Do you know what I’ve been doing for the last 72 hours? Strategizing an exit plan from top shelf to anonymous cabinet somewhere, anywhere, for my sweaters. Do you know what I could have been doing? So many other things. I could have finished David Sedaris’ new book, or I could have followed Cara Delevingne in and out of the Bowery Hotel ad nauseaum until she accepted the plea to let me cut her hair. I could have called my mom, or my grandmother, or bought Rice Milk, but no, I was strategizing an exit plan. And do you know why? Because every time I gazed into that familiar black hole of curiosities choc full of the sweaters that cloaked my upper body through the totality of this frustratingly long winter, the high waist ripped jeans that lent diminutive frost bite to my knees and the Golden Goose sneakers–the fucking Golden Goose sneakers–I stopped myself short to proclaim, “I have nothing to wear.”
Now, this is obviously not true. I just catalogued three such genres of garment unabashedly loitering in my closet. So what’s my problem? And why am I framing this story in a sequence of stupid and rhetorical questions? Ah, yes, the time of year, (which answers one but not the latter, I’ll let you rip me a new one at your own disclosure.)
We’re back in limbo, folks, and that means it’s not particularly cold but it’s certainly not hot either. And what’s a girl to do under the circumstances that suggest she wear nothing and everything all at once? Opt for a uniform, abide by the uniform, and forget your knit-inflicted sorrows until you’re certain denim cut-off, white cotton/linen blend t-shirt weather is here and it is staying, which brings me to the above amalgamated.
My current mood is telling me there’s no better time to wear a short sleeve bathing suit as a top (this one is by Lisa Marie Fernandez and comes in an excellent shade of utility green,) with high rise, light wash, superbly roomy jeans, seemingly designed for a woman but fit for a man. (How else, after all, would we anticipate wearing body suits?) The ones photographed here are by MiH and are called the “Phoebe” which really forces me to believe they’re the indiscernible brainchild of a certain Mme. Philo. Per the accoutrements: two big cuffs, nothing small, nothing layered, and a bare neck. Photographed here Elsa Peretti’s bone cuff and Delfina Delettrez’s golden honeycomb–no pun intended.
The sunglasses are from Asos and their tinted lenses can be flipped up should you find yourself hungry for a Fresh Prince of Bel Air moment. The white strappy sandals are Alaia from The Outnet but I think you can and should really easily wear a flat with this too. Maybe a white Superga sneaker? Or those new Soludo espadrilles? Why now, am I talking in singulars? I don’t know. I just feel like the key thing to remember here is that if it rains, you’re gonna do great.
So, what are you in the mood for?