(amazing comes from the sart)
“Saved, rescued, fished-up, half-drowned, out of the deep dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it . Except, or course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something.”
highlighted during a jfk to phoenix flight.
(good morning, midnight by jean rhys)
postings to resume shortly.
(be still my college thesis…photos from here)
(photo of denise levertov; from here)
There’s in my mind a woman
of innocence, unadorned but
fair-featured and smelling of
apples or grass. She wears
a utopian smock or shift, her hair
is light brown and smooth, and she
is kind and very clean without
but she has
And there’s a
turbulent moon-ridden girl
or old woman, or both,
dressed in opals and rags, feathers
and torn taffeta,
who knows strange songs
but she is not kind.
(poem by denise levertov)
if it wasn’t 100+ degrees i’d wear this outfit everyday.
in other words, minus the tights, this is already my staple look:
(floria sigismondi who does over 30 colored tights nicely)
i’ve been sitting on my anger for almost a week now. i came across this post about how women over 30 shouldn’t wear colored tights. so in discussing this with a gal pal, she suggested that i purge and set the frustration free.
so here goes. it begins with an interesting sidekick to ageism:
Jeunism is the tendency to prefer young people over older people. This includes political candidacies, commercial functions, and cultural settings where the supposed greater vitality and/or physical beauty of youth is more appreciated than the supposed greater moral and/or intellectual rigor of adulthood.
having spent several years faithfully reading fashion blogs and the viewpoints of other fashion gals who are nearly 10 years younger than me i’ve come to the conclusion that because i’m 33 i’m ancient, a dinosaur, a fire breathing anklyosaurus with a penchant for making one faux pas mistake after the another.
but do i care?
a quirky fashion sense has saved me from several premature suicides. disco inferno outfits detered ruthless catty remarks said behind the back during those teenage years (after all, if they were going to chop me down let it begin with platform shoes and a gold lame party dress!). being a fashion outcast opened the world up to a cast of characters who lived on the outskirts of town, the ones who screamed “let it be tacky, or nothing at all!”
so yeah, our clothes were tacky. we mismatched. we raved. we listened to depeche mode as we drove around town in a 1967 VW bug. some of us did grunge better than courtney love. others coined the mod look, which later became a hot topics’ “goth” thing. and boho chic? we were doing it in 1993.
so do i take offense when a youngster tries to tell us wise old fashion vertebrates what we should or shouldn’t wear? Hell yes! we were the ones who started the trends you are now biting, the neon color combinations that make you look so street cool, and “hey dj girl with the high waisted acid washed jeans, vest and debbie gibson hat” your high fashion look wasn’t dreamed up yesterday.
you see, we were puffy painting and wearing colored tights long before you were ever born. and after 20 years of experience, we know a thing or two about layering socks with doc martens, pairing leopard print footless tights with a jean miniskirt, and better yet, how to wear striped stockings with a floral print dress. in fact, i’m convinced a tacky minstrel from my youth is the she-man behind the curtain churning out these regurgitated trends you are now coveting.
so in conclusion to my very indulgent, therapeutic fashion rant, i invite all 30, 40, 50 and 60 year olds to go hog wild and dress in all the glitter, mismatched splendor and colored tights that your heart desires.
we love life on the other side of the railroad track and always welcome the company.