Reception Dress, or Exhibit D, or 1950s on a non-1950s face

OK, I won't post anymore beautiful dresses that I don't wear. I will wear them and remix them from here on out (although not exclusively). This last dress was my reception dress at our wedding this past March. As you can tell, it was a vintage and uber casual affair. I got this (and my wedding dress) on Etsy for about $26, and I purposely picked out something that could be worn casually after the wedding. There is nothing wrong with this dress (other than the fact it's from a vintage pattern or is actually vintage, and the waist is 1" above my natural waist, but it still fits). The pleats are beautiful, the skirt full and so of-the-moment midcentury, and the color easy to coordinate.
Just for fun, I tried on the vintage crinoline with this dress. It's very cute, but is it wearable outside of a theme party? I am not one of those amazing vintage ladies who can rock victory curls, ruby lips and still look contemporary with their reproduced looks, like the great Gertie. But I tried anyway:

I don't feel like a Peggy or a Betty, despite the pearls and the crinoline. I think it's cute, but it looks off to me. And I realized why. Not to be too racially over-deterministic, but while there were plenty of people of color around in the 1950s, I associate strong midcentury looks with white-Americans. I know that plenty of people all over the world wore these styles, but somehow anything before the late 1960s/early 1970s feels a bit off on me (except hippie and some mod stuff, which I think has been mainstreamed a lot). With laws like the Oriental Exclusion Act of 1924, there weren't loads of folks who looked like me here in the states, until the passing of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. For some reason, 1940s styles don't make me feel this way, but that is probably because of the 1940s revivals in the 1970s.

But this is just an impression I have, and it doesn't reflect empirical evidence. There were thriving Chinatowns, significant populations of Japanese, Filipino, and other Asian American communities in the United in the midcentury.

A youth group from a Chinese Presbyterian Church in SF

What do you think about vintage looks, accessibility, and race? I am not sure what my discomfort is from, because I like prairie looks a lot, and I am pretty sure no one looked me in the midwest prairie in the turn of the century (although Little House was pretty popular in Korea, according to my parents).

Hope you have a lovely Friday!

Edit: Thanks to Liz of Scholar Style Guide for the heads up on this threadbared post, which deals with this issue much more succinctly!

Dress: handmade vintage, via Etsy
Shoes: BC Footwear, via Nordstrom Rack, and Tahari, via Ebay
Belt: thrifted
Pearls: vintage, via etsy
Cardigan: Limited, thrifted

Dad's Day

I've been having a nice and relaxing (translation: lazy and nap-filled) time here in the north 'burbs of Atlanta. Blokey and I almost died* while driving up the mountains to the wedding last night. I haven't been creative with my dress, but I have been looking at old photos, a favorite "stuck in the suburbs where you have few friends," activity. In honor of Father's Day, I'm celebrating my dad's unique style.

My dad is the original Rad. He is the funniest person I know, and even though we fought a lot in high school, he is one of many reasons that my sister and I know to date really awesome, nice dudes. I think I am very similar to him in looks, personality, and our unfortunate propensities to pursue a PhD. My father was a tall and slender drink of water back in the mid 1970s, and remains relatively slender despite pushing his 60s. He has his own sense of style, which consists of wearing XL or XXL button up shirts (despite his non-XL frame), black cotton athletic crew socks, black slacks and belt, and black safety shoes/Florsheims. The weekend version of this consists of XL/XXL colorful polo shirts/Hawaiian shirts, casual slacks, and brown leather clogs. We love him anyway, but it's nice to be reminded that he didn't always dress this way:

Rad's Dad: in his single years, rocking the cuffed slender pants and peppy look (back when he was outdoorsy)

Slim and stylish, left most (and tallest) dude on the bridge

The man is wearing a slim fitting pink (!!) shirt, on a suspension bridge with my ma, 1976. (What's going on with her pants?)

Rocking a chocolate colored slim fitting suit, on some rocky beach in South Korea. Note the funny duck face.

*Maybe not exactly, but I did freak out at dirt and gravel roads up mountains that were only wide enough for one car. That's not a road, people, that's a pre-modern driveway.

1940s via 1980s?

1940s via 1980s?, originally uploaded by Cohabitating_Closet.

While in Chicago, C. and I popped by a vintage shop on Lincoln Ave, and of course my eye was drawn to this very red dress that my mom (and probably most mothers of people my age) had likely worn during my early childhood. Since I have a soft spot for all things that my mom wore at one point, I tried it on (it was on sale) and it fit pretty well. The waist even hit in the right spot. It's a softer polyester, and there is a little bit of staining, but it's pretty slight. This may not be obvious in the picture but the skirt is a wrap cascading style.
I was curious about this style of dress. It seemed a bit reminiscent of a 1940s style dress I've seen in vintage dress patterns (although they usually have a slightly below the knee hem). I found this pattern and it does seem to have a resemblance. I have seen a number of 1980s/late 1970s items on Etsy and Ebay that also seem to have a 1940s or 1930s style. Was this an actual trend back then? Vintage mavens, have any clue?

source

For some reason, I wanted to go 1950s with styling this, hence the cardigan, hair scarf and the brown oxfords. I am not teaching today, but I am going in to attend a panel discussion for a colleague's book (the same awesome colleague who gave me a positive evaluation on my teaching). Not only to support him, but also because I offered it to my students as an extra credit. (Somehow all my generosity will not stop a few cranky ratemyprofessor.com evals from popping up at the end of the semester. Eh, my recalcitrant students will appreciate my efforts after they've been working a few years).

Dress: vintage shop, Lincoln Square (Chicago)
Belt: thrifted
Oxfords: Tahari via ebay
Microfishnets: Daffy's
Scarf: swapped

Earth Day Dressing (or recyling D.Keaton's style)

Earth Day Dressing (or recyling D.Keaton's style), originally uploaded by Cohabitating_Closet.

Today is Earth Day. I am tying this into my lessons by teaching the Kyoto Protocol (but not the stuff since Kyoto) and the Millennium Development Goals, which include environmental sustainability. I am by no means a very green fashion consumer/producer. I probably would not even call myself green in general. Not because I dislike being environmentally friendly, but rather I am often too lazy/busy/silly to be bothered to take the extra step. I engage in a lot of green sins, and I have guilt. But here are some ways that I try to include environmental concerns into my daily life and style.
The most important goal that I have is to use what I can afford to buy most effectively and for the longest possible time, and to minimize what I contribute to landfills. (I actually think that some "fast fashion" can be worn for many years. I have Old Navy pants that are [almost] a decade old, and H&M tops that are still strong after 8 years! Maybe cheaper retailer often put out trendy pieces that look dated very quickly, and thus get disposed of months later). Other goals and actions include:
1) Second hand consumption: I can't know exactly how everything I buy is produced (whether it was environmental friendly or labor friendly) but it's good to know that waste and costs associated with initial production aren't reproduced for me to acquire a second time. This includes swapping items with friends. I also donate and swap any clothes/shoes that I no longer wear.
2) Minimizing the purchase of new goods made of certain synthetic fibers (polyester, PVC, and other polymers are made from petroleum. Certain rayon, lycras and viscose are not, however), which tend to break down slowly.
3) Repairing the things I do have (sewing on buttons, patching, fixing seams, and becoming uber friendly with the local cobbler. I am very hard on my shoes)
4) Refashioning "out of style" goods into more contemporary silhouettes
5) Borrowing from the Blokey (if he's not wearing it, I can)

Lula doesn't think only Blokey should be able to sport that rad 1970s liner

6) Don't use the dryer, but instead air dry your clothes. I don't wash things after one wear.
7) Being conscious about the political economy (and ecology) of textile and clothing production, including both educating my students about this and having it inform my decisions about consumption.
8) This may seem silly, but I ride my bike or take the train/walk to go shopping. I don't have a car, but this means I can only buy what I can carry (often in a crowded subway car). I also try to use my own canvas bags.

I am aware that this cheap bag I picked up in a Frankfurt Tengelmann is on the arms of skinny ironically dressed youngster in Brooklyn. Darn it.

This outfit was strongly influenced by a pattern that Gertie showed on her blog (as I read through her archives) that was so 1970s Annie Hall. It seems I am embracing menswear in an exuberant way lately. I have to travel and be professional again this weekend, so who knows what I'll pack.

Sorry so professory. I hope that you have/had an excellent Earth Day.

Vest: From fella's wedding suit (supposedly vintage 1970s, made in Poland, no tag)
White button down: Loft
Pants: Old Navy, 2001
Boots: Born, via Ebay

9 to 5

9 to 5, originally uploaded by Cohabitating_Closet.
I feel a bit like Lily Tomlin from 9 to 5. Well actually, all those girls wore similar "secretary" style dresses in great colors.

I picked this up at the local vintage store a while back, but haven't worn it yet. Honestly, I feel a little self conscious in something so bright and so vintage. I threw the swapped cardigan on top and it seemed to tone down a lot of the ruffle and frill. Still a nice dress.
This is something that I struggle with in general though. I like vintage clothes, recycling, and reworking older styles but it's always a challenge to not look too costumey. I am teaching today, and it's the week before spring break, so I don't worry about projecting uber authority or anything like that. I can have fun with my clothes, but I don't want to appear too crazy. I have this concern about the mod dress too.

This is a better view of the colors. More tomato than bright red

What are you tips for wearing vintage while still looking modern?

Edit: Sal from Already Pretty did a great guest post at Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing on tips for wearing vintage. It's true: the internets is better than ice cream.

Dress: Not Just Vintage
Cardigan: swap, J Crew
Tights: Hue (Macy's?)
Shoes: Naturalizer, online
Belt: thrifted

vaguely 60s

vaguely 60s, originally uploaded by Cohabitating_Closet.

This is a recent thrift store find. Simple black jersey boatneck (supposedly very flattering to the small chested.) We are headed to a pizza/birthday party in Crown Heights tonight and it's actually hot out. The nice lady detectives who came to our apartment were sweating and I offered them water. Blokey's testimony was useful for them, which was good, and we found out that the crime, while still terrible, was far less heinous then the neighborhood gossip suggested.
I also picked up this "mod" style dress. I take mod as being in the style of the swinging sixties London, often made of up stiffer woven or double knit fabrics, without much tailoring. It's adorable, maybe little big (I can resize soon), but how to wear it without looking like Santa Claus? It's too hot (70 degrees) to wear right now, but it will get colder again. It needs a slip (Blokey calls double knit polyester "wearing oil" since it's basically petroleum).

The sleeves are slightly puffed and quite darling. Necklace? White tights?

Blokey suggested a coat. I am afraid of black with this dress. Too Santa-y

Or I could just say, "Screw you and your fear of St. Nick and America!" and drape myself in denim and black combat boots.

Any and all suggestions are deeply appreciated!

Black Tshirt dress: thrifted, Land's End
Grey pleather belt, free with Ebay purchase,
socks: GAP,
shoes: thrifted, Aersoles
"mod" dress: thrifted
black boots: MIA

hodge podege traditions

Thanks to Anne for the adorable post. And thanks for all your help with the wedding. (Anne is a baker extraordinaire, with another blog, the Shepwell Kitchen. Check it out if you know what's good for you, food wise). In case you were wondering why my dress is so long and white, I wanted to blog announce that Blokey and I got married on Saturday.
I'm in the Chicago airport right now, hoping that my delayed flight will take off soon. I will write a more detailed post when I get access to more photos. I wanted to give one more quick photo of my dress, taken in the church bathroom before the ceremony.
Have a great week, folks!

Breaking rules with long skirts

I take guidelines for figure flattery seriously. Like Academichic, Fashion for Nerds, and Already Pretty's great tutorials. I love to learn new things, even now as learning and teaching is my bread and butter. But sometimes I want to bend the rules. Sometimes I just want to fun and hope that I don't look like a bag lady. The Olson twins (almost) single-handedly made unflattering, unconventional, and less shapely layered outfits (with killer shoes) one of the most important trends of the 2000s, so there is definitely an art to non-figure flattery.
Today, in addition to regular at home work, we are going to downtown Brooklyn for errands, and then the Upper East Side for his and her haircuts. This means train time and lots of walking. I know that this outfit would look more flattering with my cognac boots, or if I lopped 3-4 inches off the skirt. But I kind of like the weirdness factor of the combat boots. I also realize that I have stumpified my legs. I think that I am OK with that. The skirt is wool and uber warm and it will keep the cold off my legs (with the leggings) as I walk around uptown, as my jeans and pants drying on a rack.

It's a little monochromatic, but I did this intentionally so I could emphasize the beautiful camel color of the vintage coat. The skirt is actually grey, black, and camel plaid, so I thought it was perfect.

I am also breaking my (self-imposed) rule of trying to be more colorful, but sometimes I just like to be head to toe in neutrals. I still don't really know what exactly qualifies as neutrals (I thought camel was a color. See a great discussion here).

close up of the skirt plaid

Do you ever dress in a way that you know doesn't flatter you, either to have fun or just to try things out?

I'm actually this happy about my new (to me) coat, tailored at the local dry cleaner

Coat: Collecther, $42
Leggings, Target, $5
Boots, Mia, $85
Skirt: Pendleton, vintage, via ebay ($7 including shipping) (the other half of this blazer)
Sweater: Espirt, $30
Knit hat: Brooklyn Industries, $19

Cohabitator's style

My fella is not interested in participating in the world of style blogs, but I think I take a lot of fashion cues from him. When I met him, he had expertly mussed wavy hair, worn in a 70s style shag (no mullet) and he was wearing this Member's Only style blue poly blend, snap front jacket, a well worn vintage cream with red stripes button down shirt, and nice (but not skinny) jeans, with red retro style sneakers (pseudo bowling shoes). I thought to myself, "Who is this attractive stranger who likely spends a lot of time perfecting his look?" Turns out that his hair is the product of trial and error, and his clothes are mostly from his grandfather's closet, as well as some secondhand stuff. When we started dating, I was just beginning to experiment away from the "black t shirt, blue jeans" uniform that I wore through most of graduate school (various Europeans had influenced me along the way).

My partner has a signature retro, 1970s inspired style, which is interesting and ethical in its own way. He is more invested in aesthetics and style than me, but lacks my vanity, and has a stronger anti-consumption ethic. While he doesn't have a lot of clothes, he takes really good care of all the clothes he buys (cold water wash, hang dry, well folded). In contrast, I am really rough on everything: shoes, pants, socks, and sweaters.

This is typical Blokey style. I got him the shirt from ebay (pearl snap button western style shirt, evidently all the rage now), the jeans are older H&M (he can makes "disposal fashion" last forever), and the boots are from the ultra clearance rack at the Brooklyn DSW. He wears clothing that is cut close to the body to emphasize his really long and lean frame.

This is basically the coolest person I know.

Sunday afternoon.
A friend said about this photo, "All that's missing is cigarettes and whiskey."

The guitar is a circa 1975 Fender Stratocaster.

Vintage on a Sunday afternoon

I checked out Collecther today. As expected, the owner told me that they had been cleaned out by folks since the Times article, but there were still plenty of finds.

The goal of the trip was a cool, earth toned vintage tie for blokey. He actually smiled when he saw it: success!
Vintage acetate tie: $12 (Sunday sale)

I tried on a number of beautiful dresses, but ended up buying a coat instead.

I feel like femme Inspector Gadget

Vintage handmade coat: Collecther, $42 (with discount)
Grey sweater tights: Street Vendor, $5
Plum pashmina (it's real, not the kind I buy for 5 bucks on the street): $12
Booties: DSW, $45

During the swap, I coveted a camel colored coat, but it was pretty thin and it fit my friend better. But I saw this beautiful, thick wool camel dress coat on the coat rack. It was hand made (I could tell by flipping up the lining and seeing unfinished seams on the body), and lacked a brand/shop label. It had a material label on the side, which suggested that someone may have made in it a tailoring/seamstress shop.
The only problem was that my gangly arms were like 1.5" too long for the sleeves. I decided that hemming sleeves could be a doable hand sewing project. This took me about 75 minutes. Mostly because this weird rose powder came out of the lining (which I had to clean up many times) and I had a conversation with my mother while stitching (women are possibly better at multitasking because of our denser cerebral corpus callosum, says peer reviewed research). I'm still coughing all that rosey Grandma-like essence out of my system.

First, I turned the sleeve inside out. I pulled out the seams by the lining (using a handy seam ripper), and then I pinned a new hem, and pressed it with an iron high.

Next, I did this neat trick of using the stitch as a hem, by creating small stitches around the edge of the wool, that made a small stitch mostly invisible on the other side, the sew it in place (I'll eventually use a machine to reinforce it when I can get one working). Here I am almost done with one sleeve. The lining is sewed in place a few spots lower on the sleeve, so I was not so concerned.

Yep, I sew on my computer table. Hey, our apartments are small in NY

Next, I used the iron to smooth it out again. It's not perfect at all (you can kind of see that the edge got dirty on the old seam), but I'm pretty pleased. I can wear it now reasonably well.

I'd like to take this to the tailor that is currently fixing Fella's suit, and ask him to take it in an inch or so (I think it kind of overwhelms me right now) in the side seams, and then hack off about 4 inches. It currently ends at the thickest part of my calf, and I know that I am a reasonably attractive person, but there's no reason to wear a beautiful coat that makes me look short.
Also, those buttons have to go. Ick. Luckily, I already know to go to Vardhman, where the beautiful buttons all go to hang out.

Sewing machine and second hand drama

One of the reason I started up this blog was not just to be creative with the clothes I had, but because I was inspired by the awesome DIY ethics of so many style bloggers, like No Signposts in the Sea and E from Academichic. I ebayed a sewing machine back in January (while struggling with a paper) and decided that my reward for writing two papers for that conference in New Orleans was re-learning how to sew. I'd start out small, like hemming a skirt and making curtains, and then move on to simple skirts and skills. Blokey's aunt has offered me sewing books, and the ebay machine was fully functioning and in good order.

I even went to Steinlaufs in the Garment district, the Pratt Store, and Target to get supplied.

Alas, my vintage sewing dreams were dashed when my newbie self realized that the Singer 2112 did not have a presser foot. I wrote to the ebay seller, and s/he was unresponsive. I followed the directions at sew4less.com and ordered a zigzag, zipper, and straight foot for this model. Or so I thought. They arrived yesterday, and I tried to snap them on. No luck.

curse you, deficient cool old sewing machine!

To add insult to injury, Ebay informed me that since so much time had passed since the purchase, my period to file a claim with them was one day past.

I was sleepy and fell asleep with my entire outfit on over my covers at 9:45 to deal with my frustration. This morning, I decided that drop the money on a new or reconditioned one (I deserve my hobby). Any thoughts for a good budget (but quite functional) sewing machine?

Since I was up before the sun (rare), I worked on mending my new vintage blouse.
This gossamar thin lovely reminds me of Karen Carpenter or Stevie Nicks. I would prefer to dress like Joni Mitchell or Carole King, but baby steps:

(She was only $5 including shipping from Etsy seller In Search Of)


mending supplies from Steinlauf and Stollers

The offending tear in the front of the blouse (which I treated with anti-fray liquid the night before)

Place the patch thing, shiny/slick side down, on the "inside" of the blouse. I used an ironing press cloth (muslin?) between the iron and the blouse

After placing the iron (on "wool" setting) for 15 seconds


I next mended a small collar hole


After: vintage repair win!

The sleeves are very short and it is quite transparent, so I need a sleeve strategy and a nude cami (or a slip). I'll be in business soon.

Dressing like Mom

This post is dedicated to my mom. She and I have our differences, but I admire her greatly. She came to the States by herself at the ripe old age of 21, and has always been a working women, raising three kids and creating a new career for herself after age 45. She is super involved in her community, runs a successful business, and looks great. She is one of the working women who ended up having it all* (and remains a slim size 2, even in her late 50s).
I wore a vintage 1970s tweedy "mauve" skirt suit today. It reminds me of the sepia toned photographs of my mom when she was my age. I wish I had a cool silk shirt too, but maybe that would be too costumey. I always get loads of compliments, including one from younger folks in hip hop styles. It's not a Mad Men outfit. It's my homage to my mom. (Plus, I love the 1970s fashions. There was a lot of ugliness, and polyester, but there was also a whole lot of cool).

(Ah, hotel decor)

The lining is just nuts too:

The skit is just a wee bit tight. Or maybe I'm just not used to wearing skirts on my natural waist? The skirt even has pockets. I adore this suit and I don't think it needs accessory but if you have an idea on how to make it more brilliant, I'd love to hear it!

*no offense to Liz Lemon

Larry Levine skirt suit (1970s?), $20 on ebay
tights: Target, $5
shoes: $45, Naturalizer
white button up: Loft, $25 (summer sale).