Up

I so rarely get to use the word "antepenultimate"—usually by the time I remember that it exists, I am already on the penultimate thing I was going to describe as antepenultimate if I had thought of it sooner.

This is my antepenultimate post!

Autumn Tendrils

It is still technically autumn, right? Even though I am looking at a Christmas tree with a homemade Al Swearengen angel topper, and the colors in Autumn Tendrils are no longer found in nature?

Fire Sign

Oh, autumn.

I deny thee.

Pulitzer Prize

Dress two from my most recent best shopping day ever: Pulitzer Prize.

I mean, obviously it's a prize.

Sky Flower

Great shopping days don't just come out of nowhere.

A myriad of circumstances, both internal and external, have to fall into place for you to take home a really impressive haul.

Embarrassed Zebra

I posted earlier—much earlier—about the importance of finding the right shoes. Much as I hate to admit it (because my tootsies much prefer ratty sneakers), adorable, albeit uncomfortable, shoes can make all the difference to an ensemble. (In other words: if you are wearing the perfect outfit, you've got on the right shoes. I usually prove this logic in converse, and sometimes in Converses.)

But another item of clothing can also play a crucial role in the way an outfit comes—or doesn't come—together.

Tangerine Scream

Remember the time I was talking about my best shopping day ever? The time I went to Another Man's Treasure and came home with Raspberry Ripple, Trompe l'Oeil and Natural History?

And thus concludes the story of the best shopping day ever. Movie rights, anyone? (See below for casting ideas.)

Weakness

I was worried that working on Dressopotamia would encourage me in my most expensive vice (if you have to ask what that would be, may I gently but firmly direct you to the titre, the photographies and the raison d'être of the blog you are currently resting your eyeballs upon).

Trompe l'Oeil

Every once in a while, I venture from the relative comfort of my air-conditioned den to sample a tiny tiny bit of what New York City has to offer.

As long as it doesn't cost too much. (I'm looking at you, American Museum of Natural History, and your $40 bat walks in Central Park!)

Natural History

Versatility is important.

The last time I wore Natural History, to host book club, one of the attendees said, "You could wear that to a nightclub or an office meeting." Let's be clear: a sedate nightclub, a rowdy office meeting. But still.

Swimming Pool

Another day, another experience in sartorial psychedelia...

Raspberry Ripple

Sometimes a dress is really just a dress.

Enter the Dragon

It is a sad paradox, if not the sad paradox, of shopping, that the more money you spend on an article of clothing, the less likely you are to get a lot of wear out of it. The fragile embroidery, the delicate fabric, the intricate stitching: all the elements that justify a higher price turn into reasons to not wear your new lovely garment.


Además, in the age of Facebook, we're all mini-celebs being hounded by paparazzi, except the paparazzi are our nearest and dearest. It's hard to wear the same fancy dress to multiple parties, knowing that everyone you've ever met will see pictures from all of them. Counterpoint: I am reminded of the fashion icon (name escaping me) who claimed she made sure to be photographed in her dresses at least twice, to prove she owned them. I don't worry about this too much.

I own this dress. Take my word for it.

Anyway, in case you're interested, I have hacked through this particular Gordian knot. The solution: embrace formality. If you like to dress up, 'fess up! There is absolutely nothing wrong with being the dressiest person in the room; in fact, if I could express the wrongness in negative numbers, I would.

Case in point: my aunt received a literary prize the other day. Forgive my bragging, but I can't stop kvelling! Not a suuuuper fancy occasion (daytime ceremony), but I had a new dress that I was already worrying wouldn't amortize well.

In a bizarre oversight, I have no photos of me at the ceremony, but it made me feel great to be wearing my newest, nicest duds; it was my way (which is certainly not the only way) of marking the momentousness of the occasion.