Outfit for a Thursday: Silver Stacks

When I was young and first began wearing jewelry, I refused to don any gold metal; in my ignorance and general myopia, I associated gold with old, mature women, namely my mother, grandmother, and various great-aunts, and insisted on silver. My first pieces of jewelry that I wore fervently and religiously were a silver spoon ring, gifted to me by my mother, a relic from her own childhood in Cincinnati, and a long dream catcher necklace. The dream catcher, a cheap replica of Native American aesthetics that was popular in that moment, broke, likely while romping around and climbing like a monkey on my wooden playground. My spoon ring, which fascinated me, with its intricacies and its age, its history, its lineage, its relation to my mother as a little girl, someone foreign and amazing to me, thankfully garnered more respect and care. I was vigilant about its safety. It was the only item in my wardrobe, clothing or accessory, that really carried meaning and that I protected. Despite my reckless and boisterous tomboy proclivities, my various misadventures, I never lost it. I continue to wear it today; it is on my left-hand ring finger now, as I type.

Eventually, during my later school years, I came around to gold tones, reconciled my initial dismissal, and wore silver less and less. Now, gold metals prevail in my jewelry boxes, so I often overlook my first love, silver. Last week, I proverbially dusted off these two silver cuff bracelets, both from my adolescence, and layered them with a newer sparkling rhinestone piece. The turquoise cuff is another heritage piece from my mother, a trinket discovered on a trip to Greece in her early twenties. While this beautiful and delicate bracelet has shamefully sat sallow in recent times, I am unwilling to relinquish the piece to my mother, who occasionally asks about its whereabouts. Sneaky.

The white with black paint splatters tee shirt was a recent purchase from Uniqlo. After some wine and some World Cup unwinding with a colleague, we trekked over to peruse the affordable wares. Lately, I am not drawn to graphics on my basic tee shirts, they often seem juvenile and are a look that I have mostly evolved beyond. The MoMA-inspired designs of the current Uniqlo line offer a more refined and visually compelling alternative to some of the typical large, popular-image tees that are also floating around. For whatever reason, probably the intense 1990s aesthetic revival that is permeating fashion at the moment, those over-sized tees emblazoned with cartoon characters, like the Tasmanian Devil and Tweety Bird, have resurfaced. Still goofy, and since I am no longer in elementary school, I can easily abstain. This paint design is whimsical, but mature.