Aspiring Fashionista
Generally speaking, I am a jeans and t-shirts sort of a girl. Or pajamas (pyjamas?). Really comfy lounging about pjs. But every once in a while I experience bouts of girliness, and it's not just the urge to dress like a girl. It's the urge to dress like a *fashionable* girl. I have a severe weakness for extremely girly shoes, although my feet strngly prefer that I wear sneakers or clogs with no heel, and I usually oblige them.
Women's fashion does not make a lot of sense to me. It's more expensive, less well made, and doesn't get marked down as deeply or as often as men's fashion. Sizes make no sense either. Take a size 6, for example. Six what? What is being quantified with this number? Men get waist and inseam and sleeve length and neck measurments, and usually there isn't a whole lot of variation. I have items in my closet that are a size 2 and items that are a size 12.
Then there are the problems that are specific to me which make it difficult to find women's clothing that actually fits me. The top half of me is significantly larger than the bottom half, so it is difficult to find a dress that fits. If it fits in the hips, chances are that I can't get it zipped past the bottom of my rib cage. Pants are always too long. Even before the notion of wearing giant shoes with everything became popular, pants were too long. I bought a pair of jeans the other day (for $15 because I'm all about the clearance sales) which declared themselves to be a siz 4 ANK, meaning size four with an inseam that should reach the ankles. They reach beyond my ankles and past my heels. But they are comfortable, despite being girl jeans.
Nor am I curvy enough for women's pants most of the time. Depending on how you look at it, either my waist doesn't go in enough, or my hips don't go out enough. Part of that has to do with a need for some exercise to reduce the midsection a bit, but even when I was thinner, women's pants that fit in the hips were always uncomfortably tight in the waist. The slight lowering of the waist line was a godsend for me. I don't like pants to be too low because then I fear that they will simply fall off because I don't have the hips to hold them up, but about an inch below my belly button usually fits pretty well. It is my understanding, however, that waistlines are going back up again, so I need to stock up while I can. On the bright side, I should be able to find some fabulous deals!
When it comes to shirts, espcially those that button all the way up or down (depending on what part of the country you are from), it's all about those first buttons below the neckline. Often the shirt fits otherwise (except that the sleeves are too long because my arms suffer the same deficiency as my legs--the only thing long about me is my fingers, which, along with my small hands, just makes it difficult to find a pair of gloves that fits properly), but those buttons are under undue strain. On the other hand, if the buttons are safe, the rest of the shirt looks baggy.
The inspriation for this rant is a book I started reading on Monday and have almost finished--Target Underwear and a Vera Wang Gown by Adena Halpern. I noticed the book while I was looking for Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabath Gilbert. The title amused me, so I started reading the introduction. I have kept a number of articles of clothing because of their sentimental value, and Halpern's wish that she could have a closet for the articles of clothing which have had the most meaning in her life spoke to me clearly, so despite the fact that, being a new release, the book is still in hardcover--and I really have no business spending money on books at all (much less brand new hardcovers)--it came home with me.
Since fashion changes so frequently and every time period--these days usually broken down into decades--has a distinct look, I don't know how universal Halpern's book is. That is, I nod along with most everything she says because we are about the same age, so all of the fads she refers to are familiar to me. Someone ten years younger or ten years older probably wouldn't understand the reference to neon parachute pants. On the other hand, most women can identify with the teenage anguish of needing the current "must-have" item and the mortification of being the only one without it. Or the fabulous outfit that you bought just to make yourself feel good even though you will probably never have an occasion worthy of it, but when you are feeling down, you wear it around the house while chatting on the phone or paying bills or reading a book because it makes you feel better.
Women often have a very personal, intimate relationship with their wardrobes. Target Underwear and a Vera Wang Gown is about that relationship.
Women's fashion does not make a lot of sense to me. It's more expensive, less well made, and doesn't get marked down as deeply or as often as men's fashion. Sizes make no sense either. Take a size 6, for example. Six what? What is being quantified with this number? Men get waist and inseam and sleeve length and neck measurments, and usually there isn't a whole lot of variation. I have items in my closet that are a size 2 and items that are a size 12.
Then there are the problems that are specific to me which make it difficult to find women's clothing that actually fits me. The top half of me is significantly larger than the bottom half, so it is difficult to find a dress that fits. If it fits in the hips, chances are that I can't get it zipped past the bottom of my rib cage. Pants are always too long. Even before the notion of wearing giant shoes with everything became popular, pants were too long. I bought a pair of jeans the other day (for $15 because I'm all about the clearance sales) which declared themselves to be a siz 4 ANK, meaning size four with an inseam that should reach the ankles. They reach beyond my ankles and past my heels. But they are comfortable, despite being girl jeans.
Nor am I curvy enough for women's pants most of the time. Depending on how you look at it, either my waist doesn't go in enough, or my hips don't go out enough. Part of that has to do with a need for some exercise to reduce the midsection a bit, but even when I was thinner, women's pants that fit in the hips were always uncomfortably tight in the waist. The slight lowering of the waist line was a godsend for me. I don't like pants to be too low because then I fear that they will simply fall off because I don't have the hips to hold them up, but about an inch below my belly button usually fits pretty well. It is my understanding, however, that waistlines are going back up again, so I need to stock up while I can. On the bright side, I should be able to find some fabulous deals!
When it comes to shirts, espcially those that button all the way up or down (depending on what part of the country you are from), it's all about those first buttons below the neckline. Often the shirt fits otherwise (except that the sleeves are too long because my arms suffer the same deficiency as my legs--the only thing long about me is my fingers, which, along with my small hands, just makes it difficult to find a pair of gloves that fits properly), but those buttons are under undue strain. On the other hand, if the buttons are safe, the rest of the shirt looks baggy.
The inspriation for this rant is a book I started reading on Monday and have almost finished--Target Underwear and a Vera Wang Gown by Adena Halpern. I noticed the book while I was looking for Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabath Gilbert. The title amused me, so I started reading the introduction. I have kept a number of articles of clothing because of their sentimental value, and Halpern's wish that she could have a closet for the articles of clothing which have had the most meaning in her life spoke to me clearly, so despite the fact that, being a new release, the book is still in hardcover--and I really have no business spending money on books at all (much less brand new hardcovers)--it came home with me.
Since fashion changes so frequently and every time period--these days usually broken down into decades--has a distinct look, I don't know how universal Halpern's book is. That is, I nod along with most everything she says because we are about the same age, so all of the fads she refers to are familiar to me. Someone ten years younger or ten years older probably wouldn't understand the reference to neon parachute pants. On the other hand, most women can identify with the teenage anguish of needing the current "must-have" item and the mortification of being the only one without it. Or the fabulous outfit that you bought just to make yourself feel good even though you will probably never have an occasion worthy of it, but when you are feeling down, you wear it around the house while chatting on the phone or paying bills or reading a book because it makes you feel better.
Women often have a very personal, intimate relationship with their wardrobes. Target Underwear and a Vera Wang Gown is about that relationship.
posted by minervasowl at 9:20 AM
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