This week's wardrobe inspired by rage

I am enraged about most things most of the time these days. Enraged. I am not at all comfortable with rage. Sure, I am happy to rage against the hegemonic machine on a daily basis and to recruit others to do the same. But rage against circumstances in my life that I cannot control--illness, loss, separation, watching people I love suffer and others disappear entirely--this rage is unbearable and I do not know what to do with it.

So what do I do? Mostly I withdraw.  Also, though, I comfort those I can when I can. I teach. I do my work. I listen to a lot of music.  I think about falling in love, being in love. I think about being in Paris.  I look at pretty pictures and I play dress-up.

For you, a song I listen to every day these days and some lovely pictures of people I am trying to look like these days.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

I am happy to be back in the season of layers. Each day is basically a question of whether to go with the Swedish street urchin, citified woodland creature, or Parisian fashionaut look, each of which is represented below.



How much do I want the above vest and boots?? Muchly.



I am pretty sure I wore this exact outfit, complete with white sunglasses, in 1992. Still like it.



The silhouette. The touch of dark purple. The shoes.



Every time I wear an outfit like the above I feel like Puck or Robin Hood. That doesn't stop me.

Not represented here (surprisingly) is my current hair inspiration/obsession. My ambition to be as blond as is Medusaly possible remains strong. In fact, given that I spend so much time a) reading Scandinavian fashion blogs, and b) staring at photographs of Kate Lamphear, it's a small miracle that my hair is not completely devoid of color by this point. I consider this platinum drive to be a reverse manifestation of the same psychological phenomenon that led me to dye my hair darker and darker and darker until I achieved the blackest of black just after I defended my dissertation and graduated. In other words, it has something to do with That Which Will Not Be Discussed.

A long overdue this week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

I feel like my wardrobe choices during the summer are less than inspired. There are a few reasons for this: a) If I am not teaching or showing up to a place every day, I tend not to make as much of an effort; b) It's hot, dudes; and c) My money is being spent on travel and dinners out and summery cocktails and not on clothes that I can only wear a maximum of three months out of the year.

As I result, I tend to wear little dresses and flip-flops every day. A variation on this theme is a little dress and slouchy suede boots. Another variation is jeans and a top at night, sometimes with heels, though I am still looking for the perfect high-heeled sandal.

Because I am the superficial gorgon that I am, I start to feel out of sorts when I fall into this summer style rut, so I shall try to spice it up a bit with more varied and interesting silhouettes and a no flip-flop rule, in the evenings at the very least. This will of course require that I find the perfect beautiful yet walkable sandal, but I think not much more of an investment than that. Oh. And fabulous hair, which is ever in the works.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

It's hard not to want to live in flip flops and little dresses when summer rolls around, but I am thinking solid colors, clean lines, a girly ruffle here, some platinum and kohl rock-n-roll there, and for the foreseeable future--because I need my bad-ass imaginary haircut and my ubiquitous imaginary cigarette--Jean Seberg. And maybe some hats. I have been known to rock a summer hat and rock it well.






As always, click on the pics for original sources and more information

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

I have written about my Imaginary Perfect Haircut before. I want it desperately, but it would not work with my thick crazy Medusa locks. In times of stress when fortitude and cool are needed, I walk around with my imaginary haircut (imaginarily) and thereby become a total bad ass.

The ubiquitous Agyness Deyn is currently rocking my Imaginary Perfect Haircut in REAL LIFE. I want to find her irritating, but I can't because a) she really rocks the IPH; and b) I ultimately think that underlying the current widespread irritation at Agyness Deyn is the lame and elitist and even more irritating kneejerk reaction against ubiquity itself. Oh, and if you had no idea who Agyness Deyn was before you read this paragraph: This is Agyness Deyn. She is a British model. She is ubiquitous! How did her ubiquity escape you?! OMG! Be irritated!

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

The Calvin Klein ruby shoes continue to hold their sartorial sway over my imagination, and I am obsessed with touches of any and all shades of red . . .

How bad-ass is this hat?



I need a loose knit cap. It needs to be red. (I resist calling it a Rasta hat, because of this kerfuffle. I am not sure how I myself feel about the young traveling heiresses--though I do love the snarky term, "trustfundafarian"--but I think it's hilarious that New York Magazine responded by putting a "real" Rasta man in the Look Book this week.)

How fabulous is this conspiratorial pair?



This next outfit reminds me of something I might have worn when I was 7 or 8 years old, probably because of the white tight/black shoe combo. Still, she somehow pulls it off for a stunning ensemble. (I think I might be quoting Duckie from Pretty in Pink with the phrase, "stunning ensemble.") I do not tend to wear cardigans, but a scarlet cardigan . . .


It's about the time of year when my inner Tyler Durden wants to come out to play. No, I don't want to burn a kiss mark into my hand with lye or have sex with Helena Bonham Carter** or fistfight boys in bar basements or start armies or anything. I do, however, start to feel a bit of a fevah that puts a certain strut in my step and makes me want to wear the best evah item of fantasy clothing in red . . .



. . .the Durden jacket. (It doesn't look red in this photo, but trust me, it's Tyler Durden red.) I actually have a red jacket with sort of the same cut but it is made out of some cheap chemical leather-like substance. Someday I will find the Durden jacket, perfect in fabric, style, and girl-friendly cut. It really is the holy grail of clothing for me.


**Note: This is not entirely true. I think that everyone sort of wants to have sex with Helena Bonham Carter or be her for a day or be Marla Singer for a day or to be Tim Burton, who actually does have sex with Helena Bonham Carter.

Brautigan Saturday, "The Return of the Rivers" (+ some ruby shoes)

The Return of the Rivers

All the rivers run into the sea;
yet the sea is not full;
unto the place from whence the rivers come,
thither they return again.

It is raining today
in the mountains.

It is a warm green rain
with love
in its pockets
for spring is here,
and does not dream
of death.

Birds happen music
like clocks ticking heavens
in a land
where children love spiders,
and let them sleep
in their hair.

A slow rain sizzles
on the river
like a pan
full of frying flowers,
and with each drop
of rain
the ocean
begins again.

Happy Spring, everyone. This last stanza is one my favorites in all of Brautigan's poems. The beautifully quirky and rich image of a pan of frying flowers followed by this impossibly romantic thought. Quintessential Brautigan.

It has been a frantic week, back from break and trying to get ready for what is going to be an insanely busy April. With regular teaching, directing a student thesis project to its completion and presentation, hosting a major campus event I have spent hours and hours and will spend hours and hours more organizing, making sure my umpteen senior advisees will indeed graduate, grading the final work of umpteen students, and oh leaving for five days to attend a conference and chair a panel and give a paper there, April will indeed be the cruelest month. I am anticipating back-to-back 70-hour weeks if I am lucky. Oddly, I am feeling okay about it. Energetic, at least. Perhaps I am in complete denial. Of course, getting all of this done requires that I completely avoid Idiot Wind (formerly called TDC here) and ignore all of her last-minute, time-sucking requests--three alone in the last week.

What's just happened here?? Away with thee, bitchy franticness! It's Spring! Sorry I did not have time to post my wardrobe inspirations for the week. By way of apology, behold:



Ruby shoes. Calvin Klein ruby shoes. Want them. Cannot afford them right now. Thank the Zappos gods that my size is out of stock.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

. . . a writing marathon. How to describe the get-ups one tends to wear during these intensive periods of writing? The process of of putting one of these outfits together springs from equal parts raw necessity, strange whim, and a tunnel vision focused entirely on pursuits of the mind. The results are strange but somehow empowering, inspiring great scholarly energy.

Early morning is my best time for generating ideas and writing quickly. It's best for me to get right to it. This is why my writing uniform for the day often begins with perhaps just a sweater thrown over a nightgown,



or a sweatshirt and p.j. bottom combo,



or sometimes just the full-on pajama.



Before I write, I often feel the need to put something on my head. My friend, Dr. Crazy, wrote almost her entire dissertation while wearing a tiara. I prefer a thinking cap of some kind. My two current favorites are these:



You don't have to tell me they are hideous. Most of my thinking caps I get for free. The hideousness, the freebieness--these are important aspects of a good thinking cap.

At some point I will have to take the dog outside, so I will add some lovely footwear to the ensemble.



I have not worn Uggs in public except to take the Chalupa into the backyard or to take the trash to the curb since 2003. I believe they are aesthetically atrocious. But, dudes, they are comfortable and warm.

Speaking of which, at some point I will, even in the winter, get too warm. You would think that I would just take off the wooly sheepskin footwear, but I do not. Instead, I will change into a tank top and one of the following:

a) gym shorts



or, b) this nonsensical item of clothing, the sweatskirt.



From that point in the day onward, it's all about quick fixes to a cold chest or shoulders or hands or legs. This is also when the dancer in me



takes over as a major sartorial influence.

Cold chest or shoulders? What could be better than the ballet sweater, or as a friend calls each of the no less than five or six I have in my wardrobe, the "tit cozy"?



Cold legs? Pants? Why?? Leg warmers are much more specific to this need!



Cold hands? May I suggest your standard fingerless glove,



or, for wrist and forearm warming needs, the opera-length fingerless glove. These may look suspiciously like sleeves to you and you might wonder, "Hey, why not just put on a shirt?". Because! You might at any moment need to remove those sleeves! Voila, removable sleeves!



Things might go anywhere from here depending on 1) the season; 2) the theoretical difficulty of the paper; 3) the page number-to-deadline ratio; and 4) caffeine, sugar, carb, and alcohol intake. Layers are sure to be removed and added, until by the end of any given writing-marathon day, one might see me walking La Chalupa looking something like this:



Laugh if you will, but that woman? That woman, if not a scholar, is most certainly a genius, and I can guarantee you she is thinking great thoughts.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

It's really all about boots and skinny legs for miles this week.





I cannot obtain legs for miles but I can obtain boots. I am obsessed with booties this season. In addition to my favorite dark brown fake Chloe's, I somehow accidentally through absolutely no fault of my own came to buy two pairs of black ankle boots, one a little more casual and one more dressy, more slouchy, more fabulous pair, which I call my Apollonia boots. I do not know if Apollonia ever wore such a pair but let's just say if I were exiled to a place where people dressed exactly as if they were on the set of Purple Rain, I would pretty much be right at home with my Apollonia boots.

So the overall inspiration continues to be the '80s, but I think we can also see the influence of my pick for the way above and beyond winner of this season's Project Runway, . . .



. . Christian. Sure, the kid's a brat but he's also a genius.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

. . .my 19-year-old self. It's almost March, a month that almost always brings back the pretty powerful memories and energy of a certain time in my life. The Spring of the 19-year-old me (oh these many moons ago) blew my mind in many many ways, both good and bad. There were adolescent epiphanies, a newfound sense of autonomy, a crazy boyfriend, a legal separation (my parents), some illegal substances, much music, many friends, and the carving out of a little nouveau-bohemian existence of my own. All of this hinged on a totally rad, utterly overdetermined aesthetic.

During my 19th year and into my early 20s I dressed at various times and during various moods like three of these characters. Can you guess which?



1. Claire/Molly Ringwald, of course. Though I am still on the lookout for all of the pieces to reproduce that exact ensem. When I find it, I will dance like this.

2. The pre-makeover Allison/Ally Sheedy. Lots of black and gray. Lots of long scarves. Lots of eyeliner.

3. John Bender. Jean jacket? Check. Flannel with cut-off sleeves over long-underwear top? Check. Fingerless gloves? Most definitely, then and now. I also wanted (want) badly to make out with John Bender in a broom closet, which is why he has been my imaginary boyfriend for over 20 years now. Not Judd Nelson, mind you. John Bender.

I would have worn this next outfit when I was 19. I think I did wear this next outfit when I was 19. I am slightly concerned about how orange this person is. Is it the lighting in the photo? Orange tights? An ironic retro self-tanning job? I was not this orange when I was 19.



The boots. The socks. The skinny mini with the crisp buttoned-up white blouse. All of those bracelets! I will steal this look, though not with a mini that wee. Inspiration, yes. Adaptation, yes.

How perfect does this next woman (model Anja Rubik, I think) look? I love everything about this outfit.



This was my 19-year-old haircut. I loved that haircut. I still love that haircut. So New Wave. So Evangelista.



I think I have to go listen to some Thompson Twins now, then maybe go out and buy some potted daffodils, and then maybe try to get at least a conceptual grip on this much too early, must too strong Spring fevah of mine.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

I am tapped this week, but that in no way means I am too tired to think about clothes.

This week I have returned to the familiar shape of this winter's uniform, the Pippi/Swedish Street Urchin.



I adore the color of this scarf. Adore.



I adore it so much, I am putting touches of it all over my house. This weekend I reupholstered my vanity seat in this fabric, a purchase partly inspired by this dress. (Unfortunately you can't really see how beautiful the gold is in either the photo of the seat or the dress.)


Can you believe I did this myself? The mad nesting of possible alien impregnation continues. Upholstery? Since when do I do upholstery? Crazed Spring Cleaning '08 has officially begun.

This week's wardrobe inspired by . . .

I chose these a few days ago. All of that gray--I should have known I was headed for some grump and gloom. I am in a mood. I think it's mostly hormonal, but I am also so very drained (already!) from the semester. This job is not always hell but all of the things that make it hell when it is hell are in full force at the moment. (In other words, and to put it simply--because it ultimately is this simple--the Toxic One is in full force.) Must. ignore. this. whirlwind. of. idiocy. and. toxicity.

Maybe a little Dylan will help.