Madrid Made Me Wear My Weirdest Outfit Yet

And I truly thought I couldn't get any weirder.

It's been two weeks since I've left Spain, and I'm going through two distinct emotional whirl winds. One that is, what I like to call, PED (or Post Europe Depression), which I have witnessed every single time I've returned to America after being anywhere in Europe for over four days, which is also seen here and here. PED is really going to hit hard when I live in Stockholm for four months this fall and have to unwillingly return to the states come December. The second journey is one that is focused on style, of course, because being in a foreign country for some time that carries a completely different fashion sense than your own can challenge everything you once imagined to be true. This obviously happened when I was in France for two whole weeks last year, obviously happened when I was still trying to find myself when I was a mere 16-year-old and I went to London, Paris, and Florence in the span of 10 days. These all make sense, as those regions all carry distinctive styles that are a obviously a product of that region.

But Spain? Really??

Spain seems to nail literally everything but personal style, and also knowing how to sleep during normal hours. This isn't saying that Spain is an unfashionable country, but it's really just an observation that it's not their priority. Yes, we have beautiful Spanish clothing and shoe brands like Paloma Wool and About Arianne and the best style icons like Maria Bernad, all originating from Barcelona. But I didn't even step foot into this city, and everywhere else, including Madrid, really could care less about style. To be quite honest, the most stylish people I saw were French tourists and exchange students from Scandinavia and, not to brag, myself, only because I actually put far too much effort into the clothes I put on my body. Was it to overcompensate for the lack of style inspiration? Maybe. What I do know is that I tried a lot of things that fell outside the norm for me whilst on this trip. One being the concept of napping, which is something I will never understand as I always feel like a truck just ran into me the minute I wake up from a mid-day sleep. But that didn't stop me on this trip! The other is how I approached style—I usually try to get a general grasp of a new city's style and mold it to fit my own personal style, but that wasn't the case in Madrid. In Granada, I did tend to fall into this sleepy summer aesthetic that screams Granada and Call Me by Your Name, but in Madrid, I, to put in the simplest of terms, did whatever the fuck I wanted with my style. I didn't feel that I fit into their regional style, so instead of whining about it, I just created my own rules. And this made me go over the edge in some ways, especially with one particular outfit in mind. See below.

Dress is vintage, from Antoinette in Brooklyn. Jeans are vintage Levi's, from a (wonderful) vintage shop in Granada. Turtleneck by Madewell. Shoes by Zara (similar here).

You probably recognize that infamous dress, as I wore it practically once a week near the end of last summer, sometimes alone, sometimes with jeans, sometimes with shorts. But all in the summer. Yes, spring is already here and we should be able to don summer styles freely with zero obstacles, but the weather has obviously proven itself to be a huge one! This isn't limited to the states, it was also a hinderance in Spain. It typically gets no warmer than 50 in March in Madrid, so I was forced to somehow transform this obviously-summer dress into a winter one. When I was packing for this trip, my friend told me she was bringing a single dress, just in case. Without even thinking, I stuffed this one in my suitcase because it's actually way more versatile than it looks, and I really didn't know what to expect of a) the weather or, even more significantly, b) the style of Spain. Upon my decision to go completely off the rails with my style decisions, I pulled this baby out of my tiny suitcase and spent some time figuring out how I could create my weirdest outfit yet with what I hardly had. I would typically pair it with one of my pairs of blue vintage Levi's, but the single pair I brought was far from wearable, as sweat and wear of the past few days practically destroyed them until their next wash. So I scanned my options of pants and immediately decided to wear the pair I had just bought, which was a beige (or khaki??) pair of Levi's 501s that I couldn't say no to, because whenever I find a pair of vintage Levi's that fit me, I feel obligated to purchase them. That could've been the outfit, but I also felt obligated to wear a turtleneck under everything, as it was still too cold to go out sans layers. And to make matters even worse, I decided to finish the 'fit with the most extra pair of shoes I own, aka these red boots that make for excellent looks and loads of foot cramps if you happen to wear them all day walking around the city of Madrid.

And that, my friends, is how I managed to defy Madrid's style and also somehow end up wearing all of my strangest sartorial decisions in one outfit. They key here is, however, that although I look like a walking catastrophe, I felt like the complete opposite. Is it because it truly defines my chaotic nature? Maybe. Just maybe.

Photo taken by Maddie.

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Granada is the City of my European Summer Dreams

Even when it's only March.

To all my travel-lovers: do you ever wonder exactly why you love traveling? Is it the cultural immersion? The history? Maybe just the food and drink aspect?

Although tapas and vino sound like the best reason to visit Spain, for me, there's a huge factor that keeps me coming back to new places like this one. Just like fashion, traveling to new cultures has transformative effects. So if you were to ask me why I would drop my entire life and responsibilities and travel, I would answer with this: living in a foreign country for just a few days has the ability to make the impossible possible. It's got powers that make dreams come true! Sounds cheesy, yes, but let me explain:

If I'm feeling a lil' blue, I always turn to fashion to up my mood and transform into something better that only style can fix. Its healing powers are why I constantly fix this one part of my life if all else is falling apart. Or simply, if I wish to embody a certain feeling that can only be performed through fashion, I do the same. Lately, this has been me with an easy breezy summer, one that is obviously nowhere to be found based on cold temps and far too many responsibilities but is surprisingly easy to produce with the clothes I put on my body. This longing for summer for 16 months straight is where travel comes in, especially Granada. Being in this town for only three days, even when it's been raining and chilly for 80% of the time, makes me feel just like I'm in summer, but particularly my '80s summer dream that I've been dreaming of nonstop ever since I watched Call Me by Your Name for the first time (then again and again for four more times, plus the book twice). Was I in Italy? Nope. Was it summer? Definitely not, as it poured rain for two out of the three days I was there, and it never reached over 55 degrees. But did I feel like I was living in that European summer dream that I immediately travel to when I hear the first notes of Hallelujah Junction, aka the opening song of the aforementioned film, which I also watched on the plane ride way there? Absolutely.

The minute I was placed in Granada I saw several orange trees on every street corner, and I immediately thought of those infamous peach trees that instantly allude to a sweet summer. Walking through the tight alleyways that acted as roads and looking at bright but faded buildings and noticing sleepy streets one minute and lively ones the next transferred me to a place of zero responsibilities, of summer siestas (which happen year-round in Spain, btw), and of a summer love that can transcend all other romances. Did I fall in love in Granada? Absolutely not, I was there for three days. But could I fall in love in the way that summer romances go if I lived there? Maybe, maybe not, but I know I did fall in love with the town. Shouldn't that be enough?

Throughout my summer fantasy, I realized it would be even more effective if I dressed the part. Sounds easy, no? Well actually, no—as I mentioned earlier, it was raining and nowhere near summer temps. If only I could wear denim-cutoffs and breezy button-ups with espadrille slides, or maybe even ditch the shoes altogether. But the strange March weather (the friend I was visiting said it never rains) hindered on my summer dreams, making me have several fashion-related mental breakdowns. But alas, they were cured when I decided to work in summer (and CMBYN)-esque vibes into my looks that were typically covered with a rain jacket and consisted of pants instead of shorts. For exhibit A we have...

Button-down by Urban Outfitters (similar here). Strapless top (under button-down) by Tobi. Levi's are vintage, from The Break. Shoes by Veja, in collaboration with Madewell. Leather jacket and raincoat not shown, but definitely needed to keep me warm and dry when the sun wasn't out for ten minutes when this photo was taken.

I attempted to style my favorite button-down at the moment, aka one coming from the men's section and that has nude sketches, because why not, in a way I had never done before—completely unbuttoned, tied at the waist, and with a taupe tube top that I typically wear alone or under a blazer, not under button-downs. Even sans pants, I already felt like I fit into a Spanish summer, and if it were feasible, I would slip on my Levi's cutoffs and call it a day. The no shoes were intentional. But to fit with the weather, I slipped on full-length Levi's, aka the next best thing to the desired shorts, and my newest (and now deemed favorite) sneakers from Veja, which is a 100% sustainable sneaker company based in Paris. Felt like a perfect compromise with the weather, as I would still wear full-length Levi's in the summer, and these Vejas perfectly match those unmistakeable shoes Armie Hammer constantly wears in the film. Me standing under this orange tree is resembling of Elio picking a few peaches right before the scene (if you've watched the movie, you should know what I'm talking about).

Shirt bought from an Angel Olsen show last December that are (unfortunately) unavailable. Pants are vintage, also from The Break. Jacket by Madewell. Shoes by Veja. Sunglasses by Lisa Says Gah.

On this day, the sun was actually out all day long. I took this weather to my advantage and pulled on breezy trousers in the most perfect shade of dusty green with a tee displaying a photo of Angel Olsen. For a look perfect for Elio (or Yorkie from San Junipero), I used my newest denim jacket, a staple I will never stop buying more of, as my (only!) layer, and that was it. No neck scarf, no extravagant jewelry, nothing. And that's what summer should be about—straightforward and simple, accessories not needed. I felt like I had just gotten off of a bike in Crema, ready to grab a drink or bite of food, which I actually did right after these photos were taken, sitting outside on the cobble-stone streets facing the beautiful city of Granada. Surreal is an understatement.

Will I ever stop talking about Call Me by Your Name on this blog? The answer is unknown. But I do know that even when summer is full-blown come this May, I'll never be able to have this feeling unless I'm in the European summer city of my dreams. Until next time, Granada.

First photo taken by me, other photos taken by Averie and Maddie.

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These Scandinavian Instagram Style Icons Are Really Onto Something

Forget about Paris and Milan.

Photo is of Nora Fazel, taken from her personal blog

Here's a poll I'd like to impose on you all:

Do you think style is meant to be completely personal, void of social and cultural influence? Or is it truly a product of the culture you're from?

As I don't have time to conduct actual research, we'll just go off of what I think: the latter, obviously. I constantly say how personal style is essential to our beings, but after some thought, isn't our style always a result of the culture we're raised in? This explains why the styles of certain regions are so vastly different: classic chic in Paris, bold and flashy in Seoul, dark and structured in Berlin. This can't be an isolated event; regional styles are, in fact, a product of that region. Common sense, no?

Then I think of where I'm from, a suburb north of Atlanta that holds zero personal style except for white teenagers wearing Vineyard Vines like it's defining of Southern culture even though it originates from Massachusetts. Obviously, I don't fit this culture—I wore things that would be seen in NYC or Paris when I lived in the South for 18 years. So is style a product of our culture? The answer is blurry, especially when you're not a fan of your original culture and would gladly like to disassociate from it, which I have attempted by both physically leaving the area for good and dressing unlike my fellow Georgians. This distaste in my hometown's style forced me to find another home to pull style inspiration from, resulting in, as I said earlier, NYC and Parisian styles. Were these cultures ones I simply wished to belong to, making the argument that style is a cultural product even truer? Possibly. All that can be said for now is that style and culture are not isolated, and some cultures really know what they're doing.

My younger self would immediately flock to Paris or London to find style inspiration, as I assumed these were deemed the most fashionable cities in the world. But these cities are like a grain of sand on a stretch of beach; so much more is out there. Even just in Europe. Maybe that entire region of Scandinavia that people always seem to forget about is enticing. Maybe more than enticing, maybe enticing enough for me to actually go. Which I am planning on doing! Next fall. Stockholm, Sweden. I never imagined myself deciding to study somewhere like that, just as I never imagined the region to hold a really cool style that seems to be a product of how the region is doing as a whole. Apparently Norway is the happiest country in the world, which is evident in many ways, including how everyone looks damn good. My interest in this area sprouted with my addiction to the Norwegian show SKAM, which I just recently finished rewatching, one year later. People tell me I'd fit right into any city of these three countries because I look just like every white blonde who resides in them, but I think it transcends looks—something far deeper about Scandinavia was calling my name. Apart from study abroad, this led me into an Instagram hole of Scandinavian style icons. I'm pretty sure I followed about 20 new accounts, realized that Copenhagen, Oslo, and Stockholm Fashion Week do exist, and that Pernille Teisbaek is Danish. Scandinavians are immensely proud of their culture, and not in that gross American way; they actually have something to be proud of. And it definitely shows in their style.

Maren Schia from Oslo, Norway; photo from her Instagram

Exhibit A is Norwegian Maren Schia, a name that appears often on Who What Wear and also has the art of dressing down. She should be titled an expert, a world champ. Her 'fits are out of this world, ranging from belted Canadian tuxedoes to corduroy pantsuits to ones exploding in color and interesting layers, like the one above. She brings everything we like to see from the main four fashion weeks and heightens it to her personal taste, making everything she posts on her IG well-crafted and oh-so-intentional. She puts the personal in personal style, yet still has a style that's so similar to every fashion queen from Oslo. Remember that poll I asked you guys to answer in the beginning? She's the one that proves both answers to be true.

Nora Fazel from Stockholm, Sweden; photo from her Instagram

Swedish Nora Fazel's caption for the above photo is Always looking like a 12 y old boy who stole a cigarette from his mom and I don't really mind, do you?, and this statement describes Fazel's aesthetic entirely: one who simply does not mind how other people think of her. Yet she definitely cares to an extent, at least for herself, when she brings an effortlessly cool style to her Instagram, making Stockholm look like a place only fit for girls who know how to take cool outfit selfies while carelessly holding an almost-burnt out cigarette, while also posting things like memes and artful nudes. Also, she doesn't groom her body hair like every other American seems to because she transcends typical heteropatriarchal standards. 

Fanny Ekstrand from Stockholm, Sweden; photo from her Instagram

Swedish Fanny Ekstrand resides from the same place as Nora but brings a completely different look to the table. While still following that same carefree attitude, she goes for a more is more approach, but in a sense that doesn't copy aesthetics like Gucci and instead comes from a very personal place. She tends to stray away from style norms, so instead she wears red tights with cowboy boots and calls it fashion. Most importantly, she's weird as hell and brings this essence to her sartorial choices, making her style more interesting than any Manhattan blogger. 

Rebecca Vera Stahnke from Copenhagen, Denmark; photo from her Instagram

Danish Rebecca Vera Stahnke seems to follow the lyrics of "girls just wanna have fun" very closely with her style, making sure to put a dash of her own personal touch and a load of fun to every outfit she puts on. She's a big fan of making her looks obviously match a certain color scheme, and she usually makes it clear that style isn't a job for her; it's more like a hobby that comes way too easily to her. Her candid photos make her look like she's having a blast 24/7, and maybe she really is; do Danes really have more fun? 

Because we're already so obsessed with hygge, we should continue with this Scandinavian obsession and follow what they're doing with style. After we nail their styles down, maybe we can start with other parts of their culture. I'm very interested in making fika a tradition in the states.

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Layer It Up, Baby

Feat. double red and double ruffles, just in time for the day after V-Day

It should come to no surprise that when it comes to layering, I am all. Over. It. This used to be the sole reason why I loved winter so much a few years ago—it's the only season of the year where layering two unrelated items on top of each other is acceptable, simply because it's too cold to wear one of them alone. Two is better than one, no? It gets even more fun when you introduce three or four items in one layering instance because even though you thought it to be impossible for a human to wear a turtleneck with a button-up finished with a denim jacket and a leather jacket to top it off, it actually is doable. Definitely a hassle to take off at the end of the day, but so worth it for those OOTD pics and cold-weather practicality.

My love of layers has stuck with me although my love of winter has not, which makes things a bit tricky—layering in the summer gets funky unless you're all about baby tees under slip dresses. This complicates my constant longing for summer when it's nearly impossible to layer in the aforementioned season. Fortunately, I've recently found a distinct personal style surrounding summer, including statement dresses, vintage jeans that hardly touch my skin, and mules. I seemed to forget the art of layering last summer, and when it got cold, I didn't take refuge in wearing far too many articles of clothing at once and instead went for chunky sweaters and heavy coats, a far easier alternative to the art of layering. My style rut didn't want to delve into this art—far too much time and effort.

But maybe the way to get out of a rut is to do what always saved you in the past. That seems feasible. Since I didn't actually intend on my layering frenzy to stop when it did, it shouldn't be too hard to get back into, right? Just go back to the basics, and it will evolve into what it used to be in no time. Fortunately, I was correct—a really cold day and a ruffled turtleneck would solve the problem.

Turtleneck by Madewell. Vintage blouse and vintage Levi's from The Break (aka my favorite vintage store in Greenpoint, Brooklyn). Shoes by Zara.

To dive back into layers, I immediately pulled out all of the turtlenecks I owned, which is a lot, if you already weren't aware of my obsession with the piece. I decided to opt for a neutral one, unlike the colorful nature of my tissue turtlenecks, so I could focus on the thing going over the turtleneck. This white one from Madewell has a lettuce-hem detail on the neck, making it the perfect layering tool to add a bit of detail to peek out from under that thing going over it. Now, what should that thing be? A short-sleeved button-up from Madewell that I own far too many of? Not really my style atm. Maybe a thick crew-neck sweater that will work extra hard to keep me warm? Not interesting enough. Maybe a bold vintage blouse that also has some ruffles to work with a potential frill theme the turtleneck began? Perfect. This top that definitely came straight from the '80s was my go-to in the summer and fall when wanting to wear vintage Levi's, but it got lost in my closet once temps dropped because the color seems to closely resemble parts of a summer sunset, something that we won't see again until at least June. I decided to bring it back into winter, because a) why the hell not and b) we love a pop of color to brighten our dull winter days! Speaking of Levi's, I brought those in to add a third piece, but new ones of a lighter wash and a longer inseam (aka me not cutting my jeans too short, as always) to change things up.

Not one but two items with ruffles made me feel fancier than usual, so I continued this trend by donning my pair of red ankle boots to complete the look. Something about this style felt v put-together. Much needed when my style (and potentially life?) is falling apart. Back in high school, I went to layering when I was stressed or felt out of control (no, really) to feel like something was going the way I wanted it to. Layering is hard! It requires a certain kind of confidence you can't get from only two items of clothing. So I dare you to go into your next layering endeavor with the same assertion as Veronica below:

But change "lick" to "layer," obviously.

Photos shot by Maddie.

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