I am elated that I’ve identified and titled my travel disorder (for the uninitiated or tardy-to-read, it happened yesterday and it is called Stoop Kid Syndrome because I am afraid to leave my stoop. The stoop in question is New York and when I am pushed out, I lose not just my social cues but every cue I have heretofore accrued be they related to style, beauty, intellect, sink faucets and the like).
I’m sorry that you’re probably going to have to hear about Stoop Kid Syndrome for the next 75 days but as is always the case with another disorder, Peanut Butter Syndrome, identified by my friend Rosie but exploited here (you know what they say, good artists copy, great artists steal), this too shall grow tired and nauseating and frustrating to talk about. So let me ride my wave, would you?
In packing for Paris last month, I had this idea — which seemed great at the time but proved constricting upon European contact — to take one denim dress and wear it six different ways which would take care of three full days of outfits during the course of my eight day trip. I think I executed the task fairly well but then again, you are the metric that gauges my achievements so in an attempt to win your favor, here are three (fine, two, the first is just the dress free-balling like a weener in boxer shorts) of the six looks recreated on American soil.
In de-festooned, snooze-fest-central look numero uno, I’m wearing just the Mina + Olya denim dress plus pumps. When I wore it, it was to a small dinner hosted by a magazine followed by a big dinner hosted by no one and then a third dinner where the sun don’t shine but the fries are cooked in duck fat.
Look numero dos is closest to an outfit I wore to shows. It features a white turtleneck plus navy cashmere sweater. Both tops are worn over the dress and tucked into the back which is concealed by the overarching leather jacket. I wore socks and those Nicholas Kirkwood pumps (fine! I didn’t! I wore flat loafers!) that vaguely make me feel like a J. Crew model.
And THEN, then there was the time I put a red and black flannel shirt from Uniqlo over the dress and only buttoned the top two buttons so I could loop that Saint Laurent bow tie through the collar and cloak the sausage-making in a black leather matrix style jacket by Calvin Klein. I wore Golden Goose white sneakers and a Mark Cross fashion lunch box that comes replete with no food at all.
Brb, gotta go eat breakfast.