I could have just named this post “Suede Cubed.”
Hi party people. Remember this installment? Before you answer, I’ll just take the liberty of refreshing your memory. I intended to, every Friday, feature another garment handed over to me from the fantastical treasure chest of a closet that splits its time–in true Jewish grandmother spirit–between New York, Florida–and here’s the fancy kick–Cannes, France.
Heck yes the last of the closet division means free accommodations should I ever attend the Cannes Film Festival.
In any case, the garment that gets the VSquared (get it, get it? Vintage Vendredi.
Where was all this math savvy in high school? I was always this math savvy) treatment today found it’s way over from a closet in New York.
It’s orange, it’s suede. It’s perfect. Let’s talk fabric blocking.
I am essentially hitting two birds with one stone because I’m color blocking and fabric blocking. As evidenced by the title of this post though, there’s one more element of suede to come in to play. I’d never cheat you little flamingos, so here it is.
Yes I needed a pedicure but for the sake of a good photo, I waited until after the shoot so to match my nail color to my shoe color. Also, I do appreciate a few imperfections and on this day, chipped nails were it.
I matched a DIYed turban to the corduroy chair that I knew would play a key role in the art direction and formation on this blog post. This is intrinsic shit, guys. Things don’t just happen.
A little history about the shirt: my grandmother is the fanciest Turkish woman to walk planet earth. The point of that though was just to tell you that she is Turkish and thus bought the shirt in…Turkey. When I stole it from her home, it was sitting among an entire rainbow of different colored suede button ups. I wanted to take a green one to wear with purple pants but then I remembered I didn’t own purple pants. I do now though, so Suede Cubed may or may not make a comeback in the coming weeks.
The point of this installment was fabric blocking though. So I chose orange to wear with red to look like Fall while preaching Spring’s arrival. So multi-layered and dichotomous, eh?
Ultimately, this post seemed like a timely follow to yesterday’s post. Celebrating the importance of different generations of fashion and personal style is sometimes overlooked, even in a world where vintage clothes are far more valuable and lucrative than those brand new, so taking a few moments to highlight some of the colors, shapes and fabrics that tugged at the heartstrings of the women that came before we did just seemed like a proper way to ring in the weekend.
Here’s to hitting menopause.
All photos by Naomi Shon, duh.