Thursday, August 2, 2012

Black and White, Artist Style

This is my homage to Picasso, or perhaps Van Gogh, out in the hot Tuscan fields in loose, cool linen. I need a straw hat and some paints. 

Jones New York trousers, Loft scarf, Talbot's peasant top. I liked this top so much that I also bought it in black crossdyed linen, so I can reverse this outfit with white jeans. I have on red earrings, a red shell ring and red Born flats to keep from being monochromatic. The scarf is perfect in my air-conditioned office.

I don't normally wear all-over-loose-and-flowy. I tend to be fitted in at least one third of my look, whether it is skirt, pants, top. Even fitted boots qualify. On a hot, sticky day, however, you just want as little material as possible touching you.

Which leads me to another thought and a link to a great post. Chicago Tribune writer Amy Guth contributed a post on Dressing Room Choices at Already Pretty, a blog (and lovely human) whom you know I revere in every way. I'll summarize, but I hope you'll also read her full post.

When you try on clothes at the store, turn your back to the mirror. 

Think about how you feel, how the fabric moves, how the color and details appear from your perspective. THEN turn around and catch a glimpse of your reflection. NEVER watch yourself getting dressed. This is my own caveat because it is one long opportunity to flinch and criticize. 

In my Skokie house, I could circle around through the kitchen, dining room and living room (not as far as it sounds - it was a little house) and "surprise" my reflection in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. In this way I saw myself moving, not static, and all at once.  In the condo I don't have the same runway approach, but I still try to get the outfit on the move, then compare my view to what the camera sees. Huh. I kind of miss that tour of the house on my way to the mirror. 


1 comment:

  1. Bonjour!

    It's been five years and I still haven't mounted the full-length mirror to the wall (it's balanced on shoe boxes) and I can not see both my head and feet at the same time in it. I'm not sure what that says about me. Hmmm.