We’ve got to stop meeting like this.
Very frequently do I fall victim to the, er, persuasive rhetoric I broadcast through Man Repeller. Case in point: the photo above from last night’s WSJ Magazine innovator of the year awards at the MoMA times yesterday’s post on women in suits.
After spending extensive time supposing the female tuxedo, revisiting Yves Saint Laurent’s version, chronicling the new age printed adaptations, dubbing the summer suit (though due to my highly advanced sense of humor, no one so much as flinched when I likened Little Red Riding Hood’s wolf counterpart to Robert Pattinson) and simultaneously creating an outfit for this event that would be part smart (what if, after all, I did want to dive into the riveting world of stock options and commodities,) part suitable (pun not intended) for a subsequent party with a dress-code that read, dress extraordinary.
Is that the longest sentence you’ve ever read or at least among the top five?
Ultimately, I settled on (bought) the above velvet (viscose) suit from Zara–sold as separates and merchandised on opposite ends of the Prince Street store. Part Ralph Lauren, a hint Juicy Couture ca. heyday #1, conclusively everything I tried to communicate yesterday.
Know what I mean?
…But also, a glorified velour tracksuit. Run DMC, anyone?