Wardrobe Diaries: Style Swap
Photo Credit: Perry Hagopian
Michelle, Day 4
I head to Cornelia Day Spa. Its all about relaxing here, right? Wrong. A fashion-insider hot spot, everyone is secretly judging shoes and bags peeking out of robes. My manicurist asks me if I am still in school. Perplexed, I tell her I am 27. She laughs and exclaims I look no older than 16! I am convinced the culprit is my simplistic outfit and uncomfortable slouching.
On my way to a movie date I consider hijacking every bag, shoe, and bangle I pass. I remember Julia mentioning that sometimes she spices things up with a fabric headband, but I cannot locate it in the bag she packed for me.
Later, on the train, I sit next to two adorable boys: one is in skinny jeans and what I think to be Yohji Yamamoto shoes. I want to compliment him, but suddenly I am overcome with the fear they will assume I am mocking them. This is what average people do when they are afraid of fashion. They brazenly point things out that they do not understand. For example, NICE HAT, did you make it yourself? I say nothing.
I see the movie Waitress. Its true that movies are an escape from reality: I fell hard for Keri Russell's fab '80s wardrobe. Made a vow to find her Laura Ashley dress and navy Keds, and plan to soon rock prairie dresses like Chloë Sevigny's in Big Love.
Tomorrow I plan to wear my off-the-shoulder teal jumpsuit, Grecian sandals, and as many gold necklaces as I can put on without choking myself. Even if my fashion-above-all philosophy is shallow and superficial, I'll die defending my right to it. And I can say with certainty that I'll never, ever again be shackled by pencil skirts. Unless, of course, Marc Jacobs puts them on the runway some season. Oh, fickle fashion.