Painted Tortoise

Hurricanes, am I right?

What a snarling, stinking, sloppy mess Sandy was. We were hardly even affected—the power was out for two and a half days, and once my office reopened, getting into work was an expensive challenge—but count me as officially over it.

Mirror Ball

Dressopotamia is a bit like Zeno's Paradox for me, in that the closer I get to the end, the harder it is for me to finish.

But finish I will, as my closet is finite. (I once read an article comparing Sex & the City to a superhero franchise: instead of a cyborg whose punches have the power of kicks—

Blue Pill

One thing that I love about Seventies fashion in particular is the affection for... let's call it maximalism.

In general, I think Americans take a maximalist view of life: if a little is good, a lot must be better.

Chinoiserie

The very thing that first appealed to me about Chinoiserie is what now gives me pause.

Namely, the chinoiserie aspect.

Puccini

My dream is to one day own a Pucci dress, and if I do get one, I will of course let you guys know all about it. In the meantime, I have Puccini.

Shell Game

I just read an article in The New Yorker about a fancy restaurant where dessert is somehow intertwined with a three-card monte. I'm still not sure exactly how it works — the server flips over a card that has your dessert ingredient of choice? — and I am in no danger of ever finding out, given the frequency (hint: not high) with which I take advantage of New York's fine restaurants.

Beehive in Your Soul

English is a wonderful language because it's so easygoing about taking in new words. Like "skosh," for instance — I just learned that it's on loan from Japanese, sukoshi meaning "a little bit." We also make up new words constantly (though I am definitely not a fan of either "awesomesauce" nor "amazeballs," I recognize the function they serve for those who want to express extreme enthusiasm while sounding like idiots). The shuffling and re-shuffling of various prefixes and suffixes can lead to words that don't really make much linguistic sense — if you picked apart "homophobia," you would think it meant "fear of people who are the same as you," which... is pretty accurate really.

When I make up words, I want them to make sense when you first hear them, and then more sense the more you think about them.

The Birds

Another day, another inspiring/cautionary tale.

I found The Birds in the summer of 2001, looking at its vast expanse of polyester (it was at least three sizes too big) and seeing only the perfect color combo of its print.

Swamplandia!

I recently read Swamplandia!, by Karen Russell—have you read it?

Pandora

My most memorable night in Pandora started with Champagne at a secret party at the ugly Grande Arche de la Défense, and ended with a friend's broken collarbone... actually the night didn't end there, or with a trip to the hospital, though it probably should have.

Since then, I've always associated Pandora with bad behavior.

Dagenham

Dagenham is a fairly recent addition to the collection; I got it during a recent trip to London, at a shop in the East End called Paper Dress Vintage. 

Peony Cache-Cache

My memory of this one isn't super-precise, either... I think I bought it in Buenos Aires?

My grandmother, who has been immortalized in these pages before, never talked about her clothes. I find this rule impossible to follow in my own life — obviously — but I do enjoy the aura of mystery in conveys, or rather would convey if I didn't treat every dress like an encapsulation of my own life story, complete with insecurities and indiscretions.

Fractal Candy

The simplest shift dress can go from ordinaire to extraordinaire with a judicious use of pattern. And by "judicious" I mean "as much as humanly possible."

So much pattern!

Wanderful

First, I want to announce the results of the second Dressopotamia Giveaway! The randomly selected new proud owner of Disco Mondrian is... Ellen! Ellen, I believe I have your email address from the Dressopotamia subscription list, but if that is a different Ellen, let me know and we will work it out. Wear it in good health!

In contrast to Disco Mondrian, Wanderful will never, ever leave my closet. I don't remember where I bought it, but I was in college, so I know it was many, many years ago. And it's still going strong!

Flimsy Whimsy

Aren't collars just so dramatic?

I am stalking a collared dress in the vintage shop across from my office. Unfortunately it costs $300, so my creepy love will have to remain unrequited.

Green Champagne

Does your wardrobe ever make you contemplate your own mortality?

Green Champagne offers me a peek into the abyss, and I’m not just saying that because it reminds me of a huge wall covered with the script for Waiting for Godot.

Lilac Baby

I can't remember exactly when and how Lilac Baby came into my life.

It was probably in Argentina? (In case you haven't picked up on this yet, my time in Buenos Aires included a lot of vintage buying sprees.) There's a lot to like about it, and a lot that is frankly a little meh.

Red, Beige and Blue

Happy Independence Day!

Notice the themed outfit.

Sacapuntas

My mother's mother was the quintessential grandmother. She was a sweet woman who never swore, doted on all her grandchildren, took letter-writing very seriously and hostessing even more seriously. (She wasn't the sort to follow you around with an ashtray — that would be intrusive. But when we had grapefruit at the breakfast table, she would get up early to loosen all the segments in her guests' fruit.) She was born in Iowa in 1909. She was religious, but never ostentatious about it. She was what you picture when you picture a grandmother, and I don't think I'm biased here.

So I was really surprised to find this kicky little number among her things.

Excuse me for a second; this wig is all wrong. Yes, the spiraling black curls echo the pencil-sharpening-curlicues of the print...

Shady Lane

Shady Lane evokes a vague sense memory for me. Every time I wear it, I flash back to a mystery time when I was riding in the back of a pickup truck, feeling the sun on my face and arms.