Almost a year ago, last summer, I bought this simple, nearly shapeless tunic dress in Barcelona. Quite a few steps away from my typical style, I was immediately magnetized to it for a few reasons, partly because I had been wandering lonely, foreign streets, unable to speak Catalan, and saw the flash-boutique run by young French designers as an opportunity for some needed human contact and conversation. Unlike many other European cities, English seemed noticeably less prevalent in Barcelona; despite the flashy contemporary architecture, the dearth of sounds and sights in my native tongue lent a bygone era appeal, and isolation, to this old and rugged and beautiful city. Namely, though, I loved the bizarre pattern in muted neutral gray and black, like some crude abstraction of a dinosaur, drawn by a young child with a thick waxen crayon.
This belt was a gift from my dear friend Rebecca, swapped from her own wardrobe; sequins, unfortunately, are not always ideal, or appropriate, for daily attire, but I would be quite amiss if I could not regularly find occasion for something sparkling and bold.
As a finishing touch, my hair tied up high in a messy chignon, I wore these black chandelier earrings.