Outfit for a Monday: Wilma Flintstone Meets Joan Holloway

(image taken from Pencil Skirts and Pearls)

(image taken from Know Your Money)

Much to the dismay of the filmmaker, I rarely draw aesthetic inspiration from cartoon characters, at least not intentionally; secretarial fashion from a bygone era, however, is another story. On Monday, I decided to display a new necklace of multiple strand pearls, a cascading multitude of spherical opaque opulescence in a white cream. The heavy weight appearance of this large piece is reminiscent of the almost primordial decoration of a certain Madame Flintstone. To complement this bodacious beading, I wore a simple yet professionally elegant white wrap blouse, which clasps with a silver intertwining accent. The sweeping gather of fabric accentuates the feminine curves of the gentler sex, exuded more prominently by some, myself included. For the bottom, a larger tessellating houndstooth pattern pencil skirt, which, while certainly fitted, would definitely by put to shame by a certain noticeably luscious Mad Men vixen.




Many of my button-down blouses are a bit too square for my liking, literally, not figuratively; while getting them tailored is the obvious solution, it does not always manage to happen, so, complaining and griping is the next best option. In this case, the embellished wrap front not only highlights the waist and hips of the form, it is softer and less austere than the traditional stiff buttoned up look.



Five strands of pearls is definitely ideal; anything less, I am less willing to entertain. I had been searching for this type of heavy pearl necklace for ages. There always seems to be some similar piece at stores like J. Crew, but they also always seem a bit contrived, a bit expensive for a hackneyed approach. The other weekend in Lambertsville, I found just my wish, for a price that seemed much more reasonable, especially once I discovered the meticulous detailing that truly makes this a unique find.


Darling buttons on the sleeves of my blouse, obscured by the brilliance of white and by the seemingly perpetual juvenile approach of my photography.


I can throw these earrings on with pretty much every article of clothing I own; the precise matching of specific pieces of jewelry is, generally, too much of a harkening to the days when first wave feminism was just plain feminism, but, on occasion, depending on circumstance and environment, I indulge. In this case, wearing white and black, the added ornamentation was not an ordeal. Hopefully, after wave and wave, I can continue to exert any and all freedom with my body and may pair the pearls with pearls.


The clasping hook for my new, to me, pearl necklace features an array of small sparkling rhinestones. This type of acute attention to design is rare these days, from the pantheon of fabricated consumerist glory, led by the likes of J. Crew and Banana Republic, deities of need and exchange to whom I have paid homage, and probably will again. It is these minor details that can make the crusade worthwhile.