious!!

Last time we talked about arty things, I mentioned that I had finally picked up supplies to try needle punching. It’s something I have been wanting to explore for a while for mostly obvious reasons; it’s a form of fiber art closely related to embroidery and I am a big fan of texture – in the past, I’ve used different embroidery stitches to approximate the nubby texture of needle punching. I thought needle punching would allow me to extend my exploration of colour and form in a new medium with – and here I am going to reveal my hubris – minimal downtime. Because of the whole similarity thing? Yeah, I was wrong.

Although both involve needles, the techniques are very different. Different enough, I think, that my skill at embroidery is probably to the detriment of my ability to figure out needle punching. I gave it a good, honest try and it was hard. But more than that … I hated it.

Ok, hate might be a strong word. I just didn’t enjoy the experience. At all.

At first, I thought it was because it was a new skill that was proving more difficult to learn than I had expected. It’s been a while since I’ve tried a new craft and felt totally useless at something; nobody likes that feeling, right? I had no desire to keep going, and that made me mad at myself. I’m not a quitter! What does it say about me, especially at my age, that I am immediately ready to walk away from something just because it’s hard? After all, I have learned over the years that being really good at something – anything! – takes patience and practice.

I spent a few days really beating myself up over this. It might sound silly but it really bothered me that I couldn’t motivate myself enough to continue, to persevere, to get better. I felt bad … but not enough to actually want to do it. What a dilemma, huh? And then, coincidentally, I read something online that helped me shift my perspective. I am going to try to paraphrase it here, as I don’t remember it exactly, but it was something to the effect that while nobody is born a master of a craft – that still takes time and practice – people are inherently more inclined or suited to particular things. In my case, that would be embroidery and beading and painting, but not knitting or weaving or (evidently) needle punching.

It’s not so much that the former “came easy” to me; not in the sense people might think – I wasn’t immediately good at these things (certainly not any better than I was at needle punch right out of the gate). But I enjoyed the learning process. Instead of feeling frustrated about how my first efforts fell short of my goals, I felt energized to keep trying. I was excited to keep going, to experiment, to learn more. It didn’t feel like a chore. It felt fun.

This has been a total lightbulb moment for me. It allowed me to give myself permission to “give up” on needle punching. At least for now. I might try again at some point, but I won’t force myself to do it if it still feels like a joyless struggle. I would rather put time into my embroidery, and continue to improvise and improve my techniques, than into anything that feels like a chore. Art should never feel like that.

I will admit that this has been a challenging mental framework to shift – to stop equating putting something aside with quitting (and all its negative connotations) – but also a really healthy process. In a strange way, a growth-oriented process at that; although I have not grown my skill base, I have gained a new perspective which I believe will help me to grow in other ways over the years.

For fun, here is a look at the results of my needle punching attempts – front and back:

Not horrendous but these brought me no joy to make so it’s time focus on something that does!