sartorial
I went to Catholic school, which has rigorously informed my sense of clothing and comfort. My uniform was really comfortable. I'd still wear it if that wouldn't be creepy. I'd come home from wearing the comfortable uniform and either keep it on, in some configuration (lose the sweater and the kilt, keep the turtleneck, boxers, and tights), or change into something even more comfortable. My mother cringed a lot in those years, and probably suppressed even more cringes.
I have so many jeans. The oldest jeans I have are from 1999. A couple years ago I finally threw out jeans from high school. I have tiny, skinny jeans, and I have baggy jeans; I have jeans that button at the waist and jeans that sit low. I have jeans that I roll at the bottom and jeans that tuck into boots and jeans that I wear with flat shoes.
I have three robes, four if you count the one I leave at my parents' house, which was my mother's robe before I claimed it, which she got in London at Harrod's back in the 70s. That robe is burgundy and a very soft, fine-knit velour, and it has a plunging, ruffled V-neck. It wraps and ties in a way that never comes untied, and it fits like a Halston evening gown so you can't really wear anything bunchy underneath. Putting it on makes me want to write letters and smoke cigarettes and drink Bellinis, all from a fainting couch near a window that looks out onto a rose garden.
I have a robe that is a light, short, cotton thing, for spring and summer in Georgia. I have a reversible robe that's pink on one side and white on the other and very basic. Ever since the reversible raincoat I wore around age 7, I've really admired reversibility in a garment. I have a robe that I wore when I was pregnant, and I wear it still when I'm feeling a certain way about life. It's light blue, something between flannel and fleece, very thick and generously cut, and it has snap buttons. It might sound like it's a robe you quit the world in, but it actually makes me feel very powerful, like, fuck you, I'm wearing this motherfucker, and I might go eat some leftovers while standing in front of the fridge.
Sometimes when I'm out for the day I like to wear all of my best stuff--lots of jewelry, some lipstick, the pretty clothes. Sometimes I wear sneakers and beat-up jeans and a hoodie and feel fifteen. If we go places at night I generally "dress up." Sometimes I like dressing up for things that I know people won't dress up for. Sometimes I hide behind my hair and will it to be over.
When I come home from a thing to which I've worn many specific things--jewelry and heels and makeup, etc.--I derive an exquisite satisfaction from removing those things and putting on soft pajamas and a robe, or a big t-shirt and thick socks. I like to scrub my face and pull my hair back and sit on the couch under a blanket and discuss what we've seen.
I have so many jeans. The oldest jeans I have are from 1999. A couple years ago I finally threw out jeans from high school. I have tiny, skinny jeans, and I have baggy jeans; I have jeans that button at the waist and jeans that sit low. I have jeans that I roll at the bottom and jeans that tuck into boots and jeans that I wear with flat shoes.
I have three robes, four if you count the one I leave at my parents' house, which was my mother's robe before I claimed it, which she got in London at Harrod's back in the 70s. That robe is burgundy and a very soft, fine-knit velour, and it has a plunging, ruffled V-neck. It wraps and ties in a way that never comes untied, and it fits like a Halston evening gown so you can't really wear anything bunchy underneath. Putting it on makes me want to write letters and smoke cigarettes and drink Bellinis, all from a fainting couch near a window that looks out onto a rose garden.
I have a robe that is a light, short, cotton thing, for spring and summer in Georgia. I have a reversible robe that's pink on one side and white on the other and very basic. Ever since the reversible raincoat I wore around age 7, I've really admired reversibility in a garment. I have a robe that I wore when I was pregnant, and I wear it still when I'm feeling a certain way about life. It's light blue, something between flannel and fleece, very thick and generously cut, and it has snap buttons. It might sound like it's a robe you quit the world in, but it actually makes me feel very powerful, like, fuck you, I'm wearing this motherfucker, and I might go eat some leftovers while standing in front of the fridge.
Sometimes when I'm out for the day I like to wear all of my best stuff--lots of jewelry, some lipstick, the pretty clothes. Sometimes I wear sneakers and beat-up jeans and a hoodie and feel fifteen. If we go places at night I generally "dress up." Sometimes I like dressing up for things that I know people won't dress up for. Sometimes I hide behind my hair and will it to be over.
When I come home from a thing to which I've worn many specific things--jewelry and heels and makeup, etc.--I derive an exquisite satisfaction from removing those things and putting on soft pajamas and a robe, or a big t-shirt and thick socks. I like to scrub my face and pull my hair back and sit on the couch under a blanket and discuss what we've seen.
2 Comments:
I feel this one.
I have only one pair of pants that really fits me, and I have three long sleeved t-shirts that I wear in rotation, and I have two cardigans, but I just made myself two snood-jersey-scarfs, which are almost like jewelry (as close as I get).
Sometimes I feel very cool about having almost no stuff, and sometimes I yearn to be as lovely and glamorous as you, my dear, when I grow up.
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