Can Sartorial Uniforms Work in the Winter?

... And be interesting? Let's find out.

Six months ago, if you can recall, I thought the concept of sartorial uniforms was, to put it lightly, absolute bullshit. Nothing angered me more than people, especially the type that cared about fashion, to take the easy route when it comes to style and clump their sartorial decisions in a uniform generator that stripped all free will. Was real style dead? Could even the most fashionable of people be incapable of using their own creativity to form their outfits, overall looks, or, more generally, personal style? Can personal style even be called personal anymore if it's only molded by others? The cynic in me asked myself these questions on a daily basis, as I reached into my closet and formed outfits completely on my own. Or so I thought. I realized soon after this style crisis that maybe, just maybe, all outfits we wear are some version of a style uniform (out of infinite style uniforms) that we have stored in our fashion memories, and sometimes we need to use this capsule more than other times, when we're feeling less creative. It happens to the best of us, really. And it's not necessarily a bad thing—not using others for style inspo or stating that you never have used a sartorial uniform is kind of like living in a style vacuum. Personal style is a social construct*, if you didn't know!

After I had determined that uniforms were not only okay, but an acceptable form of getting dressed that we will all, at some point or another, run into in our lives, I felt all those struggles associated with my fashion challenges dissolve, as I knew that I was not perfect. Whew. Glad we got that out of the way. But suddenly, fall semester came along and I started depending on these crutches a bit too much. It started with me wearing the same outfits I wore in the summer since a) my creativity to get dressed uniquely disappeared, b) I had zero time to even begin to think of new looks, and  c) it was still warm outside, so why not just repeat some award-winning looks? I thought things would change when the temps dropped, as this need to wear more clothing should result in my fashion creativity reviving, but I was wrong. The style uniform became my main method of getting dressed, especially when 55 degrees turned into 40, then 30. I'd slip on the same pair of jeans, rotate between three different sweaters, and typically finish the look with one of my two kinds of sneakers, of all the kinds of shoes in the world. Sneakers! I had truly given up. My lack of blogging this fall is proof that my fashion senses were just at an all-time-low. Although my New Year's Resolution is to get back into regular blogging, implying that sartorial uniforms should just cease to exist in my brain, I decided to end the year by reclaiming this term, proving that maybe, just maybe, even after months of looking like, to put it lightly, a piece of garbage, sartorial uniforms can work in the winter. 

Time for a test drive!

This feels interesting, right?

Jeans by Reformation. Sweater is vintage, bought from @courtyard_la. Jacket by Madewell (blue version here). Boots by Zara.

I had decided from day one of fall that I would solely wear pants during this season, and also well into winter. My days of tugging tights up my legs to only feel slightly warmer were long gone, so pants it is. Anyways, pants feel so in right now, or maybe they just feel very fitting with where my personal style is going, if I'm even allowed to say it exists anymore after this dreadful fall. After accepting that wearing pants was not off limits to get back into my top fashion game, things felt easier—pants were, in fact, an embedded part of my sartorial uniform for two seasons of the year. However, I told myself that I couldn't go back to the same pair I'd wear everyday for two weeks straight. Those worn out Levi's would not touch my body unless I was only trying to look bad (aka me all winter break). I would deem them equivalent to sweats, which was truly the only way to ween myself off of them. The no Levi's rule forced me to look for something else, maybe a pair that hardly imitated jeans but rather a really cool pair of pants that Emily Ratajkowski would wear. After months of pining for these beauts (that also clean 1,000 gallons of water after purchase, which applies to all Ref jeans!), my size came back in stock and I slipped these babies on the minute they were delivered. I felt my sense of style come rushing back to me in full force—I hate to use a new purchase to be the only thing to get me back on my feet, but in this case, I truly think these are what saved me. Thousands of 'fit ideas flooded my mind that were perfect for winter but also that transcended this season. I had never been more excited for an article of clothing since the summer!

To keep that uniform idea in mind, I paired them with the sweater I've been wearing twice a week for the past two months. This overuse made this magical (and vintage!) sweater lose its magic, but I felt that I could bring that magic back through the pants. And it worked! I layered my white denim jacket over it to make things more ~interesting~, as I said I would do in the beginning of this post, and instead of wearing the typical sneakers, I finished the look with brand spankin' new boots. You know that feeling you have when you get a new outfit and feel like you can rule the world? That's exactly how I felt. I had been able to reclaim this idea of sartorial uniforms to become something even greater than I had ever imagined.

So moral of the story: style uniforms are fun and games until you depend on them a bit too much, but it is possible to revive your style through the same method, especially when a new pair of Ref jeans is involved. My wearing habits with these bad boys is already turning into something unhealthy; will they lose its magic pretty soon? All we can do is wait and see, but in the meantime, it's comforting to know that I still got it.

*After my Philosophy of Race and Gender class, it's safe to say that almost all things are social constructs. Including style.

Photos shot by Kendall.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

Holiday Knits

It's like a sweater... but for your entire body!

Winter is approximately 13 days away! Time to start using the snowflake emoji in every Instagram caption, drinking a sickening amount of hot cocoa, and living in tissue turtlenecks and bulky sweaters. Sounds like a dream, if you ask me.

Unless that dream consists of below freezing temps. Count me out.

Unfortunately, I don't live in California or the Caribbean, where this thing I like to call winter weather magically does not occur, so I must face the freezing temps along with all my other East coasters. I used to love this weather a few years ago; it called for so many layering opportunities that just wouldn't be possible in any other season. Also, this was before I knew what cuffing season was. Oh, the glory days. Now, as I no longer have the privilege of being able to hop in my heated car to drive anywhere I please, winter has changed for me. The once inspiring dark skies are now depressing, the once beautiful snow is now annoying, and the creative layering opportunities are now just... hard. For the past month, I've been living in my old Levi's that are getting baggier by the minute and the same thick turtleneck I bought from my favorite vintage IG account that I've worn three times a week since I received it. I've even given up on shoes; my already too-worn Adidas are getting even more wear instead of all the statement boots that should be getting more wear but are nothing like the comfort of a pair of sneakers with too many memories to count. I've definitely hit a fashion rut. Should I blame winter, or is it really just my too-busy schedule that has prevented me from getting creative with my style? The latter reason is probably more accurate; I haven't even had time to blog more than three times this entire semester (which, by the way, will change next semester!). But instead, I'd rather blame winter. It's way easier.

So, what's the solution to stop wearing the same thing over and over again?

I could go the style uniform route and simply accept the fact that I'll wear the same thing over and over again this winter. Maybe make it more interesting, like with a blazer? These methods are too, well, easy. What's the point of being so into fashion if it's easy? That ruins the fun.

I remembered from earlier that all I want to do is wear sweaters the entire season. What if I took that idea a step further?

Jumpsuit and turtleneck by Madewell. Shoes by Sam Edelman. Sunglasses by Lisa Says Gah.

It seems as though designers have realized that not only I wish to be covered head to toe in sweaters all winter long, but that almost everyone would find this sensation more than appealing. Enter the knit jumpsuit: one part sweater, one part jumpsuit. Isn't that genius? I kind of felt like Gigi Hadid when she takes knitwear to the next level and only wears knits in a single outfit. Unlike Gigi, I don't have exuberant amounts of confidence and matching knits, but the jumpsuit made up for that. Instead of worrying about pulling together a matching sweater set, I just slipped on this bad boy over a simple turtleneck (also a knit!) and felt my winter dreams come true. Being fully immersed in a sweater is not just an experience, but one that feels too good to be true. Instead of wearing sweats and a raggedy sweater, just wear a sweater jumpsuit, and you'll get the exact same feeling. Plus a look that's too good to pass up!

As I said earlier, I was trying to find a styling method that actually stimulates my fashion sense and makes it a challenge, not just a routine that I follow every single day. Unfortunately, this was definitely too easy to accomplish, as it was a short, two step process of getting dressed that day. No zipper required. Yet this simplicity still resulted in something I haven't felt in a long time, a.k.a. a sense that my style is no longer in a rut, but is rather progressing into something even greater than I ever imagined. No one can stop me. Not even the winter blues.

Photos shot by Lucy.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

The Power of the Blazer

I swear these things have superpowers.

Just before the fall semester had begun, I began to notice a specific trend—styling structured blazers in non-professional ways. Were the 80's finally back after years of rejection? Was business professional trying to be back in style, sans the whole three-piece-set suit aspect (unless you're into that)? Or, maybe more answerable, is androgyny taking over the likes (and styles) of people who were once completely opposed to the term?

With (or without) these questions in mind, it has now become more than obvious that blazers are back in fashion. Maybe they're too back, if that's even possible. Zara has an infinite amount of them and even has their own sub-category for blazers apart from outerwear; they're on every single fashion blogger, street style star, influencer, and person who is somewhat interested in fashion on Instagram; and now they're on me! I've succumbed to trends. Someone call the police.

My search for a blazer was not rooted in Zara's massive collection or my desire to imitate Spanish blogger María Bernard, but it was rather a quest that began when I noticed the resurgence of the vintage blazer at small vintage shops in Manhattan and Brooklyn this summer. After no luck of finding one that both fit me and one that I fell in love with, I took to Instagram, as one normally would, and scanned every vintage IG page that existed. Months of turning on post notifications for one too many accounts and DMing at every potential opportunity, I had found myself a vintage, wool blazer, all the way from Paris! How romantic.

Blazer, Levi's jeans, and slides are vintage. Lace slip by Urban Outfitters. Sunglasses by Lisa Says Gah.


Upon getting this baby in the mail over two months ago, my entire outlook on life changed. Am I being a bit too dramatic? Probably, but my excitement began when my DM to one particular Instagram account resulted in them finding me a blazer that hadn't even been posted to their page yet. I felt more than special—they had a reserve of vintage pieces that were practically on hold for people, like me, who came to them who had specific items in mind. As I claimed the piece before it even went on sale to the public, I knew it would have transformative powers. And as I slipped it on over a graphic tee seconds after opening the package, the myth of the superpowers became a reality.

Once again, am I being too dramatic?

Important background info is that I've never worn a blazer in my life until this one, making my strong reaction to the item completely acceptable. I had always associated them with strict business dress codes that I never had to partake in, making the act of wearing a blazer not one I wanted to associate with. But now! I want to wear this bad boy
every
single
day.

Which I did the first week I had it, if I'm going to be completely honest.

Slip it on over a band tee and jeans and sneakers, and you immediately transform a lazy look into an effortlessly cool 'fit. Wear it with a lace slip, vintage Levi's, and slides to hold on to that last bit of summer but still show you're ready for winter (as seen on me in the above photos). Layer it over a rust turtleneck with heeled ankle boots, and you transform into a fall trends kween. Pair it with a hoodie and add a leather jacket over the blazer, and you just mastered the art of layering in two easy steps. The options are endless. Just do anything but what you would normally expect from a business staple, unless you want to own that look and go full-on CEO. Because that's also completely taking over the fashion world. Pantsuits are cool now! And maybe the beauty of the blazer lies in just that—even if you're not a CEO, you could easily look like one.

Fashion is transformative, remember?

Photos shot by Maddie.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

The Versatility of Vintage

Both an alliteration and a fun fashion hack!

One year ago, I was frightened by the word vintage. Thrifting, Goodwill, second-hand shopping, the whole shebang. Wait, what?? 

When I was a mere 18 year-old, first entering the pits of college and living in a city (D.C., if you didn't know) for the first time, the idea of buying clothing that had already been worn freaked me out. Coming from a suburb of North Atlanta, I only knew Goodwill, or the southern-suburban version of Goodwill, to be more exact. What a scary place! I didn't know that good vintage finds existed. Yes, suburban Goodwills are filled to the brim with good (and cheap) buys, but that required the right amount of time, a ton of energy, and a specific mood that consisted of being able to be open to anything. Way too many requirements, if you ask me.

But then I went to Seattle this March, and everything changed. I learned that the certain art of thrifting actually wasn't that difficult to master—you just have to be really open minded and be willing to wear pieces in different, at times unexpected, ways. These are the things you're taught your entire life if you're raised by thrifting pros, but I wasn't so lucky. My mom was so unknowledgeable on the subject of vintage fashion that she even got rid of most of her wardrobe from the '70s, '80s, and '90s, assuming it would be worthless now. After some short-term anger at this act, I realized I was being a hypocrite—I don't even like vintage clothing. Why would I be mad at her for depleting her closet that was a thrifter's dream when I didn't even own thrifted clothing myself?

So—back to Seattle. This city is filled to the brim with thrift stores that charge you at reasonable prices (unlike NYC) and usually have excellent finds, unlike the suburban stores I was used to. My first official thrifted piece of clothing was my pair of vintage Levi shorts (which will be showcased below!), presumably coming from the early '90s, that started from way above my belly-button, just how I liked them, but reached to the very top of my knee caps. An awkward length, if you ask me. So my first thrifting lesson was applied—always be ready to tailor your thrifted pieces. The scissors came out, and I cut them myself that very day, transforming them from '90s mom to trendy NY summer blogger. I finally felt like a real thrifter, then the purchases kept coming. One vintage coach purse for only $3 and one black silk bandana later, I finally hopped aboard the thrifting train.

Living in New York this summer changed everything, too. It was a whole different game there—thrift stores practically raided the East Village, Williamsburg, and Bushwick, but each borough brought out a different kind of thrifting. Manhattan's was far too overpriced but carried designer brands (from Acne to Alexander Wang) and those it-pieces that every editor and blogger were wearing on a day-to-day basis. Bushwick was fortunately the opposite—similar to Seattle with the pricing, but a bit more East coast than PNW. Williamsburg fell right in between, where many shops were overpriced but held more of an artist vibe than a fashionista's. This plethora of options upped my vintage game even further, opening my world view to other outlets, like buying vintage through Instagram (which is an excellent invention, by the way). The opportunities to buy used clothing are endless these days, making me love the concept even more, and I haven't even mentioned how sustainable it is!

Yes, it's obvious that you can buy vintage practically anywhere these days, but what about how we wear it?

Vintage Dress bought at Antoinette Vintage. Shoes by Urban Outfitters (similar here).

Above, you'll see me wearing a midi, almost maxi, vintage floral dress that slightly resembles a mix of cool grandma and Little House on the Prairie. How tf am I supposed to style this without looking like the aforementioned persona? I could wear it alone with slides and embrace this lewk, ooooor...

Shorts are vintage Levi's (remember the ones I talked about a few paragraphs ago?).

I could wear pants! I hope you all were thoroughly surprised by my big reveal. 

Almost exactly one year ago I wore a dress with jeans for the first time and I felt a bit funky, but in a cool, sartorial way, and now, 365(ish) days later I feel like I've mastered the art of this technique. It usually only works with button-down dresses (at least to my knowledge), pairing this with high-waited pants vs. low will most likely look better, and showing a tad bit of skin makes the combo even more interesting. However, my main point isn't how to style dresses in a ~kewler~ way, but how to style vintage in a non-traditional manner. Unbuttoning more than half of the Grandma-esque dress just transformed antique into edgy. Where's my that was easy button? Oh, also adding shorts in the mix makes it socially acceptable, but this step is not the key in my hypothesis. The key really only lies in the dress—it was designed to be worn fully-buttoned, but altering this construct and only buttoning six of what feels like a million can do so much. No scissors or stitches required! Reworking vintage doesn't only mean cutting the hem of those vintage jeans or fixing some broken seams; it could mean just wearing a piece in a way it's not designed to be worn. This is when it gets kind of freaky: aren't there technically an infinite amount of ways to wear something that differs from its intended manner? 

Another perk: wearing lengthy dresses this way makes you feel like you're wearing a sartorial cape, making you feel so much more powerful than a typical dress.

How do you rework your vintage pieces? Comment your thoughts below!

Photos shot by Brisa, back when I was living in NYC.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

I Finally Understand Sartorial Uniforms

My first time ever using uniform in the context of style!

Mostly because I used to think the concept of a uniform is complete bullshit. Why would you want to follow a strict formula for dressing yourself when instead you could wear whatever the hell you want? I like the latter option better. With my opinion disregarded, the term has been used when discussing fashion ever since people started writing about fashion. I always viewed it, both in writing and real-life, as a cop-out—in writing, it would be the easiest route to dissect someone's style, and in real-life, it would be the easiest route to get dressed in the morning. Here are some examples in the media that always pissed me off:

• Parisian style always being analyzed as uniform dressing by usually looking at style icons like Jeanne Damas and literally just... copying them 
• Writers stating that finding a style uniform is the smartest way of dressing, while it's truly just the easiest
• The concept that people who choose to dress in their own style uniform on the daily are the only ones who 100% understand their personal style, leaving out all of the personal style kweens who dress differently every day

And a whole. Lot. More. Just google "style uniform" and the results are endless. This isn't necessarily a critique of those publications, as all three of those are three of my favorite fashion websites. They're simply writing what their audiences want, as everyone and their mother seem to find the style uniform as the most groundbreaking thing since sliced bread. My love for them aside, I just couldn't agree with their statements. I always felt that the smartest way to dress is to do the opposite, and wear anything that feels right to you, sans all the uniform bullshit and fashion rules and overdone trends, etc etc etc. People like Leandra Medine enforced this in me, but then other people like Courtney Trop with her relaxed yet sophisticated LA signature look and Alyssa Coscarelli with her sartorial NYC look usually featuring classic bottoms (hello, Levi's) and super funky and usually vintage tops seem to have their shit together by (mostly) following the uniform route of dressing, and something sparked within me. 

Maybe I didn't entirely disagree with uniforms after all! Apart from the influencers I saw on IG that were killing it with their outfit recipes, I truly began to understand the concept when I saw many people in the CMG office this summer follow outfit recipes as well. One would base their outfits around their favorite pair of Levi's every single day, one would always show up in a thrifted midi dress with mules, and another would always have this sleek, London style, which varied upon outfits, but always consisted of her leather jacket and some form of slides. This might sound like stalking to some, but I'd rather call it "seeking outfit inspo," or more accurately, "outfit stalking." Then something within me clicked. 

You can have more than one style uniform! Who knew. 

And I don't mean just two or three or ten. I mean, like, an infinite amount of style uniforms. 

Only a select few have a single uniform and honestly, that's just boring. Ten can be boring, too. But in reality, in almost everyone's wardrobes, lies an infinite amount of uniforms. How mind-blowing is that! Before I get too tenth dimension on you all, I'm going to stop with all the infinite nonsense because even my brain doesn't know how to process that correctly. Instead, I'll approach it in this way: it's not about the number of uniforms you have, it's about how you approach your everyday look. I used to, and still do to an extent, approach my look by waking up, looking in my closet, and picking out what felt right. Easy as a slice of cherry pie, but also, what if you have no clue what feels right? Enter the uniform. 

Inside the tiny, or large, depending on who you are, sector of our brain that is reserved for all things personal style/self-expression is an infinite amount of style recipes. Reserved for those who aren't in the correct creative mind to pull an outfit out of literally nothing. We go running to that place when we need a crutch or need help from our imaginary fashion fairy god mother. It's like the more personal and private version of scrolling through Who What Wear or the style board on someone's Pinterest—it's not copying one's outfit, it's taking fashion schemas that we're already familiar with and remolding them to make them our own. For example, if I woke up one morning wanting to embody a nonchalant French girl who hates accessories and loves easy (but dressed-up) shoes, enter one style uniform: a statement midi + mules. Another example: if I woke up another morning being in a pants + t-shirt mood but really didn't feel like putting on jeans, enter a uniform consisting of a graphic tee and colorful trousers. And so on. Lately, especially this past summer in NYC, I've felt more of my outfits falling victim to being a sartorial uniform, which is almost necessary in a city where style is a requirement. Although I've left the city, I still feel the impact! So commence a style uniform I've just recently invented, perfect for those end-of-summer blues:

a. the jeans that are glued to my legs all summer (and fall and winter and spring), even in the hottest of days, because apparently I'm a jeans kind of gal now

b. a v minimal top, preferably one that is easy to tuck into above jeans and does not require a bra, but also anything that's way cooler than a plain white tee or tank

c. some kewl shoes!! ones that make those jeans POP

d. a layering piece that is my go-to jacket this summer and can be worn three ways: arms inside arm-holes, arms outside arm-holes, or tied around the waist

And voila. An outfit is formed. 

Jeans are vintage Levi's. Bodysuit by Reformation. Shoes by Creatures of Comfort (similar here). Jacket by Madewell.

I thought this would be a one-time ordeal after I bought these jeans, as I've never been a jeans person, well, ever. But the uniform concept really stuck! Ever since I copped these bad boys, I've worn them at least three times a week. Laundry has been happening more than it should be. There are many wonders of this new approach to dressing, or the sartorial uniform approach—you can do it in oh-so-many ways (imagine this instead with a cropped wrap top, a jean jacket the same shade as those pants, and grandma pumps!!), and it's only one of a katrillion style uniforms you have. You can wear the uniform more than once (which is what makes it a uniform, yes?), but you don't have to wear it every single day. Sounds like the best fashion compromise ever: when you're too lazy to actually produce an outfit with no help whatsoever, but don't want to be an outfit repeater, delve into your secret stash of uniforms that will always save the day. This one happens to be at the top of my list, as it's perfect for that transition into fall fashion when it's still hot outside. And it also is a friendly reminder that wearing the same piece more than once is actually a good thing. Why would you purchase something if you're only going to wear it a few times a year? 

So yes, after too much research, philosophical thinking, ranting, and even pulling evidence from my own sartorial decisions, I finally understand the style uniform. Do you finally get them, too? Or did everyone understand them all along, and it just took me this long?

Photos shot by Venesa.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

Prints Prints Prints!

To make summer even more fun than it already is.

I have always been an advocate of mixing prints, especially when Leandra Medine declared it cool and Alessandro Michele declared it high fashion. But if you look at what I wear, this statement clashes with my actual style. When have I ever mixed prints, especially when they're loud and clashing? Hell, when have I ever worn a loud print alone? The furthest I'll go is gingham or floral, yet those are still fairly soft.

And combining the two? Never.

But just like the OG Justin Bieber song, never say never, especially with style. Because it's constantly evolving. Six months ago, I would have never done double denim, but this summer, I even styled four looks and was featured in a video about it.

Do you love denim so much that you want to be covered in it from head to toe? I know I do. I love facing a fashion challenge, which in this case is working double (or sometimes triple) denim into an outfit. Watch my video to see how I styled four versions of the Canadian tux. — @fracturedaesthetic

A post shared by obsessee (@obsessee) on Jul 24, 2017 at 8:01am PDT

Watch above for proof that style can never be stable! Aka the inspiration for my blog title I made back when I was 16 and had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I guess I wasn't as incompetent as I thought, as this thought still drives almost all of my style decisions. Like the one I made for this 'fit you're about to see in a few seconds!

My preconceived notion that prints on prints, especially of the clashing type, could never work vanished into thin air when I purchased a print you would never see me wearing pre summer 2017. Are you dying to see what it is? Wait for it...

Dress is used Reformation (bought on eBay!). Bandana by Madewell. Mules by & Other Stories.

Leopard print, of all the prints in the world, is the last thing I would wear, my former self thought only one month ago. But now I'm covered in it! I've come to realize that when I purchase clothing of second-hand nature, these items are things I would never be caught dead buying if they weren't used or vintage. This is one of the many perks of thrifting, as it forces me to try new things, such as going for that oversized look or purchasing a dress that imitates an animal. Like wearing fur, but minus the unethical part. I found this gem when I was scrolling through one of my IG follower's sale on eBay, as one fashion 'grammer normally does, and I immediately started bidding once I noted that it was both super soft and from Reformation. And now she's mine! 

Originally when I was waiting for it in the mail and brainstorming styling methods, I assumed I would need to keep everything else lowkey as this print was already too loud for my style. Maybe with a bandana, but a solid color. Loud prints + more loud prints were just not in my vocabulary. But the minute I put it on, I fell in love and was already feeling a little risky, so I tied my gingham bandana around my neck in cowboy style, one I've never attempted before until this adventurous day. Animal print plus cowboy bandana? How untame of me!

What I love most about this combo is that the two prints are so vastly different—the leopard screams '80s, not necessarily in a good way, and the gingham is v '90s, but in the soft and nostalgic manner. But together, they create this perfect mess that is just too good to miss. A perk of mixing prints: you get an end product that is completely different from the two (or three, or four) beginning pieces. Like a style recipe! 

Photos shot by Brisa.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

Cherry Bomb

Great song, even greater fashion trend.

Who else agrees that fruit is a fabulous part of living on this planet? It's like a healthy desert. A splash of color to your breakfast routine. A necessity to any scoop of vanilla ice cream. An accidental lip stain. And now it's made its way into fashion! As told by Alutzarra circa 2016.

when life gives you lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A post shared by Natalie Geisel (@fracturedaesthetic) on Sep 16, 2016 at 4:04pm PDT

And now they're everywhere!! On bags, in the form of earrings, covering dresses (in many forms, like embroidery, painted on, even sequins), even being the dress (see here). What fruits are especially in right now, you might ask? Well, lemons, as told by Alutzarra, but also so much more! Watermelons have been replacing clutches, pineapples have infested the prints of dresses, and cherries have been the perfect embellishment to practically every item of clothing and accessory.

Ah, there we go. I've finally come to the much anticipated cherry.

What you've all been waiting for.

I have to admit that cherries are at the bottom of my list for favorite fruits to consume. The real ones are too difficult to eat because of its pits, and the fake ones are just... too fake. But in its other forms? Count. Me. In.

I first got hooked on cherries when I bought Glossier's Balm Dot Com in its infamous cherry flavor earlier this summer, adding to my collection of rose and birthday, which not only tastes like the best parts of a fresh piece of cherry pie, but also makes me look like I ate a whole bag of cherries with the slightly-red stain it gives my lips. Two birds with one stone!

This beauty obsession was a gateway into all things cherry. If my ears were pierced, I would already own three pairs of cherry earrings. I was obsessed (and still am, to be honest) with the Reformation cherry print that covered at least five of their styles two months ago. And finally, one day while shopping in the East Village, I found the dress of my dreams. Shown below!

Dress by Cloak & Dagger. Shoes (similar here) and Sunglasses by Madewell.

I had found literally everything I was searching for in a summer dress. Including a fruit, specifically cherries, in some way? Check. Have those cherries be embroidered? Check. All be in the form of an a-line mini dress that (not shown) ties in the back and exposes far too much skin, which is exactly what anyone would want during a hot summer day? Check. I had found the dress. I've already worn her about five times this past month! And I have a theory as to why it's so wearable: it can stand on its own, sans all the accessories you feel you have to wear in the summer to make up for the lack of clothing on your body. I would skip the shoes if I didn't have to walk on hot pavement, even. Yet, it doesn't need accessories not because it's almost too much (example a), like many spring/summer dresses, but because it's just enough—so simple adding any extra styling would ruin the summer lewk. And maybe it really is just the cherries—could you imagine wearing this dress in only white? I couldn't, either.

Wearing it will also scientifically make you want a slice of cherry pie, specifically that one from Twin Peaks that Agent Dale Cooper says will "kill ya." 

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

The Alternative Canadian Tux

Because who doesn't love a good denim on denim lewk?

In collaboration with Tobi.

I know for a fact that I could potentially be named the number one fan AND wearer of the Canadian tuxedo—I've been working this baby at least three times a week for the past month. I've been a fanatic of denim for the past, well, my entire life. I've talked about it on here at least five times. So it's finally time to take the leap! The leap into double denim, that is. In the past, I've only slightly experimented with a double denim look, only using subtle denim combinations, like chambray tops tied around my waist with a denim skirt or pairing black denim with blue denim. Now, I go full on Bob from Twin Peaks.

Reference pic above, if you have no idea what I'm talking about. PSA: I'm planning on going as him for Halloween this year. Get excited.

I'm not sure if I blame my love for Twin Peaks or my half-Canadian blood, but the double denim is going strong! I usually just do the typical jeans and jacket combo, but this time, I wanted to ~mix~ things up. Still paying tribute to my man Bob, but doing so in a bit of a different (and less creepy) way. 

Slip (worn as a top) by Tobi. Jeans and shirt by Madewell. Shoes by & Other Stories.

I kept the jeans that are usually the key player in these looks, but swapped the typical jacket for a denim slip dress from Tobi that I transformed into a top. Sort of sad that I had to hide the fringe hem on this dress due to my pants, so maybe another day I'll try another denim-denim look by stripping the pants and layering a denim jacket over my shoulders. However, these jeans have been glued to my legs all summer (they are called the Perfect Summer Jean...), so they're not leaving my body anytime soon, even if it is 90 degrees outside. I layered a white tee under the slip and tied a bandana around my wrist to add a few non-denim pieces to the denim party, but wouldn't it be interesting if it were a denim tee and a denim bandana? Too much? 

If you wanna get even crazier, you could add a jean jacket to finish the look. In my opinion, you can never wear too much denim. Justin and Britney prove that theory correct (maybe this will be my Halloween costume instead?). So go ahead, experiment away! If the big bad from the most iconic Lynchian dream sequence could pull it off, you can, too.

Special thanks to Tobi for the slip.

Photos shot by Venesa.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

I've Found the Color of the Season

Well, I've found about 10 colors for this season.

In collaboration with Tobi.

Marigold yellow being one of them. Also, is millennial pink still a thing? Oh, and don't forget white (it's summer!).

But have you guys ever thought about a dusty palette, consisting of a dusty rose, taupe, rust, maybe even a blush? Kind of like Glossier's cloudpaint in dusk, or any color that resembles the sunset. All following a warm palette, but not too warm—bright reds aren't included. It's kind of like turning the saturation down. Like a mute button for colors! Reformation has been on this trend with their blush hues, and I've also merely observed these shades on so many NYC dwellers.

Or maybe it's just me?

Even if it is, I really want these hues to officially appear in every window display. They might feel more fall, but that's where the fun of it lies—unexpected trends are so much better!

Do you remember how I mentioned white at the beginning of this post?

No? Then you must have a really bad memory. Hate to break it to you.

If you answered yes, then keep reading! White has always been a summer essential to me, as most people would agree. I'm even wearing a white linen mini as I type these words. So to style these dusty hues, I paired them with, you guessed it, white. White seems so "boating in the south of France," or "sipping rosé on an NYC rooftop while watching the sun set," which is practically my two moods during the summer, even if neither of them are actually realistic. Let's begin!

Top by Tobi. Pants and bandana by Madewell. Shoes by & Other Stories.

In Exhibit A, I styled something I haven't worn, well, ever. A tube top!!! Am I in 2002 rn? Tobi inspired me to take the leap. I've always loved exposing my shoulders with off-the-shoulder tops, so why not go all the way and also reveal 100% of my arms? This taupe shade caught my eye merely because it directly resembles chocolate ice cream, which is what I dream about 24/7 during the summer months. How fitting! I paired it with my favorite pants of the summer, aka my wide-leg white jeans from Madewell, to make it less 2000s, but also to add a scoop of vanilla to the mix. Completing the 'fit with a gingham bandana and these mules that have existed on my feet all summer, no matter how uncomfortable they get after hours of walking around NYC, added my personal style to this chocolate vanilla swirl. Yummy!

Skirt by Tobi. Top by Reformation. 

Exhibit B consists of the opposite of what you read about earlier. I'm rocking a midi again! This time it's in skirt form and in a rusty orange color that reminds me of pumpkins, but also summer for some strange reason. Maybe exchange pumpkins for peaches? That's better. My summer white came in the form of a Reformation wrap top, which is something that is glued to my torso just like the mules are to my feet. I can't decide if the hardest part about this outfit was either tying my top or buttoning my skirt. Either way, it was still far too easy, which is just what I need this summer. Something simple and familiar, as I'm currently living in the most complex and unfamiliar city ever. Cheers to fashion making life better!

Special thanks to Tobi for the skirt and top.

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'

Midis are Back!!!

Wait, did they ever really leave?

Well in my closet, they did.

Remember approximately a week ago, when I said that I was solely purchasing items that have crotches? This is already changing! As my style always is.

I've spent 6/7 days of the past week wearing items that lack the legs and crotch you would typically find in a normal pair of pants. Once again, I have contradicted myself in terms of style. I can't help that fashion is constantly evolving. The reason I've always been more fond of dresses and skirts over those leg-constricting things we call pants is due to how they lack that leg-constricting nature--skirts and dresses are so liberating! Dresses more than skirts, actually. Skirts both require a top half, if you're down to follow societal norms and not stroll around in public topless, and also are usually constricting to the waist. Not as freeing as we expected, unfortunately.

But dresses! Especially those of the free-flowing midi type that do the opposite of clothing that exist to take away our freedoms. Definitely an exaggeration, but the argument that jeans (of the super-skinny type) and mini skirts and body-con dresses that hardly go past the thighs are, to an extent, of an oppressive nature. Don't get me wrong, I love to wear a mini every now and then and don a pair of jeans that shows off my curves (or lack of, to be more accurate). Showing off skin and wearing skin-tight pieces is great, if that's your style, and you do it for you, not to follow patriarchal gender roles. But sometimes my body just needs to ~breathe~. Especially in this heat!

Cue the introduction of the midi, or rather the reintroduction of the midi. I used to love these things! However, they were usually of the skirt type, especially this one pleated metallic midi that now seems so unadventurous. Then I took a practically year long break from them; you won't find a single one on the blog for the past 12 months, which is quite spooky if you think about it. I only seemed to wear pants and shorts and dresses/skirts of the short type. But then about a month or so ago, when I suddenly became obsessed with Reformation and their shin-grazing hemlines that were on almost half of their dresses, I realized it was time to go back. What's excellent about these things is that it's leg-freeing AND I don't have to shave. Well, I usually don't even shave when I'm wearing a mini skirt, but that's beside the point.

A Case for the Wrap Dress

Dress by Artizia. Shirt, bandana, and shoes by Madewell. 

Ah, the beloved wrap dress. I feel like I'm in 2001 again, but a cooler and fashion-forward version of her. I used to imagine these entities as DVF wrap dresses from the early 2000s that Lorelai Gilmore would wear constantly, but now these dresses have a makeover--swap long sleeves for spaghetti straps (flutter sleeves are also an option), and switch that stretchy cotton for linen or a crepe fabric. Also add in slits. Maybe even pockets! I went for this one by Aritzia that shows some skin with the plunging neck line and side slits, but also covers 3/4 of my legs. A perfect balance. I placed my favorite white tee by Madewell under it and tied a gingham bandana around my wrist because although I told myself I would stop with the bandanas six months ago, this art has become second nature to me. My loafer slides finished the look, and *voila*. I just made wrap midis cool again.

A Case for the Waistless Midi

Dress by Madewell. Shoes by Adidas. Neck scarf is thrifted.

Waistless midi? More like paper sack. But paper sacks are fashionable now, no? This one from Madewell is even better than the aforementioned midi--no tie to hold your waist back. Eat all the pizza you like! I've usually only leaned towards waistless dresses when hemlines are above the knee, but this one goes far past them, making the shape (or lack of one) questionable. But the ruffles and super soft cotton/tencel combo pulled me in, and now I'm in love. I would lie and say the wrap dress is what made me love midis again, but this one definitely did the trick. It felt like I was wearing practically nothing, which is what summer should feel like! Just add sneakers and a neck scarf if you're going to work (where sneakers are allowed, of course), or add nothing if you're on the beach and shoes aren't a requirement. Either way, your legs and waist will thank you.

Have any midi skirt/dress recs? Leave them in the comments below!! 

twitter | instagram | facebook | tumblr | bloglovin'