Any and every time that I have to pack I will undoubtedly get anxious at the fact of tucking away clothes I’ll just need to wear in the following few days — or worse on travel day. The horror. And with my move to Toronto looming — just a week now, yehaw — I’ve begun the obligatory task of packing and feeling anxious, one that has not lessened over the years of my student induced moves. Today is the beginning of using this next week to help decide what essentials make the coveted trip with me and which I shun into darkness.
Putting aside the fact that I look grossly tired in this picture — solid colors on solid pieces of clothing. Just recently I wrote about the graphic tee, which I scarcely wear, but enjoy when I do — usually I opt for plain things and rely on fit more than print. The tee I’m wearing above, is the viscose tee from American Apparel and one I’ve grown to love — there’s 4 more to prove it. I now affectionately call them my droopy tees. I think they give off a certain I-tried-but-not-too-hard sentiment and they handle my affinity with stretching clothes quite well.
As for the rest of my attire, I think I speak for the masses when I say fuck yeah denim cuttoffs and/or cardigans and/or Toms and mewelry, no or, because let’s be serious.
Linksters: American Apparel viscose tee. American Apparel cardigan. Denim cuttoffs. Toms. Thrift mewelry.
Transition denim[ing] is the act of wearing denim that, sartorially speaking, used to be something else. Case in point, today I’m wearing denim shorts that used to be pants, voila – transition denim. There are other types though, OBbvVIooUSsly, like the classically butch cutoff denim jacket, that’s now a slightly more breezy vest or the farmer-espue denim overalls that, once transitioned to meet you summer wardrobe kneeds, are oversomes (so much pun, so little time). Pair that transition denim with a loose fitting plaid and you’ve got yourself a look that screams I made half this thing myself only using scissors and I’d do it again.
Thrifted plaid. Ancient denim cutoffs. Toms. There aren’t many links floating around today, sorry folks – it’s up to you, your imagination and closet to figure this one out.
A few posts ago I wrote about the consummation between the laziness of my shirt and the season of Spring, the odd but very happily paired couple have since left the picture. In their figurative marriage now resides a hat and seemingly on-the-cusp of Summer weather. Today, we hit some seasonal high temps, and I’ll be the first to admit I thought: straw hat and your grandfather’s shirt – what better way to celebrate, cherish, and pay full respect to such great weather than to wear a processed grass hat – the Cheez Whiz of straw hats if you will and a shirt passed down through the generations. And in case that isn’t enough maritime bohemian chic for you, I threw in some mewelry and espadrilles – namaste.
Grandpa’s plaid (for realz). Plain white t. H&M jeans. H&M hat. Toms. Urban Outfitter mewelry. American Apparel watch. Keepin’ it simple.