Wandering in Westfield

Saturday afternoon, the filmmaker and I went ambling through a nearby small town, Westfield, each of us itching to stretch our legs, even under the ominous gray sky. The pavement was wet with melted snow, streaked patterns of alternating light and dark grays; after the hurricane winds, a cold permeating and sinking deep into the earth and into our bones, the sky cracked and spilled down below. Despite the early flurries, I have not been prepared to relinquish my autumn wardrobe, my blazers not ready to be resigned in my closet for another stretch of months.  Copious amounts of wool and cashmere are surely in my future, but, I would like to defer for at least a bit.

Though a bit chilly, I wanted to wear a pair tailored shorts, made appropriate for winter with some dark navy tights; these shorts have a thin pinstripe pattern with ever subtle pleats. Paired with these sleek schoolgirl preppy shorts, I kept warm with a colorful plaid men's button down shirt from Ralph Lauren layered underneath a navy and white striped sweater. Because the more navy, the merrier, I donned my trusted velvet blazer, something so worn and true; I keep intending to replace this with another velvet blazer, as its starting to show its age, but there is something so comfortable and familiar I keep holding on. Just to keep a balance with all this blue, I painted on a bright red.

My vintage handbag collection rolls deep, so, claiming favorites is either impossible or a lie; still, I will emphatically repeat how much I love this bag from the 1950s, a monument to intricately tooled leather and to soft pony hair. Typically, I avoid vintage shopping in New York, steep prices and ravenous vintage-vultures scavenging through the gluttony for most awesome pieces enough to keep me away. Surprisingly, I found this handbag at an outdoor market in Chelsea a few years ago, for a mere 40$.

After a heavy and cheaply decadent late lunch at the local diner, where I indulged in an impressive pile of a cheese steak sandwich, we braved the hordes of frenetic patrons at Trader Joe's, a trying challenge that was ultimately worthwhile for the delicious budget wines. In my neighborhood, there is a truly impressive and personable local wine shop, which I frequent regularly; still, I love stocking up at Trader Joe's since the prices are a toss away from wholesale. 

My new Frye boots, though still needing some more wear and tear to break them in, have quickly become my easy staple; these older Frye heels are still easy and, with the caramel leather, the simple rustic hardware, complement nearly every autumn and winter outfit.

One of the beautiful things about playing with layers is the palette of textures, in this case of lazy and lackadaisical meandering, soft, softer, softest.