Saturday, December 20, 2008

Since Savers has come into my life and taken over my wardrobe, the flow of clothes is swift indeed. In and out again, sometimes within minutes, e.g. a pair of "darned" Ralph Lauren jeans that I got for the young one. Introduced from the plastic bag, they were rejected out of hand. Nanoseconds. They are now in limbo in the sell-back pile, awaiting spring. As am I (we are in the throes of the worst winter weather in years, the terrible trifecta of snow, wind and cold). There are, though, a few items that have withstood the cleansing current of wardrobe editing, usually because they are so so outrageous that I have never found anything to replace them or they are so truly classy even I, the queen of vulgar, cannot deny their uplifting quality. The stalwarts are:
--Ferragamo tall leather boots circa 70s, just perfect, always
--Nine West brown loafers with sort of lug soles, sound ugly, are actually outrageously flattering
-- cashmere/wool houndstooth suit with wrap jacket, french cuffs, high waist skirt with pleated hem, if i ever had an interview..., so french, so Carine Roitfeld
-- sheer voile navy fragile frock, maybe from the 30s, all hankie hemmed, wispy, Olive Oyl
-- Old Navy low waist boot cut jeans with no butt pockets, despite the no butt pockets which make your ass look bald
-- a vintage raspberry pink cashmere cardigan, in case I ever live in Westchester County
-- white completely fringed lycra shorts that look like a skirt because of the fringe, with attached gold plastic megabuckle, had previous life on a baton twirler, because I have never ever seen anything else remotely like them, absolutely intense with a tan and teetering heels

These things need, nea, deserve photo documentation. I continue to hope.

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