Fashion Friday

This week I feel sexy in…

Earrings: Forever 21. Sweater: Gap Outlet. Dress: Black House White Market. Belt: Thrifted. Tights: Sock Dreams. Shoes: Pierre Michel

Black and white!

I’ve been dressing in colour for as long as I can remember. I only recently began to see how black and white ensembles can create the same sense of whimsy and drama as the bright, bold hues I favour. This first outfit was blantantly ripped off from inspired by Sally. Sometimes a gal gets to feelin’ a little derivative.

Beret: eBay. Shirt: Old Navy. Belt: Joe Fresh (thrifted). Skirt: Ann Taylor (thrifted). Boots: Old Navy (gifted from my mom).

I love outfits composed of well-matched prints. Unfortunately, when I try to execute the look I usually wind up looking like a scary patchwork clown. But black and white prints make for easy-peasy combos. I also love that although there are two small hits of yellow here, the colour really stands out.

Hat: Le Chateau (Thrifted). Earrings: Unknown (Thrifted). Dress: Zara (Thrifted) Belt: Forever 21(Thrifted). Bracelet: Gift from friend. Shoes: Gift from The Man of Mans.

I wore this outfit to the Les Prix Rideau Awards – Ottawa’s annual shout out to the best in local theatre.  Every part of this ensemble was either thrifted or gifted. I nabbed the dress for a mere $8 dollars and though it was a little big up top, that left me plenty of money for alterations. I whisked my new-to-me-frock to my tailor, who made the necessary adjustments. It fit perfectly when I picked it up two weeks ago, but apparently my boobs shrank in the interim because when I put it on for the awards it was loose again. I wound up filling the gap with The Green Bean’s socks.

This is Kevin.

You may remember him from his guest post a couple of weeks ago. Kevin is my true friend and a super-kind soul who spent a good chunk of time mad-dancing with me at The PRA after-party. He looked so damn good in his vintage skinny suit that I had to post his picture here, so you could all see for yourselves!

Have a great weekend, everyone…and don’t forget I’ve got a surprise in store next Tuesday, May 1st, so be sure to check in!

My First Dating Related Post. A Guest Post by Wayne Current

Wayne Current is one of my closest confidants. He’s also a fantastic writer and keen observer of human relationships. Although he was unsure about tackling the subject of relationships in a blog post, I knew if he gave it a go he would nail it. True to form, Wayne came through with flying colours!

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I have to admit that writing a post for Nadine’s blog has been a really intimidating adventure. This all began with an email where she wrote to her guest bloggers saying,

“Thank you all SO much for agreeing to guest post on the blog while I’m away next week! Feel free to post about anything related to the subjects of sex, relationships, dating, body image, gender and the like. It can be any format you like – long, short, a list, an essay, whatever. It can definitely tie in to the stuff your writing on your blogs as well.”

Sex? Relationships? And dating? I was confused. These are all topics that are very far away from my area of expertise. When had I ever written about any of these themes? Certainly not on my little arts blog! Furthermore, I didn’t actually recall ever making a firm commitment to be a guest blogger at all. We did have a conversation at the Oak where I said I would consider it. At best I gave a definite maybe. I totally intended to bail on writing this post, but for those of you who know Nadine well, you will recognize that Ms. Thornhill has a way of getting what she wants so here is my first post on dating and romance:

Here’s something I’ve noticed as a single, heterosexual man, living in Ottawa: in most contemporary heterosexual courtships the expectation is still on the male to take the more active role in selecting mates, while many females wait passively with the desire to be chosen rather than be the one taking the initiative.

Now I have no scientific evidence to back up this observation (I warned you I wasn’t an expert!) but based on my own experiences, and those in my social circle, I think it’s fairly safe to say that this is a general trend. I became keenly aware of this phenomenon late last summer after I created an online profile at OKcupid (an online dating site.)

Most of my time on this site, was spent searching profiles, looking at photos, and then writing small well crafted messages to those who interested me (admittedly a small sample). At the time, I kind of assumed women were doing the same thing, but a week went by and I had yet to receive a message from someone I hadn’t contacted directly. In the meantime, I had acquired a pen pal (someone I contacted, who was seeing someone else, but who still wanted to chat). I asked her about this phenomena and she said this was totally normal. In her view, the online dating world mirrors society at large and this is the way that power is exchanged generally between men and women.

I conferred with a few friends, and while not true in all cases, this was again confirmed as a general behaviour particularly in the online world. Men would bombard women with messages and women would hope that one of them would be interesting enough to write back. To me this is a bit odd. In a world where a liberal society recommends women take control, over their career path, their reproductive choices, and well pretty much everything else, why are women not encouraged to take the initiative with their potential mates? Or are they encouraged to do so but just not acting on this recommendation?

After a few months I did receive a small handful of messages from women who obviously had decided to play a very different game. This was refreshing because it was such a rarity. I was much more likely to engage with these women in conversation because of this. If grades were awarded I would grant a half to full grade for those who weren’t afraid to reach out in a friendly fashion. In short, by going against the grain you stand out. It’s definitely more interesting and often more exciting (at least in the beginning).

Since I’m being honest, many of these conversations started by women went exactly the same way as those I initiated myself. I would lose interest or not be that attracted, they would lose interest or not be that attracted, or both of us would mutually lose interest. I’ve actually only ever met two women in person from this site and only dated one of those.

So why do you think this lack of initiative exists? Is it a problem? Do you have online or in person experiences of your own to share?

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Wayne Current blogs about arts, culture and livin’ the good life in Ottawa at his blog, The Many Faces of Wayne.

Return Of The Assless Chaps: On The Frontiers of the Sexual Aesthetics of Porn. A Guest Post By Sterling Lynch.

Trust Sterling to take my request for vintage-era porn and turn into thought-provoking blog post that has me doing deep some analysis of the aesthetics of porn through the ages. I’m s’pposed to be on vacation, yo!

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As much as my Seinfeld-era sense of narrative nothingness loves the idea of only contributing a guest blog post that is about nothing more than the blog post itself, Nadine’s request that I source some silent era porn in exchange for her assless chaps quest did spark an idea for the kind of post I normally write.

Plus, I have links to a bunch of porn that looks to be genuinely of the silent era.

Open at your discretion people. These are explicit clips designed for heterosexual male consumption. It’s a fairly mainstream free porn site (RedTube.com), but I don’t know whether or not it will add crap into your browser.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,

For me, what stands out the most about these clips is how very similar they are to contemporary pornography.

Other than the actual quality of the image and a slower pace (which is true of all films — porn or not), narratively and aesthetically speaking, these films are shot-for-shot and position-for-position almost identical to most of the contemporary porn I encounter. The only real difference is a greater emphasis on kissing and fondling and, in one case, post coital bliss.

There are a few plausible explanations why this silent era porn is so much like contemporary era porn.

First, maybe these clips are aren’t genuine. In my search for silent era porn, I turned up some clips that are obviously odes to the silent era rather than actually from the silent era. If you suspect bullshit, let it be known in the comments section.

Second, it’s possible that the sexual aesthetics of most men have not evolved very much over the years.

Three, it’s possible that the sexual aesthetics of the people who control the industry (both the producers and the consumers) have not evolved much.

Four, it’s possible that the aesthetics of porn are self-perpetuating. Most people learn about sex through porn, so people’s notions of explicit sexual content is over determined by the already existing aesthetics of porn.

Five, it’s possible the genre has limited aesthetic possibilities, particularly given the target market. There’s only so many ways to tell the story of boy meets girl, boy fucks girl, boy’s relationship to girl ends immediately after he blows his load on, in, or near girl that will satisfy the demands of the hetero-male consumer.

Six, there’s no competitive advantage to innovation in this market for porn. In an industry that sells its product by the pound, taking the time to innovate might not lead to any discernible benefit. Egro, why innovate?

Seven, my sample size is too limited. There may be plenty of more interesting “for hetero-male eyes only” porn out there and, silent era or not, I ain’t going to find it on a freebie site.

Eight, it’s possible I’m not giving credit where credit is due. Maybe, by your eyes, the change in aesthetic is more substantial than I am suggesting. For example, the manner in which women give blow jobs in porn has certainly evolved over the years, even if the BJ itself appears and is presented in pretty much the same way in every clip.

What do you think?

Do you agree or disagree with my claim that the sexual aesthetics of these silent era clips are very similar to the sexual aesthetics of contemporary porn? Are the sexual aesthetics of porn mostly unchanged? What factors do you think best explain the lack of change? If the porn industry is changing, what do you think is the catalyst for this change?

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Sterling Lynch waxes philosophical about everything from identity to the popularity of brailizians for balls at his eponymous blog, Sterling Lynch.

The Assless Chaps Strike Back: Here’s Your Pound Of Flesh, Nadine. A Guest Post by Sterling Lynch

In 2010, my pal Sterling Lynch sent me on a quest for chaps – a task I completed promptly and admirably with documentation provided. Not long after, I proposed a counter-quest for Sterling…and well…you’ll have to read his guest post to find out how that played out.

Sterling has entered written evidence that supposedly proves aspects of his mission were voluntary. But that’s not the whole story! There were also oral exchanges (that’s not what I meant!) I was led to believe a quest-post was forthcoming. It’s true that over the years, I have moderate inquiries about the progress of Sterling’s post. I was well within my rights to do so. He *said* he would give it to me and I demand satisfaction!

That’s not what I meant.

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Be careful what you tweet for.

I’m not even sure how it all got started, but I know it started on Twitter because ALL_CAPS intervened in my back and forth with Nadine to point out that chaps — by definition — are assless.

Wikipedia, thankfully, supports the view Nadine and I share: the expression “assless chaps,” despite its redundancy, does designate a unique phenomenon — that is, chaps designed and worn for fetish purposes.

Go ahead do an image search on Google. You know you want to.

Anyway, clearly, assless chaps are the sort of thing one should look for on a trip to San Francisco! Or so I thought. Nadine, always agreeable to all things silly and titillating, agreed. The scavenger hunt I proposed was, after all, putting the tit back into silly!

She blogged it, of course, and somehow managed to try on a fabulous dress while touring the Castro in search of assless chaps. Read it here.

In this post, sharp readers will notice that a causal Twitter conversation is transmogrified by Nadine into a “demand” on my part. This transmogrification reads all the more strange to my eyes because I’m sure — sure! — Nadine was soliciting ideas for adventures in San Francisco. No demand, I can assure you, was made by me.

Sure enough, an email arrived two days after the post went live. Under the title, “Your mission (should you choose to accept it)”, Nadine writes,

Given your apparent enthusiasm for 1920’s fashions and your interest in various porn-flavours, your quest is as follows: Find some olde tyme, silent-film era porn. Bonus points if accompanied by a related blog-post.

While it’s certainly true that I am enthusiastic about 1920s fashion and have an, ahem, “interest” in various flavours of porn, it was unclear to me how or why Nadine thought this generated a “mission” for me to fulfil.

I noted that the mission was characterized as a “if you choose to accept it” mission, so I chose to stall for time, replying:

Alright, let me think on this… 🙂

As it happens, a couple of weeks later, while I was undertaking, ahem, some “research” into my “interests,” I stumbled across this NSFW clip. It’s not from the 20s, but it looks to be authentically silent era.

Like Bush on that aircraft carrier in the Gulf, I flipped Nadine the link and triumphantly declared, “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!”

To which she replied,

Looks authentic! Funny, I was re-reading the ChapQuest post this afternoon. You found the porn. Now all you have to do is blog it. 🙂

Que? Now all I “have to do” is what? Blog it? How did “bonus points” turn into a “have to?” Again, I stalled for time, replying,

Oh. Am I supposed to blog it? Sure thing! 🙂

My smilies here are meant, I think, to imply something like, sure, when I get around to it, Mrs. Grabby Pants.

And there the discussion sat for a long long while, until it finally boiled over one candy wine meth fueled night.

Nadine said slurred something like, hey, you never wrote that blog post about vintage porn. you filthy double crossing, liar, and cheat, where the hell is that blog post you owe me? I’m going to cut you, fat boy. Again!

To which I hoarsely screamed replied, you will read it in hell, you, Queen of the Harpies I will be glad to write the post as soon as an opportunity arises.

When Nadine asked me to guest blog, while she was on vacation, I thought, aha! here’s my chance to publicly denounce her to resolve our misunderstanding in an agreeable fashion for all.

Mission accomplished.

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Sterling Lynch waxes philosophical about everything from identity to the popularity of brailizians for balls at his eponymous blog, Sterling Lynch.

One Day You And I Are Going To Die

Trigger Warning. This post is about sexual assault. Please exercise self-care and skip part or all of this post if you need to.

I’ve said it before. I will say it again, over and over until the day I die or until it no longer needs to be said. Whichever comes first.

Rape needs to stop.

One Day You & I Are Going To Die is a new blog founded by a group of survivors with the Vancouver Poetry Slam. The site is only days old, but it’s already dense with information and testimonials. It’s intensely powerful and potentially triggering. I’ve read several posts and I’ve felt everything – anger, sadness, fear, shame, inspiration, compassion, and a shit ton of admiration.

Some of these people are my friends. They’ve been through some ugly shit. To the survivors I know and to those I’ve never met, let me say first that I am sorry. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this.

Let me say next, that you people kick so much ass!

The authors at One Day have created a space where those affected can have a voice and find support.  And the affected include not only the survivors themselves, but friends, partners, fellow artists in the community and even loved ones of the perpetrator.

There is compassion for the perpetrator.

Compassion does not mean absolving a perpetrator of responsibility for what they’ve. Nor does compassion diminish the experience of the survivors. Compassion does mean recognizing that the perpetrator is not a “monster” or an “asshole” or some other term meant to symbolize their exclusion from the community.

This is probably a familiar perspective to some. It’s feels radical for me but after reading this post and this one, it makes sense. Even as I struggle with it. Even as I search inside for the emotional sensation I identify as compassion. Even as I admit it isn’t there.

I’ll keep trying to to find it.

I’ll keep trying because rape isn’t just libidinous, animalistic men lurking in dark places waiting to pounce on the next scantily clad women who walks by without an escort. In fact, in most cases it’s not that at all.

More people are assaulted in their homes than anyhwere else. The majority (close to 70%) of survivors are were assaulted by a spouse, a date, a partner, a family member or a neighbour. Survivors know their perpetrators.

Which means that we know them too.

In her open letter to “those who love someone who has been named as perpetrator” Lisa Slater writes,

…one day someone tells you something that seems to turn your whole relationship with that person on its head.

 The idea that a person we love has sexually assaulted someone – it is foreign. It feels wrong. It feels like a lie. It feels impossible. This can’t be so, you think to yourself. There must be some mistake. Maybe she made it up. Maybe she wasn’t clear. Maybe she was a slut, maybe she was asking for it, maybe she just regretted it the next day.

I want you to do me a favour: pretend, just for a moment, that it’s true. If it’s true, what could you do to support accountability and healing for perpetrator and survivor alike?

I believe that people behave in fucked up ways for a lot of reasons. I also believe that, in certain cases, extending a perpetrator the support that they need in order to heal and stop hurting people can be revolutionary. Part of that support might mean unconditional love… love that says that you will support them to get better and heal. That their behaviour is wrong, but they are not monsters….

 

Your support could mean that they could take that terrifying step forward, and admit what they’ve done.

Compassion. Like I said…not there yet.But I’m willing to make the effort to find it within myself.  I’ve seen repeatedly the tranformative power when good people communicate openly and act in love. To paraphrase John Lennon, I hope one day I will join them.

Love, so much love to the many voices at VanSlam and One Day You And I Going To Die. Thank you for your courage, your wisdom and your inspiring work. Moving forward, I look to your example because maybe it’s compassion, not condemnation that will bring us they day when rape stops.

Fashion Friday

This week I’m putting my money where my tagline line is.

Shoes: Chinese Laundry. Sweater: Aerie. Earrings: Forever 21.

Pants off. Shoes ON!

My recent visit to see Lisa, included a marathon of day shopping. We dropped mad cash all over town, but the majority of my greenbacks were spend at the glorious Discount Shoe Warehouse.

“I want ALL the shoes!” I declared upon entering. However, I don’t have ALL the money (and word is they frown on shoplifting down south) so I pared my selection down to three favourites,  all of which are sure to be in heavy rotation this season.

 

Shoes: Chinese Laundry. Bracelet: street vendor.

I’ve always enjoyed shoes, but it’s only very recently that I’ve ventured away from my usual choice of basic black, grey or token pop-of-colour colour, red. Apparently my typical love of colour and pattern stopped at the ankle. Technicolour footwear intimidated me in the past.   ‘When would I ever wear a shoe like that?’ I’d ask myself.

But there’s a time and a place for splashy footwear.  I’m sure I can figure out how to execute these pretties  And at low, low warehouse prices this seemed like to perfect opportunity to test the waters.

 

I’m also a recent convert to the wedge. At 5’4″ I’m not tiny, but I enjoy having the option of adding another couple of inches to my height if I so choose. Wedges serve both my desire to stand tall and my need for comfort very nicely. It’s come to my attention that some folks have very strong feelings for and against the wedge. Which side of the debate are you on?

FYI, it was my mom who first asked me to do a post featuring my new shoes. Which inspired me to pose pantsless on a table. Guess I know what I’ll be discussing at my next visit to the shrink.

Time to get off the table and onto the couch!

What Women Talk About (Post By Request)

Recently, John wrote to me with the following query:

I’ve got a question for you, from a guy’s perspective. To set the stage, here’s a quote from Friends:

Ross: Women tell each other everything. Did you know that?

Chandler: Umm, yeah.

Ross: No Chandler, everything! Like … stuff you like, stuff she likes, technique, stamina, girth….

Chandler: Girth? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why would they do this?

Ross: Rachel says sharing’s great and supposedly, you know, we outta be doing it. So …. d’you wanna?

Chandler: We’re not gonna talk about girth are we?

Ross: No!

 So my question is … do women really talk about girth?  What do women talk about when they’re talking about sex? Because maybe men wouldn’t admit it but I think we all, deep down, would feel flattered if we thought that we did (or had) something so special in bed that a woman would talk about it with her friends. But it’s a big mystery to us.

How detailed does the conversation get? Do you talk about his kissing ability, size, certain moves? Now that you are married, do you feel weird about talking to your girlfriends about your sex life? Anxious male minds want to know!

Women present a broad and varied spectrum of people, so I can’t pressume to speak for my gender as a whole. But personally, yes I have been known to dish about girth and other details of my sexual exploits, though perhaps not in the way one might assume.

Size

I’m a fan of the penis but I definitely wouldn’t characterize myself as a size queen. I’m more captivated by their shape and hydraulic function than how big one is in relation to another.  I rarely have conversations along the lines of “Oh my god is dick is SO huge/wide/small!”

Discussions about size usually happen when it presents a functional challenge I haven’t encountered before. Things “Hey, Group of Friends, my partner’s cock is longer than my vagina, how can I stop it from poking me in the cervix?” Or “Trusted Confidante, my partner has a slender penis. Do I need to apply more suction when I’m blowing him?”. Or “Hey pals! Standard size condoms don’t fit my partner properly. What should we do?”

Size may effect the way in which I have sex with a dude, but if I’m having sex with someone it’s a safe bet that I have only good things to say about him and his penis.

2. Kissing

My friends and I do talk about kissing.  If my experiences and conversations are anything to go by, the positve assessment of a kiss  (especially a first kiss) is directly proportional to how smitten one is. A text-book pefect embrace that’s tender, yet confident may illicit nothing more than a regretful “It was a good kiss but…” followed by a string of rationalizations that really mean I’m just not that into him.

Meanwhile, a sloppy smooch from an object of my affection has always meant jubilant announcements to friends, well-wishes and random strangers on the bus that “OH MY GOD! HE KISSED ME!”. Every moment preceeding and proceeding the kiss must be relived in nuanced detail and celebra – yes, I understand this is your bus stop, ma’am. But HE KISSED ME!

The Moves

My friends and I do talk about moves. A LOT. We walk about what we enjoy and we we don’t as well as the tactile likes and dislikes of our various partners

What’s interesting, however is that in all the years that I’ve been jawing about the specifics of touching, caressing, fondling, spanking, biting, scratching, thrusting, licking, sucking and positioning –  I cannot remember a single instance of someone saying, “I was with this person and they just had this awesome move and that gave me galatic orgasms! And I didn’t even have to ask!”

This is not to say that no one has ever that experience. But I suspect it’s rare. The conversations I have are more along the lines of “I had to show my partner that I like my clit touched this way” or “When he came, he wanted me to hold his balls like that.”  It’s taught me that for most people, good partnered sex is less about innate skill and more about getting guidance from the other people involved.

Married Love, Life and Sex

There are aspects of my married sex life I’m comfortable discussing, but others I’m more reluctant to share.  I have no problem telling someone what type of sex I enjoy or dishing about some kinky conjugal adventure The Man of Mans and I have shared. I’m proud that after 16 years together, we’re still into one another.

I’m less forthcoming about the fact that we don’t always have a lot of sex. I think I’m a little self-conscious because lack of sex is one of those horrible stereotypes that persist in our society about marriage inevitably devolves into passionless monotony. The Man of Mans is the great love of my life. I still feel great passion for him, but the truth that I don’t often share is that sometimes parenting, fatigue or the effect of my anxiety/depression get in the way of sexy times.

Everyone is included

This isn’t about what I talk about when discussing sex, but rather who I discuss sex with.  I don’t tend to segregate my friends based on gender, which means that I’m not only having these conversations with my girlfriends but with all sort of folks in my life.

The original question clearly demonstrates that women are not the only people who are curious about sex – not only the act itself but what other people think and feel about it.It’s a fascinating topic and one that many people want to be able to chat about. So I will chat about it with virtually anyone who’s willing to join me in the conversation.  Which is exactly why I love answering questions like these!

Do you talk about sex with your friends? Which topics do you discuss? Do you prefer to talk shop with friends of the same gender or are you an equal-opportunity smut sharer? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, or drop me an e-mail if you have a query of your own!

Hooray/Haroo: Road Trip Edition (with bonus lingerie poll)

Hooray!

I’ve spent the past few days hanging with my favourite Torontonian-Turned-Jersey-Girl, Lisa. It’s been a wonderful  drinking wine, playing with her babies and making the most of cross-border shopping opportunities and this brief change of pace has given my batteries a much need recharge.  Today I head home and I’m eager to get back to the hectic pace of work, love and life in Ottawa.

Haroo!

Prior to this trip, I hadn’t seen Lisa (or her partner, who is also an old friend) in many years. Reconnecting has been great, but it’s also made me realize how much I’ve missed them. Saying good-bye is definitely bumming me out. As I make the long drive home, I hope it won’t be nearly as long until I see them again.

SexyPoll!

BTW lingerie lovers, Lisa happened upon this site yesterday: Bare Necessities. It’s an online bra and lingerie store with what seem to be reasonable prices and a healthy stock of hard to find sizes.  While browsing the site, we observed that when it comes to intimate apparel, people seem to fall into two categories: those who get turned on by garters and lace and those who love things au naturel. Methinks this call for further research. Time for a SexyPoll!

Which do you find sexier?

1. Lingerie.
2. Nudity.
3. Something else entirely.

The comment section is open, so cast your vote!

Fashion Friday

This week I feel sexy (and pretty) in…

Sweater: Ann Taylor LOFT. Skirt: The Gap. Tights: Sock Dreams. Shoes:Pierre Michel (thrifted)

…pink!

I adore wearing pink. It’s cheery, whimsical and fun – the sartorial equivalent of eating candy!

When it comes to shopping, pink is my black. I know it will work. Pink serves my preference for dressing in colour and the entire spectrum from pale blush to in-your-face fuschia works well with my skin tone. When in doubt I pick pink.

Dress: H&M. Tights: Roots. Boots: Dr. Scholls

I got the idea to pair this dress with boots last summer when Sterling and I spotted another woman rockin’ this same frock with a pair of smart cowboy boots.

The woman worked in a hair salon directly across the road from the patio where Sterling and I were hanging. Girlfriend was stone foxy! We lingered over our icy drinks for quite awhile so we could scope out her hair cutting action and her smokin’ pink style.  Months later,  I feel fetching just knowing I’m in a similar get up.

Dress: Express. Shoes: Feet First. Bag: Old Navy

I’m a Canadian gal with some deeply rooted island heritage.  In Canada nature is represented by the colour green. In the places where my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents were born, the natural world is a technicolour assault of vibrant hues and hot pink is everywhere.

It’s probably no coincidence that when I wear hot pink I feel vital, comfortable and content in my own skin.

 

I went ga-ga for these argyle tights the moment I saw them on Sock Dream’s website. But despite my deep and abiding love, they actually present a bit of a styling challenge for me.  This is one of only two successful outfits I’ve been able to assemble around these preppy lovelies.

I would like to wear them more, so if those of you with an eye for style have any suggestions I would love some imput, so please comment!

 

 

Fashion Friday

This week I feel sexy in…

Hoodie: Old Navy. T-shirt: Aritzia (thrifted). Skirt: Land's End. Tights: Roots. Shoes: Aldo (thirfted). Initial pendant (gifted from Stephanie).

…stripes!

When it comes to pattern, I’m a big fan of geometrics in general and I have had a long, enduring attraction to stripes in particular.

I have what some would describe as a “feminine” style. I wear a lot of dresses, skirts and body conscious silhouettes. Very occasionally I’ll go for hardcore hardcore girlish and opt for florals, but more often I like a crisp, cleans stripe to inject some balance and keep my looks out of twee territory.

Plus, all sorts of sexy people wear stripes: Yatching tycoons! Candy stripers! Field hockey goalies!

Jacket: RW & Co. T-shirt: Threadless. Skirt: Sandra Angelozzi (thirfted). Shoes: John Fluevog.

If I’m wearing stripes on my bottom half, I often (but don’t always) opt for pieces with narrow, vertical lines, like the pinstripes on this skirt. I’m slender with an hourglass shape. Large and/or horizontal stripes on the bottom maginfy my hips and my butt, which already the widest part of my body.

Like I said. I don’t *always* go for the skinny-mini stripes. Sometimes girl wants to show off that badonkadonk!  Am I right?

Sweater and jeans: Old Navy. Boots: Miz Mooz. Hat: Clearance bin at Edleweiss Ski Resort.

Once I had a wardrobe consultation with Jes Lacasse. When she saw the number of lined garments in my closet, she suggested I take a break from buying stripes for awhile.

I tried. But a few weeks later I saw the sweater picture above. I thought, ‘It’s okay. I can handle. After all, it’s just a striped heart…that doesn’t even really count.’ But I was in denial. The sweater was a gateway stripe. I have purchased many, many, MANY striped items since. I’m unlikely to stop anytime soon. Sorry, Jes.

Now that the sun is out later than 3 p.m. We’re back to the outdoor shots. The light in our house really isn’t awesome for iPhotos, so I’m happy to have some clearer pictures. I’ll be happier still when spring arrives with some warmer temperatures!

Baby, it's COLD outside!