Before my seclusion, I bought a few things for spring and summer. I am pleased to have them, but now feel both taunted and rebuked when I see them in my closet. They force an existential question: If there is no one to see you, is there a point to getting dressed up?
My Inner Havisham says, “Yes! Put on your wedding dress!”*
But my rational self says, “Nooo.”
Nevertheless, I put on this spring jacket and had The Photographer take a few photos for you.
At the outset, I must acknowledge that this jacket may be outerwear and not an indoor Smart Jacket. But I think it’s so charming that I plan to wear it indoors.
It’s made of a crisp, swishy ripstop fabric that is slightly transparent.
I like the transparency. I thought it would be very effective with a vivid, printed blouse underneath it.
The transparency is less obvious through the chest, which is padded. I am sure the manufacturer, if consulted, would say, “It’s not padded, Havisham. It has a quilted lining for warmth because it’s supposed to be worn outdoors.” But I like my interpretation.
What other evidence do we have of the manufacturer’s intent?
Some might say the rain shield is indicative of an intent to be worn in the rain. However, one could plausibly argue that trench-styling is used in women’s clothes — e.g., dresses — literally. Why not this jacket?
Often, one cannot tell how something will fall (fall, not fit) without trying it on.
This jacket was a delightful surprise. The cinched waist creates a kicky peplum in the back, which keeps it shape but is not bulky.
The fabric makes crinkle-swishy sounds. To borrow from Amy, it’s “fast” fabric.
At some point, the jacket will need minor adjustments. This belt is too long and the belt loops are set a little low for me. I can remove the loops m’self, but shortening the belt will be a professional job.
The sleeves are also a bit too long. But that can wait, too.
Some of you have previously told me that you find the “voice” of this blog soothing. While at home, I’ve been reading a book on antiques that is written in a soothing voice. The author says ridiculous things, but in such a measured, direct way, that I find it very restful to read. Here is a sample, from a section titled “Tables”: A dining table, for example, is a major and pretty basic item of furniture, and no matter how expensive, it is in essence simply a long surface that dominates any room in which it stands. It will be used for meals, obviously, and also perhaps for working at, but unless it is very fine or beautiful, it will probably look better, when not in use, to have something or things sitting on it that distract the eye from one undiluted expanse of wood. On the one hand, I am dying when I read this. On the other hand, so true! And it just washes right over me. It’s like having the shampoo rinsed from my hair at the salon while listening to a metronome. Very soothing.**
What do you reach for when you want a comfort read? Is it a story, or a voice?
Jacket: A.D.D. from YOOX; Blouse: Dondup (previously seen here) Pants: Prana; Bag: Humawaca; Shoes: JCrew
* I did try on my wedding dress last week because . . . at loose ends. And then I wondered why I kept it, because I will never wear it again.
** The author wrote several books, including “Curtains” and “The Curtain Book.” The Photographer cannot believe that one person could produce two books on curtains or that a publisher would allow the author to use those titles.
You posted this as I was reading “Masked” (which, when I began reading it, was the most recent post on the blog), and it is 10:30 here (thus 1:30 a.m. there) so you must be pulling back-to-back shifts as lawyer/style-whisperer. Your dedication is not unnoticed or unappreciated! Nor is your delightful yellow bag.
Rob has many books about furniture, especially hand-tooled, and receives woodworking magazines with articles lamenting/warning against such things as such as “Ugly Chunky Legs”. Not soothing at all; may I borrow one of those curtain books?
My top comfort read: The Tontine, by Thomas R. Costain. Great story, great voice. Long enough to get lost in, but moves at a slow pace. Benevolent.
How are you feeling about your long hair? I love it!
Thank you, Nicky? I sort of like it and I think I will leave it a little longer for awhile (even once I can return to my stylist), but it’s also driving me crazy. It is constantly changing and very unpredictable — within a single day, it will look fine (nice, even), awful, huge, curly, brillo pad-like, and then smooth. I fear that it cannot be controlled.
Oooh, “my inner Havisham” is an image I’m going to carry around in my mind for a long, long time. And it’s definitely a blog I’d follow — imagine how fun!
I pull Jane Austen up on my phone – any of hers – and lull myself into calm.
I dig the Spring jacket! And I like this bag – even more than the blue/green one…
You should save your wedding dress. I wore mine one Halloween and my old man wore his tux: we were Zombie Bride and Groom.
Thanks for posting! It’s nice to have a little something fun to read in these pandemic evenings. For a soothing read, I actually love Moby Dick. Ishmael is a good friend.
He tasks me. He tasks me.
I am reading lots of murder mystery novels, which are soothing on the grounds that things could be far worse than self-isolation and the investigation always has a resolved ending.
As for the wedding dress, I can easily imagine Directrice Industries Ltd. finding something terribly creative and inspiring to do with it. Shorten to a top? Transform into a pinafore? Cinch into a single-sleeved waistcoat? The possibilities are endless…