Desperately clinging to the beautiful dregs of summer, I fled the office in a foul flurry, to rejuvenate and recuperate in the warmth of the slowly dying sun. Much to the dismay and discomfort of myself and my colleagues, the air conditioning units in our office building have been frenetic at best as of late, so I was thankful to discard my black professional slacks for a cool cotton skirt and simple sleeveless shirt. Glistening a feminine sweat as I walked, strode, I am still in denial that autumnal months and the chills of certainty, of onward marching time, are inevitably near.
My vintage yellow and clear frame cat-eye sunglasses do not seem to make it out from drawer much, which is a shame, for they are a darling shape. The earrings, large and silver Aztec-like arrows, with prominent rhinestone embellishment, were another compensatory and ultimately wonderfully necessary purchase from my weekend consignment splurge. In a way, they remind me of something Cher would wear as a bathing suit.
Though I typically prefer pencil skirts, a fuller, almost a-line cut is great for a casual outing; this particular skirt is yet another ubiquitous American Apparel piece, which I own in an army of tones. It doubles as a strapless dress, when the mood is right.
Subtle striping of gray and white crosses this plain tee shirt, also from American Apparel, which, again, and not surprisingly, doubles as a dress. Interchangeable and versatile, those purportedly vertically produced items.
Since the shirt and skirt were such basic staples, white and black, I had to infuse a bold color into the look with my shoes, hot magenta patent leather wedge sandals, thrifted from a consignment shop down south in Richmond. I believe they were priced in the range of 5$, which is quite a steal, especially for such a ridiculous color.
This plastic white bubble studded purse has been in my wardrobe for a few years now; a vintage handbag from the 1960s, it is a favorite for its whimsical, inventive structure, and simple elegance, but does not seem to be used as much as it should. I suppose this is the plight of owning enough vintage purses to bombard and possibly destroy a small, economically underdeveloped and resource limited village.
A number of my favorite pieces of jewelry are remnants from my grandmother's collection; the silver and black bangle is a bizarre piece, both polished yet uncouth and primitive. I cannot imagine her wearing this, however, she unfortunately passed away before I had the opportunity to understand her personality as a person, as a woman. Though it pains me to dwell, I cannot help but wonder upon the secrets, as a lover and beloved, a wife, an artist, a mother, dissipated to the earth, impossible to glean from vicarious relations.
This silver bracelet, layers of small ball bearing beads with an intricate centipede spine, was another gift from the filmmaker; it is not a piece that I would have necessarily selected for myself, but it draws my eye and is quite interesting. Receiving gifts that both surprise me and induce a new obsession, such as this, is such a treasure.
Perturbed and in need of sustenance, I was waiting as patiently as possible for my nostalgia-tinged dish of chicken fingers and curly fries, from a local Irish pub with a great outdoor patio.